An August Beginning

August (adjective): "inspiring reverence or admiration; of supreme dignity or grandeur; majestic"

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About three weeks ago, I publicly revealed my big plans for the upcoming year. It hasn't been surprising that some of the reactions were also pretty large. It's a lot for most people to comprehend - leaving a job I love, selling most everything I own, and headed out to... well, I am not quite certain just yet. 

People are often quick to say they "don't care what other people think." While this can sometimes be a useful trait, it is also easier said than done. A couple of years ago, I came to embrace the reality that I actually do care what other people think of me, and the usefulness of this sentiment. Without considering the respect, feelings, or wishes of others, I believe we would live in a pretty cold and disconnected world. Let's face it - caring what others think is vital to empathy, a trait I value immensely for what I hope are obvious reasons. Because of this, I understandably had some apprehension about the reactions others might have to my plans.

In response to my news, I have had to contend with many questions, comments, and reactions, most of which were incredibly and surprisingly positive. However, I was also asked if I was sick on a few occasions. I would like to answer that once and for all by sharing that I am, in fact, dying - but only in the same boring manner that most of us are - a teeny, tiny bit each day. I don't say this to be morbid or to make light of a serious matter, but to help people understand that there is something very motivating about understanding and embracing the mortality that is true for all of us. We shouldn't have to be on an accelerated timeline to do what our heart calls us to do.

Along that same subject, I have had the opportunity to say and have things said to me that would have never happened had I not made this decision. I value those exchanges more than anyone could know. It has been humbling, heartwarming, and amazing to be able to connect with so many people in such a meaningful and authentic way. I almost feel like I have been given the gift of going to my own funeral (but I do promise that if I have anything to do with it, I won't be having a funeral for another 50 or so years).

I don't know that my plans deserve to be described as "august" as defined above, but I have certainly experienced a great deal of love and support. I have been called "brave" more times than I could count. My response to that is usually "or stupid" because I refuse to take myself or life too seriously, and because it's uncomfortable to have the weight of a word like that placed upon your life. I hope I can live up to the hopes everyone has for me, and those that I have for myself. I will certainly try my best, armed with the lovely sentiments of such a great community. 

Launch Pad

"Home is where one starts from." ~T. S. Eliot

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For the past fifteen years, I have called 501 Beharrell Avenue "home." I loved this cozy brick bungalow from the moment I saw it, and it's been fun making a few marks of my own on its 86 or so years of history. Today, I made another big leap of faith in my adventure, and it hit the market for sale. 

I'll certainly miss my tree-lined historic street, all the sunlight streaming through the windows, the warmth of the woodwork, my little vegetable garden, the front porch, walking the neighborhood, and all the other bits that have made it my home. Its sale will, however, provide me with the great gift of being able to undertake my travels over the next year, and for that, I will say a fond farewell to my humble, cheery abode. I'm quite certain it will make its next owner very happy.

I will also be selling most of my belongings after the house is under contract, so if you spy something in these photos that tickles your fancy, feel free to contact me.

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"One never reaches home, but wherever friendly paths intersect the whole world looks like home for a time." ~Hermann Hesse

"It may be that the satisfaction I need depends on my going away, so that when I've gone and come back, I'll find it at home." ~Rumi

"Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home." ~Matsuo Basho

My Story

On August 4, 2012, I was moved to purchase the book Minimalism: Live a Meaningful Life by Joshua Fields Milburn and Ryan Nicodemus. 

Growing up, I went through a long period of rejecting consumerism. Most of my teenage years were spent wearing thrift store men’s clothes and little to no makeup. The song “Consumer” by the band Shelter and the punk band Avail’s mantra of “Poor Ugly Happy” spoke to my soul. I did not need things.

After college, like most of us, I became focused on being able to support myself. I was intoxicated by the idea of owning my own house, thinking about the artistic things I would do to make it my own. Although I never got too carried away with fancy cars, a giant house, or $400 handbags, in many ways, I became a part of mainstream consumer society. 

Fast forward nearly 20 years. I have a wonderful life. I live in a modest house with all the “necessary” comforts. For the past six years, I have had a job I adore at a not-for-profit organization, where I get the amazing gift of making a difference in the lives of people in my community. In fact, I was recently named Young Professional of the Year in a major award.

However, I never did most of those artistic things with my property. The reasons are probably many, but mostly rooted in the fact that after working 40+ hours a week, I had little to no time, creativity, or energy remaining. I got wrapped up in friends, errands, television, and just trying to keep up. 

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Teressa at the Coliseum in Rome in 1998

After reading Minimalism: Live a Meaningful Life, I began to tune back in to my roots and realize that I really had life more figured out at age 16 than I might have realized. I began the slow process of ridding myself of non-essential “things” and have continued toward that goal. 

The “Tiny House Movement” caught my eye, and for a while, I thought this concept fit my desire to focus on the essential. But then I realized that the notion of portability was what really spoke to me. Aside from giving back to my community and relationships with the people in my life, traveling has been what has fed my soul the most. 

After recently celebrating my 40th birthday, I’m excited to plan something entirely new with my life, to reject the prescribed role we all play. I want to wake up and see mountains, or desert, or a canyon; to fill my lungs with fresh, quiet air; to truly see how little we need to content our souls; and to make new connections and find ways to continue to give back to the world around me and the people with whom I share it.