Cold Snap Out of It

The book "The Long Walk" was one that had a profound affect on my life. My mother read it to us when I was about 4 or 5, when our family of four lived in a 10 x 12 cabin an 8 mile walk from town.

Every night after dinner - during the long winter nights - she sat by the barrel stove, lantern glowing beside her, and read us stories of survival. Outside the temps hung around -20 and the snow was higher than our home. The stories made that little space seem like a castle as I snuggled up to my mum's knee.

In "The Long Walk" I found a thousand steps I didn't know I had, and when my mom and I struggled home from town sometimes, our bodies sinking up to our waists as we fought to pull our bodies through the snow, exhaustion and cold sucking away at our bodies, fear tugging at our hearts - she would lean down and remind me how luckily we were to have such an easy journey, not like those poor folks in "The Long Walk" and I would know we could make it.

Now, I look back and I wonder if she read those stories for us or for herself. I can't imagine the fear she must have felt when she saw us giving up. When my brother and my steps slowed and she knew she couldn't carry us both home.

As a new person in a new land it can be easy to convince oneself that you are persecuted or that your life is hard.  Everyday you must learn and adapt and it can feel like a wall you can't climb.  However, for those of us living in Korea teaching English - even if our apartments are the worst, our bosses most difficult, or our lives isolated - these are not struggles but a privilege.  This is no long walk.

Which is why, when my day is harder than I like, or my attitude turns sour, I whisper to myself, "How lucky am I that my journey is so easy?" And I take that next step forward toward making this life my home.

Want To Read The Long Walk: http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/1599219751/ref=aw_d_detail?pd=1

Once Upon A Time In Mexico

The place I wanna go, old Mexico.

Always A Little Wendy

This Wendy has never believed
the lost boys should have had to leave Neverland.

Maybe it's a flaw in my character,
But I think we should all be kids forever.

We should clap at butterflies.
Run barefoot in the summer.
Turn cartwheels in grass.
Ride bikes with our elbows out and head down.
Throw rocks at the water to count the ripples.
Slide down snowy hills.
Laugh when we fall down.

I believe in wonder.
I believe in delight.

So if you want you children to grow up serious.
If you want them to live in the "real world".
It's best if you keep them away from me.
I'll teach them all the wrong things.

But if you want someone who teaches them
that its always going to be ok,
that mistakes are worth it,
hard work is the greatest fun,
and laughter is the way through -
then send them my way.

We will fight with our wooden swords
until every last dream has been conquered,
then we will fall into exhausted sleep
and dream up more.

A New Year: A Fresh New Drama

For the last two years I've shared my Drama.

The ups, the downs and the in-betweens.

But the truth is, 

I've never really been into one woman shows.

So, this year 

I'm happy to start bringing you 

more stories from women

who took a chance,

ran away

and started over.

These aren't stories of finding your bliss.

They are stories about the guts as much as the glory.

Because these women are tough enough 

to want more from life then stretchy pants

and talking endlessly about their feelings.

They want adventure.

They want stories of their own.

They want the good with the bad.

They are chasing their tales,

and sharing what they've learned along the way.

Together we will share:

 our experiences

our solutions

our questions

our confusion

our clarity

our choices

our fears

and whatever comes along.

Which brings us to  Jessie's Drama.

We met years ago when she was my barista in Seattle.

She always had a smile and a brightness to her 

that just didn't fit in.

While the other hipsters were 

going no where slowly,

she talked of dreams and goals.

We join this Drama already in progress 

 in Kuala Lumpur: 

Living large in KL

"The idea of traveling and living aboard has always called to me; especially to do those things in Southeast Asia. Home never felt like home, and the more I traveled and returned, the more I wanted to travel and never return.

At times I’ve found this lifestyle lonely and have felt alienated. I’ve also been blessed with powerful cosmic connections of love. A few years ago, back in Seattle, I felt the most alienated. I had just sold the entirety of my belongings, got rid of my downtown apartment, was working two jobs and sleeping on my brother’s floor. My friends couldn’t’ understand why I’d do this. How could a one way ticket to Bangkok and a dream be my deepest desire and goal? No one understood why I was leaving and entering the unknown.

Now, that I’m living my life the way I intended to live, I still face this problem. The idea of my lifestyle feels a bit strange. I live in Malaysia but I often travel between northern Thailand and Singapore. That massive stretch of land has been my home for years now. Even though I’m situated in the heart of Southeast Asia, I still want to pack up my bags and leave. Travelers curse.

When I met my future husband, I was traveling. I was in KL to make arrangements to trek through Indonesia. Love bit me hard on the ass and I returned to KL after a couple months. I had to make something very clear from the start. First and foremost, I’m a traveler. Second, I’m too stubborn and independent for my own good.

Now, I love traveling with Ali. He’s the greatest travel partner but this doesn’t mean I’ll ever lose the feeling of being alone and getting lost in the world. I warned him to marry a settled girl, but he’s also stubborn and insisted on me. I can’t complain though. He’s one of the few people who understands and is willing to stand by my side, even if that means I’m not there. Since I left Seattle, I hardly speak with anyone. But those are the ones who don’t understand this life.

But really, what the heck is this lifestyle? I’m traveling but living at the same time. I’m not an expat, either. What sort of criteria do I fall into? Or is this just an ongoing battle of an internal feeling.

I saw a similar question on Facebook from Lanae. I know Lanae from Seattle. She owned an art gallery next door to the coffee shop I managed. I never knew she felt the same way as I did until we were both out of the country and living in Asia.

We started talking and asking questions." - Jessie

Read more from Jessie on her blog at:  http://travelthis.tumblr.com/

The Enemy Will Be My Friend

There was no midnight.

No sunset and no sunrise.

There was no beginning or end.

2012 simply became 2013

somewhere over the sea
smack dab between
between what was and is me.

Somehow it seemed fitting

that no line was drawn between my past and present.

I spent my Dragon year

connecting the dots
and following them like
stepping stones.

I moved as carefully as I could,

always forward but not always smoothly.

That's how I found my solid ground.

Now we walk in the year of the snake.

The animal of which I am most afraid.

It's the year of mending two lives,

bringing together what was with what is.

The plan remains simple,

this year I will let the snake coil around me.

I'll hold still and let it mend the past to the present

so that there is no beginning or end.