"Where do you live?"

 

...is the question we get asked most often, along with its cousin, "Where are you from?"

"We were living in Santa Cruz before we became nomads," we sometimes say.

Or:
"Half the year in Mexico, half traveling."

In a way, wherever we are at the moment is where we live.

When we set out two years ago to live this version of life, we weren't totally sure what it would look like. That's still the case. We make some plans, the days unfold, and eventually the dark road ahead gets illuminated with our headlights.

Since we left our little casita in Mexico in April, we've spent the night in about twenty different beds, living wherever we are.

When I look at what we've been focusing on, I can see what our priorities are.

Family and friends



Meeting Miles for the first time, in L.A.

The boys help Uncle Dave blow out his birthday candles.

Visiting my 91-year-old piano playing Aunt Ruby.

Lunch with my cousins in the Bay Area, cooked by my chef cousin Clay.

Hiking in Tahoe with Candis, Rob, and Holly.

Sister Sue and bro-in-law Dan.

My niece Hailey's 8th grade graduation.
 

A few days with Lee in Sebastopol.




Kari, shocked by my book.

We met up with a lot of Dave's buddies, like Sango, at High Sierra Music Festival.




Music festival clan!

Activities



Watching Dave's college buddy's son playing first base, in Nor Cal.

Hiking in San Francisco's McLaren Park.



Tahoe, on a friend's boat.
 




Rafting on the American River with Candis and Laura as our guides.

Animals

Run, Lola, Run! Lee's pup.

A little love from Marge, our charge in Santa Cruz during a housesit.

Maya. We took care of her during a Berkeley housesit.



My cousin Jennifer's cat, Posey, named after the SF Giants' gem of a catcher.

Dave captured these pelicans in Santa Cruz.

 Music

 

Bonnie Raitt in Santa Cruz

 

Ike & Martin, Tahoe

 

 

Roseville Moose Lodge...these young women did a killer "Me & Bobby McGee"!

 

 

 

Hot Buttered Rum in Santa Cruz

 

The Nibblers at High Sierra Music Festival, Quincy, California.

 

Robert Randolph

String Cheese Incident...my highlight.

 

The Waifs

California Honeydrops
 

And best of all: making our own music around the fire pit in So Cal.

 

How about not "Where do you live" but "What do you love?"

 

Love, sex, spirit, and travel...

We left jobs and home to travel the world...and then I wrote about it.

Today is the book's birthday.


You can order it here or at any bookstore.

The title comes from a quote by OSHO:

Don't call it uncertainty--call it wonder.

Don't call it insecurity--call it freedom.

Books may be written alone--but they aren't edited alone, published alone, or lived alone. I'm grateful to every person whose life has touched mine.

It's exciting and unnerving when something so personal and raw--something you've lived with intimately for so long--makes its way out into the world.

So I won't call it uncertainty, I'll call it wonder. I wonder what will come next?
 

Two Years In

Two years ago this month, Dave and I stepped off the cliff.

 

Santa Cruz, where we've done several house sits.

We left our house, our possessions, and our jobs to travel and live house-free. Our guiding theory was this: The void is fertile. This theory has served us well.

Baja California Sur, Mexico.

In these two years, we've:

* traveled to five countries and numerous U.S. states
* spent beautiful time with friends old and new
* had amazing animal encounters
* become housesitters
* bought a casita in Mexico

Sri Lanka

Oh, and I had brain surgery. And wrote a book that's coming out next month. The book is about all of this stuff. And about how we are transformation.

What has made this lifestyle possible?

1. Being willing to do it. We didn't have everything figured out in advance--including the financial piece. We just knew that in our lives so far, things always worked out. We had faith that they would continue to do so--and that living our dream was possible. The unknown can feel like fear, or like excitement. We choose the latter.

Great Barrier Reef

2. Friends. What a bonus to be able to spend quality time with so many of our friends--and they are so sweet, welcoming us into their lives and guest rooms. Our friend Mark in San Jose has been instrumental. He's like a home base. He lets us keep some of our stuff there, things we change over when needed (like our skis and bikes and winter clothes). When we come through, we often spend nights in his house. In his generous spirit, he has taken us to the airport several times and lets us keep our car in his garage.

Pho in San Jose with Mark

We also have a kind of home base in So Cal at the home of Andy and Nancy, my friend since high school. They, too, have let us keep stuff at their pad and have been very generous with car storage and airport transportation.

Gort, Nancy, and me in L.A.

 3. Housesitting. Simply put, free places to stay. Plus it's fun!

In Tahoe with Lola, our friend Lee's dog. We rented a house there through Airbnb.

 4. Airbnb. Cheap places to stay.

Dave took this in Cape Hillsborough.
We stayed at some Airbnb's in Australia--and also at the home of our friend.

5. The internet. When I left my job as a university teacher, I reinvented myself as a writer and writing coach--which due to the magic of the internet, I can do anywhere. Ditto for Dave, Mr. Business Development, who's involved in a few projects. And of course all travel planning is so much easier with the web.

We stayed with our friends Widi and Karen in India.

6. Working the banking. We have both a credit card and an ATM card that charge us no fees for international transactions. And we charge almost we buy on a card that gives us travel points.

Lois and me in Lake Winnipesaukee, New Hampshire.
We also stayed with her and her family in Boston and Cape Cod. 

7. Cheap real estate. Rather than plunging all of our resources into a house in California, which we'd considered, we were able to buy a house in Mexico for what many people pay for a car. We didn't have this place (or even have the concept of it) when we set out two years ago, but it's one big example of how the fertile void paid off.

Sunset from our rooftop near Todos Santos, Baja California Sur, Mexico.

When we launched on our traveling life two years ago, we didn't know all of this lay ahead of us. But of course that's how life is, no matter how you live it.
 

Jazz Fest!

I just experienced my first New Orleans Jazz Fest.

 

Dave has been many times and regaled me with stories. And so have many of his friends. Before that, it had been off my radar. Vaguely, I associated it with Dixieland Jazz. But, oh, it's so much more.

Mardi Gras Indians

Samba parade!

 

Jazz Fest is open a total of seven days, spread over two weekends, at the Fairgrounds. There are also a ton of other activities throughout the city going on during those two weeks, including music at various venues all night long.

 

You never know what you'll see walking around the neighborhoods.

We went the second weekend--which turned out to be fortunate because the weather was a perfect 70's to low 80's, with a breeze. It's more often hot and humid. Or sometimes there are torrential downpours, which had been the case the previous weekend. I noticed, though, that people rarely complain. They are there to have fun and immerse themselves in the powerful, universal language that is music and community.

 

Our first day, Friday, we took the trolley from our Garden District B&B. (We also took cabs and walked a lot.)



Hubbard B&B in the Garden District.

Where we had breakfast every morning.

Walking through the gates of the fairground, I was overwhelmed with gratitude to be there. As though pulled by an invisible hand, we walked right into the Gospel Tent. The music reached into me, and my eyes filled with tears.

That day we saw thirteen artists--from blues and Cajun to Honky Tonk to Brazilian jazz.



One of my favorites: Anders Osborne

Doreen's Jazz New Orleans knocked our socks off.

And over the course of the weekend, we saw much more, including (in a sea of fans) the classic rock of Steve Winwood--and Dave's all-time favorites, the Radiators.

Gal Holiday and the Honky Tonk Review

Both Friday and Saturday nights we went to shows, too--and had a lot of fun hanging out with friends old and new.



The guys at a night show, Fishhead Stew.

Julie, Scott and Dave happy with their pork Po'Boys.

My favorite food at the fairgrounds was a muffuletta. Staying in the Garden District, we were able to walk easily to Magazine Street restaurants. We especially enjoyed Joey K's, which featured down-home NOLA cooking.

 

Red beans and rice for me, veal with brown gravy for Dave.

There's so much going on, you can't see it or do it all. For instance, we didn't see Elton John and Lenny Kravitz that weekend.

 

But that's life, right? A big buffet of choices. I like to fully appreciate what's in front of me. The only way I'm really missing out is if I don't.

 

Why Did I Quit Coffee (and Booze)?

With my friend Ava.

Because it's an adventure to live in new ways.

Because I'm following my instincts.

Because I found myself drinking that first cup of coffee even on days when it didn't taste very good.

Because I found myself drinking that next glass of wine even when I knew I'd pay the next day.

Because I like the idea of waking up when I open my eyes (not after my first cup of coffee).

Because I like the idea of relaxing and falling asleep due to the influence of a swim in the sea, a warm bath, or mint tea (not booze).

Because I like the idea of partying, socializing, and having a blast without suffering the next day.

Because I had so much fun--and an internal rich life--as a kid, before I'd ever had a sip of booze or coffee. Maybe it would be like being a kid again?

Here's what's happening:

I'm saving a lot of money.

I suffered a week-long headache upon quitting coffee.

Caffeine actually works now. Twice since I quit coffee, I was at music events where I wanted to stay up and dance late. So I drank a coke, and it gave me a boost that caffeine hasn't in a long time.

I feel calmer and more patient. Less reactive.

My teeth are whiter.

I'm sleeping better.

Lots of people are supportive of me. Some tease me. (I can take it!) Others become aggressive or angry--or defensive of their own habits--even though I've never claimed that what I'm doing is for everyone.

Sometimes I get a little nostalgic about booze, about enjoying a local IPA from a tap or a glass of chardonnay. That's when I tell myself if I really want one, have it.

I guess I haven't really wanted to because I haven't done it.

With booze, I know after the initial lift, I get sleepy. I want to be wide awake to experience it all.

I'm noticing the space between the desire and the acting upon the desire. It's a rich space. When I allow myself to sit there, it's like inhabiting the space between waves, between breaths.

I'm noticing that one of my habits is to fill that space with "learning." I've been reading a lot of books and blogs, perusing websites like Hello Sunday Morning. And while I'm indeed learning a lot, I'm sensing it's time to back off from my gung-ho attitude and just float in the fertile void.

In other words, I don't want to fill up the "drinking" space with "not-drinking." I want to open like an anemone and see what else floats by.