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I’ve Moved!

For those of you following along, I’m excited to share that I’m on a new platform. Go to www.thoughtfuldeparture.com to continue on this adventure with me!

My Top 3 Rules for Living in My Car

1. Safety first.

As with any activity, safety always comes first. I made it a priority to find a place to sleep, hang out and park where I felt the most safe. Sometimes it’s just a gut feeling that made me worry about a place I parked, but I also had a checklist of sorts to ensure that I was in a safe place.

First, try to find a place that is relatively dark and quiet. You don’t want to be in a very public space where people will be walking by all night (near universities or popular nightlife destinations). You also won’t want to be somewhere completely isolated from society, because if you have an emergency, you’ll want to be able to find help quickly.

Second, make sure your windows are covered. When I began my car-dwelling adventure, I didn’t think to keep my windows covered, and quickly realized that it was too easy to peer into my car if I didn’t have “blinds”. So I installed blackout curtains on my windows. This helped block out the light from outside and blocked others from being able to peer into my car while I was sleeping.

Third, think about the worst scenario. It’s not something we ever want to worry about, but you’re always going to be in public spaces and you are very vulnerable now. So it’s important to think about the worst case scenario. If someone were to break in to try to take your belongings or cause harm to you, are you prepared? I made sure to keep a knife within arm’s reach when I was sleeping. If in the middle of the night, someone were to break into my car, I would be prepared to defend myself if necessary. Luckily, I never had to use it (besides cutting open the occasional avocado), but I made sure to check that it was there every night before bed.

There are a hundred things you can do to keep yourself safe, and we all have different ways to mitigate our fear. So do whatever you need to do to ease your mind at night.

2. There’s a place for everything

Organization is very important. With a small amount of space, you need to know where your belongings are, so you don’t have to tear up your entire car looking for a specific item. As you get comfortable with your space, you’ll find different organizational tools to help you keep everything squared away.

Knowing exactly where everything is will also help you at night when you’re trying to find something in the dark. It’s generally not a good idea to turn on the lights in your car at night because it will attract unwanted attention, so knowing exactly where your things are will help you navigate your belongings while maintaining your stealth.

Storing valuables in your car becomes a bit of a challenge too. I used to keep my camera, laptops, and passports in my car so I had to ensure all of these items were kept well hidden amongst my belongings. I kept my backpacks and camera bag hidden in the footwell of the back row passenger seat and always kept them covered by my pillows. I kept everything that resembled a purse or bag hidden in my baskets under jackets or blankets. In addition to parking in safer neighborhoods where break-ins were uncommon, these extra precautions helped keep my valuables safe while I was away from my car.

3. Stay clean

You’re in a much smaller space now, which means the dirt and dust gets trapped pretty quickly. It’s a good idea to keep your space clean by vacuuming often, wiping down surfaces, and washing your car when it gets too dirty. It’s also important to keep your belongings clean as well. Keeping up with your laundry, and making sure to be hygienic is all important in staying as healthy as you can in this unique lifestyle.

I was lucky enough to work in an office building that had a fantastic gym and locker room I could use. I made it a habit to workout everyday during my lunch break and shower after my workout was complete. This let me worry less about appearing disheveled and dirty in my daily life, and helped me build a routine.

I became a regular at my local laundromat and would visit every 2 weeks to clean my clothes. I kept a bag of dirty clothes in my car, and though I would often wear the same article of clothing multiple times before washing it, if I had any doubt about the cleanliness of an article of clothing, I wouldn’t hesitate to wash it.

Things You Miss (or Don’t) When You’re Living in Your Car

When I began my car-dwelling adventure in 2017, there were a lot of things I didn’t realize I was giving up. As I navigate my life in a traditional home, I’m slowly discovering all of the things I went without during my vanlife journey. Here are a list of things I didn’t realize I was leaving behind when I began my car-dwelling life.

1 . Paying Rent

Watching a large sum of money disappear into a dark abyss once a month has always been a sore spot. I have had to slow down on my spending when it comes to travel and experiences. Budgeting in this new large expense was something I didn’t have to do for 14-months so it has been difficult to fit it back into my routine. Paying rent has also caused me to be even more appreciate of the daily luxuries that come with living in a traditional home.

2. Hosting Friends

One of the big reasons I decided to move into an apartment was that I was feeling isolated and alone in my endeavors. Now that I’m back in a traditional home, I have the privilege of inviting friends into my space - to share a warm meal, talk about life in a comfortable space, and enjoy the cozy atmosphere of home.

3. Running a Dishwasher

My roommate and I we were sitting in the living room watching Netflix together one evening when I heard a very suspicious noise coming from the kitchen. Thinking that our kitchen was flooding, I nervously asked my roommate “What’s going on? What is that noise?”. She reassured me, saying that she had turned on the dishwasher a few minutes prior and the noise I was worried about was the draining of the water. I had completely forgotten what a dishwasher sounded like.

4. Lounging

Imagine coming home from a long day at work, changing into your comfortable jammies, grabbing the nearest snack, and flipping on the TV to your favorite show and “chilling out” for the evening. That is a evening routine I haven’t gotten to enjoy for over a year. Everyday I had to have some sort of plan on how I was going to spend the rest of my evening because “lounging around at home” wasn’t ever a viable option. Though I enjoyed being constantly productive and efficient with my time while living in my car, I think it’s important to find time to relax and rest from the busyness of life. I recognize that giving myself the time and space to rest has been great for my mental health.

5. Singing in the Shower

Did you know that Spotify has a playlist called “Songs to Sing In The Shower”? You know you do it, and I know you do it. For 14 months I had to bathe in public showers and didn’t have the luxury of carelessly singing along to my favorite tunes.

6. Using a Shopping Cart

Not having a pantry, refrigerator or freezer while living in my car changed the way I prepared and ate food. Luckily, I was committed to my health so I avoided the obvious choice of eating fast food everyday, but that required me to go to the grocery store everyday to buy ingredients for that day’s meals. Not having a way to store food limited my food choices but also meant that I wasn’t able to buy a large quantity of food at one time. During my van-life journey, I never needed to use a shopping cart for my groceries, and only needed to use a shopping basket on occasion. This also helped me be more cost effective and environmentally friendly by eliminating food waste!

7. Waking up to Fully Charged Electronics

Being able to plug in my phone at night before going to bed has been a game-changer for me, especially since I rely on the alarm clock on my phone to wake me up in the morning. In the winter, in addition to worrying about having enough battery for my phone to last through the night, I also had to think about how the cold weather was going to drain my phone battery.

8. Seeing Your Outfit in the Mirror Before Going Into Public

There’s nothing like going out in public and realizing your shoes don’t match your outfit, or you have a stain on your pants, or your hair looks like it got hit by a tornado. Everyday became a Russian Roulette of clothing disasters, but I learned to stick to a handful of favorite outfit combinations, and I was relatively well on my way to avoiding outfit mishaps. Having an apartment with ample access to mirrors has definitely taken the mystery out of my morning routine. Maybe that makes the process of getting ready in the morning a little less fun, but maybe I’ll become more bold with my outfit choices now that I can test them out before I take them out in the public.

9. Cooking

Eating was made a lot simpler while living in my car, because I mostly ate single-ingredient meals (mostly raw vegetables and minimally processed forms of protein), but I definitely missed the joy that comes with creating a healthy wholesome meal with my hands. The manual labor of cutting raw ingredients to throw over a hot pan has always given me a satisfying feeling.

10. Working From Home

I’m extremely privileged to have a job that allows me to work remotely, but while I was living in my car, I didn’t taken advantage of my WFH privileges as much as my coworkers because I didn’t have a home to work from. Occasionally, I would take my work laptop on a trip or on the road and work in a coffee shop at my vacation destination, but for the most part, I was commuting into the office daily to get my work done. Now that I have a home office, I have the option to work from home when I simply feel like it.

Solo Trip to Bogota

Nervous about my first international solo trip, I landed at the El Dorado International Airport and worked up the courage to use my very limited and very broken Spanish to acquire a SIM card, exchange some cash, and grab a taxi to head to my hostel. I gave the driver the address to the hostel, which he did not recognize, and after telling him it was in the La Candelaria neighborhood and setting my google maps GPS to direct us to the hostel, I let out a sigh of relief. While he was driving me to my hostel and occasionally getting lost, I directed him by telling him “derecha aqui”, “izquierda a la calle once”, etc. With 15 minutes remaining on our drive to the hostel, I looked down at my phone to the terrifying realization that my phone only had 9% battery remaining. I thought to myself, “if my phone battery dies now, I have no way of knowing where to go, and neither does my driver”. Luckily, I made it to my hostel with 3% battery remaining, and again, I let out an even deeper sign of relief.

I put my belongings down in my aesthetic and quaint hostel, plugged in my phone, and let my mind rest. As I was hanging out on the hammock in the shared space, figuring out my plan for the rest of the evening, two guys arrived at the hostel named Colin and Luke. Talking to Colin for a bit, I learned that he was a coffee roaster for a small company based out of Chicago.

I started to wander toward the Botero Museum, but got distracted by the large crowds down the street. I wandered past artists selling their handmade jewelry and handwoven bags and into a wide open square covered in pigeons. Looking at google maps, I realized I had wandered into Simon Bolivar Square - a popular tourist destination. I sat in the middle of the square and watched as vendors went around trying to sell jewelry, selfie sticks, fruit, and corn kernels - used to feed the pigeons in the square. I scanned the square and laughed as tourists tried to stay still and pose for a picture as pigeons flocked to their corn kernel-filled hands.

After being approached many times by vendors and being satisfied with the photos I captured in the square, I made my way back up the street to the Botero Museum. Fernando Botero is a famous Colombian artist, made known for his unique painting style of chubby subjects. In addition to artwork from Botero, the museum was also scattered with paintings of Picasso, Monet, and Degas.

The Museum was closing soon so I decided to head back toward the hostel to find a place to eat. I stumbled in on a restaurant called “De Una Travel Bar” and used my best Spanish to order myself a meal and two local Colombian beers. Satisfied with my first meal in Colombia, I made my way back to the hostel, hoping to meet and spend time with some of my hostel mates.

Oscar, who was originally from Sydney, Australia was already hanging out on a hammock in the common room and he was quick to start up a conversation with me. Soon after, Shaun and Emily, a couple from Perth, Australia joined us in the shared space. Emily was originally from the states but recently moved to Perth to be with Shaun. Later, Marcel joined us.

We went around the table and answered the following questions: How long have you been traveling, how long are you in Colombia, where have you been and where are you going? Most of the people around the table had some wild travel stories, and had been on the road for quite some time. I was the odd one out, admitting that I was only in town for the weekend.

We quickly exhausted the conversation about the logistics of each of our travel plans, and began talking about the different places we call home. I was most curious about Emily and Shaun’s story, of how Emily who grew up in the United States learned to live in Australia, whose seasons are opposite to what she was used to. Curious about what mysteries lie on the opposite side of the planet, I eagerly listened to the stories that Emily, Shaun and Oscar had to share about Australia.

Soon it was getting dark so we made plans to go to a nice coffee shop in the morning and went to bed.

I’m not sure if it was the sun or the sound of cars driving by on the cobblestone roads just outside of the window that woke me up in the morning. Coffee is one of my big passions so I sprang out of bed, excited to get going to this nice coffee shop other hostel mates were buzzing about. We gathered our crew and walked to the highly aesthetic coffee shop down the street.

Luckily, this cafe had a cupping (coffee tasting) option where they brought out three different coffees in little taster cups. In addition to the coffee, we also each ordered avocado toast. As the food came to our table, we were blown away at how beautiful and delicious the breakfast looked and joked about how much this delicious breakfast would have cost in our respective countries.

Marcel, David and I planned to do the “Bogota Graffiti Tour”, a local walking tour that took us around the streets of Bogota so we could learn about the graffiti of the region, the history of the artist, and the political and social message behind the artwork. As a solo female traveler, I was nervous about venturing too far from the comforts and safety of the tourist areas, but this tour was a great way for me to comfortably explore more of the city of Bogota without risking my safety.

Our tour guide was very informed about the graffiti in the city, as he was a graffiti artist himself. He explained that many of the pieces in the city were politically motivated and made me appreciate the power of art in cultural and social movements. In addition to having the opportunity to learn about the public artwork, I was also glad to have the opportunity to witness the daily lives of the local people.

Unlike any North American city I have ever been in, I felt as though each of the neighborhoods in Bogota were wearing the emotions of the people that resided in them. In the urban, residential, and economically unstable areas where the effect of the government is palpable, the political and social frustrations of the people manifested in powerful murals that could be found along every main street. In the La Candelaria neighborhood, home to tourism and the international youths, the walls were vibrant, fun and whimsical. The political messages did not adorn the walls of this neighborhood as to not upset or confuse the guests. In the business district of the city, the walls resembled that of a North American metropolitan center - plain, simple as if trying to keep up with other technologically advanced cities.

After two hours of walking around the city of Bogota in the heat of the day, we returned to the La Candelaria neighborhood and found a restaurant with local food. We all ordered the meal of the day, which was a humble coriander soup, rice, salad and a single fried plantain. It was exactly what I needed before returning to the hostel to recharge for the remainder of the day.

I took an hour to recharge - both myself and my phone, and soon after ventured out on the streets of La Candelaria on my own, exploring the architectural details of this colorful town. The lights and shadows of the day played well on the brightly painted walls and the warm sun and Latin American humidity was a treat for my dry and weathered skin.

The sun was beginning to set so I took toward Cerro Monserrate - the mountain that towers over the city of Bogota. I was told that the view from this mountain top would put into perspective the size of the Latin American metropolis. There are three ways to reach the summit - a 2,000 ft vertical hike up the side of the mountain, a cable car (which was currently undergoing repairs), and a funicular - a train like vehicle that slowly trails up the side of the mountain. I didn’t have the proper attire for a hike so I opted out of the active option, which left me with a ride up the funicular. As we climbed to the top of the mountain, I started to grasp the size of the city of Bogota.

Latin America is heavily influenced by the Catholic Church and the city of Bogota is no different. At the top of Monserrate Mountain was a giant Catholic Church that was built to honor God in the highest and most visible place in the city. Looking across to the neighboring mountain, there was a gigantic status of Jesus Christ much like the famous “Christ the Redeemer” statue in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil though this one was not available to the public.

I was expecting to meet up with David, Marcel, and Bella at sunset so I killed some time by venturing around the tourist market while I waited. Time after time I turned down the vendors trying to convince me to buy their souvenir trinkets.

About half an hour before sunset, David arrived and together we looked out on the city in silence. Having just met and both of us being relatively introverted, we didn’t have much to talk about. It brought me joy to look around and see all kinds of people and groups enjoying the sunset on this particular evening. Next to us was a very intimate and well-dressed couple, and if I had to guess, this was one of many romantic stops for the evening. Families with crying babies huddled together s the temperature began to drop. International groups of high schoolers couldn’t contain their excitement to be in a foreign country with their 25 “closest” classmates. And then there was David and me, silently appreciating each other’s company without necessarily needing to fill it with words.

A couple minutes before the sun tipped below the mountains in the distance, Bella showed up with her signature bubbly personality and Marcel quietly tagged along behind her. We enjoyed the final moments of the daylight and as the temperature quickly dropped, we started back toward the funicular and down the mountainside.

We went to a restaurant near the hostel called Gato Gris, another recommendation from a fellow traveler. It was a nicer, more expensive restaurant, but it was my last night in Bogota so I decided to let myself splurge. We were seated in a tiny room in the upstairs corner of the restaurant and I admired the decor in this space. The first thing I realized was that an old door had been fashioned into a dining table, and the space was dimly lit with a uniquely boho light fixture.

As we sat around the table waiting to order, I was surprised at how much our time together was dominated by silence. As a group of travelers with a royal collection of unique experiences, I was expecting our time together to be filled with conversation, jumping in and out of stories and never finding enough time to tell the best stories from each of our travels. Instead, our group tended toward silence, over dinner, while waiting in line to buy tickets for the next tourist attraction, and this uncanny silence took me by surprise.

I woke up bright and early in anticipation for my last day in Colombia. Looking around at the other bunks in my room, it was only me and one other person in the sleeping quarters, and everyone else had continued on with their travels. I was on my own for my last half day in Bogota so I decided to go and explore as many coffee shops as I could. Unfortunately, it was Sunday which meant that most of the cafes were closed, but I had a plan to visit two different ones.

I returned to the cafe we went to the day before - Azahar cafe and in my best Spanish, I ordered another cupping plate, but asked for different coffees from the ones I had the day before. The barista seemed to understand my request and brought me different flavors from the ones I had the previous day. I enjoyed the avocado toast from the day before so I decided to order that as well. After filling up on breakfast, I bought a bag of coffee beans to bring home and went on my way.

I stopped in at the Simon Bolivar square again to see it in a different scenery. Since it was Sunday, there was an ongoing Catholic mass that I got to sit in on for a couple minutes. Though many elements of my faith align with that of the Catholic church, the liturgy and catholic priests performing ceremonial acts made me feel very far from God.

I only had a couple hours remaining so I began to wander over to the next coffee shop. I located the coffee shop on google maps but was unable to find the storefront anywhere. Again in my best Spanish, I asked the security guard of the library if they had any idea where this coffee shop was. In very fast Spanish and some vague hand motions, they directed me into the library, through the hallway and around several corners. After asking several other guards inside the building, I eventually found my way to the very kind cash register who made me a fresh cup of coffee and helped me pick out two more bags of beans to bring home.

I sat on the couch in the silent library hallway, sipping on my coffee when a stranger joined me and began to talk in very fast Spanish while pointing at my camera. I regretfully told him that I didn’t speak Spanish “lo siento, no hablo Espanol” and he lit up and responded in very good English “Oh, do you speak English”?

He told me that he was planning on buying a camera but wasn’t sure what kind he wanted. I walked him through different types of cameras, the different models available, but after a short while, I realized that this all seemed to be going over his head, and I wasn’t sure if that was because of the language barrier or the content of our conversation.

It was time to head back home, and a part of me was glad. I felt like my mind was being pulled in so many directions and I had so much to think about.

On the flight home I had a lot to think about. As my first international solo trip, I carried with me excitement, and fear, and had a mind full of doubts. Being able to explore Bogota with the company of other foreign travelers, I felt much more at ease about my own safety, but felt like sticking to my comfortable, English-speaking bubble limited me from truly experiencing all that Bogota had to offer. Spending time with these carefree, fearless travelers unexpectedly stirred up emotions about a topic I feel so passionately about - the purpose and intention of travel. I once envied the boldness and bravery of people who choose to put their lives on hold to travel the world for several months, but after spending time with these people, I was confronted with the reality of this glamorized life choice.

I still have much to process about my reasons for traveling, and hope to one day be able to develop cohesive thoughts about the value of modern day travel.

3 Things Instagram Doesn’t Show You About Solo Van-Life.

1. It Gets Lonely.

One of the things I love about living in a traditional home is inviting friends over and hanging out over a home-cooked meal. But by consolidating my life into the back of my car, I was no longer able to invite people into my space. Unless I made dinner plans with a friend or I was invited over to a friend’s home, I ended up eating dinner on my own - either at a restaurant or in the front seat of my car.

Many people eat dinner alone in their homes in the evenings, but it’s a little different when you’re in a public space eating alone. I opened myself up to the judgement and scrutiny of the people around me, and sure, I can learn to “ignore the haters” or “not worry about what others think”, but being alone in a crowded room somehow makes me feel more lonely than actually being alone.

Also when living in my car, I became more and more cautious about who I let into my life. Not everyone is accepting of alternative living styles, so I had to be more careful about who I share my secret with. During my vanlife journey, only three of my coworkers knew that I lived in my car, because I worried that my living situation would tarnish the facade of professionalism, and I wasn’t ready for my career growth to be hindered because of it. Even though I wanted to befriend my coworkers and be the bubbly, lively self that I usually am, my need to maintain professionalism hindered me from pursuing friendships in the workplace.

2. You Become More Environmentally Conscious.

Moving into my car in itself was a large reduction of my carbon footprint. Cutting down on the amount of energy used on heating and air conditioning, lighting, and minimizing my water usage are just a few ways that I reduced my negative environmental impact. With a limited amount of space, I had no choice but to reduce my possessions to a bare minimum, and before I knew it, I was be a proud minimalist. I was quickly finding ways to eliminate my material consumption of wasteful products and finding creative ways to find eco-friendlier ways of performing daily tasks, because in addition to being environmentally friendly, it was also most cost-effective in the long run.

My favorite examples of this was my food consumption and clothing choices. Since I couldn’t conveniently store food in my car, daily grocery store trips to purchase just enough food for the day helped me save money and eliminate food waste. I didn’t have a lot of space to store clothes either so fast-fashion was out and I committed to a small selection of versatile basics instead.

3. Cancelled Plans are a Much Bigger Deal.

First, having plans was important. Whether my plan was to do chores or to spend time with friends, I always had to have an idea of how I was going to spend my day because I didn’t have the option of just lounging around at home.

Car-dwelling requires a great deal of planning and discipline. When I had to plan on doing my laundry within business hours, and how and when to prepare meals, it can be hard to be spontaneous with evening plans. In order to make this lifestyle manageable, I had to sacrifice some of my flexibility when it came to making plans during the week.

Sure, plans getting cancelled can be slightly frustrating for anyone, but it became more than just a frustration as a car-dweller. It became a bit of a burden when I had nowhere to retreat to. In the summer, it was much easier to find something to do or a place to go because the weather was in my favor, but in the winter, it became much harder to find a place to go.

Car-dwelling is as adventurous and fun as Instagram and Pinterest make it out to be, but there are surely challenges that come with this unique lifestyle. I hope more honest reflections of the this lifestyle will help you understand that not everything about the digital nomad life is exotic and adventurous. With the decision to try out a life of adventure comes with some sacrifices, and as long as you are willing to make those sacrifices, you will surely be rewarded with a life of endless adventure.

I’m Quitting Vanlife.

The day has come. I can’t keep up with this lifestyle anymore.

There are a hundred reasons to quit vanlife and there are a hundred reasons to continue. I’m still processing this transition, but I’m finally admitting to myself that recently I’ve been unhappy and unsatisfied. Maybe it’s because I had expectations that hadn’t been met, or maybe it’s because my priorities have shifted, but whatever the reason, I need things to change.

I expected to be constantly meeting people in all walks of life and building a wide network of friends. But the truth is, I’ve become even more detached from society. My lifestyle choices were making me less relatable to people, which was becoming a hindrance to developing deeper relationships with friends I already had, and a barrier to beginning new friendships. Most conversations I had with people were centered around me and my lifestyle, and I was getting tired of answering the same questions over and over again. I felt like I was only being recognized for what I was doing instead of who I was. I’m already an introverted person, but after 14 months in my car, I had become isolated.

I expected each day to bring a new challenge to help grow me in my understanding of the human condition. But the truth is, managing the many small challenges of my daily life was enough to keep me too occupied and too exhausted to reflect on the big questions I was hoping to answer. I was too busy trying to make my lifestyle work that I didn’t have the opportunity to truly appreciate and deeply understand the lessons I was learning.

I expected every day to be a crazy new adventure, and to be constantly driven to exploring the world around me. But the truth is, my heart has many desires, and by pressing too deeply into my adventurous side, I neglected other desires that I carry in my heart, specifically the desire to be in community and to be known and loved by people. I began to operate out of a necessity to chase experiences than by a desire to do so. I developed an apathetic attitude toward life, not realizing that some experiences are better shared with friends.

It wasn’t until a close friend asked me how I was really doing that I realized how unhappy I had become. Talking with her about how I felt alone in my pursuits, and desperately wanted people to share my experiences with made me realize that something had to change.

These last 14 months have been my best effort to enjoy all of the experiences that I’ve ever entertained. I gave myself full permission to say yes to any and all adventures so I could live life with no regrets. But in choosing to continue my car-living adventure in Colorado, I unintentionally categorized my time in Colorado as temporary. I may have originally intended Colorado to be the first stop among many future moves, but I’ve fallen in love with this place more than I originally thought I would. By committing to a nomadic lifestyle, I had given myself an excuse not to invest in relationships, because in my head, I would be leaving soon anyway.

So I’m changing my perspective on my time in Colorado. There is no guarantee that I will be here forever, but I don’t want to hesitate in this season of my life. I don’t want to be partially present in Colorado, I want to be fully committed to this place while I’m here. It feels like I’m starting over, and that’s terrifying. But I’m okay with that.

This past season has been one of the most stretching and growthful times in my life and it’s a little bittersweet to move onto the next chapter, but I’m ready for this change. I can now say that I spent over a year living in my car, an experience that not many people can say that they’ve had. I’ve learned a lot over the last 14 months, and though I’m still processing things, I can say with confidence that I’ve accomplished what I originally set out to do - learn more about my privilege and my responsibilities in this big broken world. So in this new season of life, I hope to apply what I learned, though I’m not sure what that looks like yet. I’m also hoping to learn about contentment - being happy with what I have, appreciative of the season I’m in, and investing in the process of growth and change. I think there will always be a part of me hungry for adventure and I know that I will always be chasing bigger and better things, but I don’t want to forget to be grateful for where I am right now.

So in the spirit of spontaneity, I’ve decided to move in with a girl I met on craigslist, in a beautiful two-bedroom exposed-brick apartment in the Highlands neighborhood of Denver. Angela seems like a really awesome person and the LoHi neighborhood is young and lively. It’s a big change from living out of my car in the suburban town of Boulder, but I’m excited for all that is to come. Here’s to a fresh start, and may this new narrative be even more colorful than the last.

Adventure in Coachella Valley

About a month ago I found incredibly cheap roundtrip tickets to Palm Springs and instantly bought my tickets. While I began planning my trip, I realized that my college friend Lor-Shing lived in LA - only an hour and a half drive away. She was free for half of the weekend so she decided to come join me in the desert.

I arrived on Friday at 11am. I was planning on working remote for the day and Lor-Shing had some work to get done, so we found a coffee shop nearby and stopped in for the morning.

Though we had work to get done, we were both so eager to catch up and talk about all that had happened in our lives since the last time we saw each other. Giving ourselves more work and study breaks than we deserved, we found little moments to share anecdotes and eventually dove into a informative and self-reflective conversation about our personality traits and enneagrams.

Realizing that we were doing more talking than working and that we weren’t expecting to get too much work done for the rest of the day, at 4pm we packed up our belongings and sat in her car figuring out what to do next. We decided to venture into the snowy mountains of Mount San Jacinto via the Aerial Tram. We drove through the canyon leading to the base of the clouded mountains that towered over the town. The steady incline was proving to be a challenge to Lor-Shing’s sedan, but we let our conversation about life and love drown out the sound of the high rpm gear shifts of the car.

We beat the tour bus by a couple minutes and avoided waiting in the painfully long and restless line of tourists eagerly awaiting their trip up the side of the mountain. We entered the tram and as we began our ascent into the misty clouds above, we were surprised to feel the platform begin to turn. The circular platform made three rotations on our 15-minute ride to the mountain, giving us a view of both the mountain station ahead and the valley below.

For a 5 minute segment of our ride, we entered into a Jurassic Park like scene as the thick fog kept us from seeing only a couple hundred feet around us. My childhood fear of pterodactyls appearing from a dark fog crept back into my heart until we broke through the fog and were enlightened to see a wintery landscape atop the eerie cloud blanket.

We stepped off the tram into a cold wintery wonderland, much like the snowy Colorado mountains I had just left hours ago. Around us were unprepared Californians fashioning their flip-flops and short sleeves and Lor-Shing mentioned that this was the first time she had seen snow since living in Washington years ago. We wandered among the shaded forests on the mountainside, occasionally sinking into the deep snow and stepping back in shock as my stylish booties and Lor-Shing’s cloth sneakers weren’t built for cold and wet conditions.

We made our way back to the warm cabin and found a secluded corner to enjoy our hot chocolates and continue our conversation about where we were headed in life. In between our reflective conversation, we lulled into long spells of silence, where we turned our face to the sun and let the self-reflective thoughts sink into our hearts. The sun was beginning to set so we decided to make our way back down to a more favorable warm climate 10,000 feet below.

We were both tired from the travels and adventures of the day so we stopped in at our AirBnb and took a long nap to recover. I was jerked awake, and in a panic checked my clock to the surprise that I had slept for two hours. We were both incredibly hungry so we quickly found a Mexican restaurant to fill our stomachs. By the time we were done eating, it was too late in the day to do anything else so we went back to the AirBnb with a pint of dairy-free ice cream and called it a night.

Lor-Shing needed to leave by 12:30 to make it back to Los Angeles, so we decided to get an early start to Joshua Tree National Park to make the most of our remaining time together. I had visited Joshua Tree National Park once while I was a college student, but the drive was completely unfamiliar to me. We arrived as the ranger was getting to the entrance station so we were hopeful to be some of the first people in the park.

We had no rigid plan so we drove through the park and stopped at unique spots along the way as they peaked our interest. We climbed among the rocks, wandered through the Joshua Trees, leisurely enjoying the warm sunlight against our skin.

We stumbled across some boulderers in the park, so even though I wasn’t properly dressed, I borrowed a pair of shoes from the friendly climbers and jumped on a couple easy climbs. I caught myself saying “I definitely need to make a climbing trip out here” several times and made a mental note to reach out to climbing friends later to gauge interest.

We spent most of our time at the Jumbo Rocks area, wandering among the massive tan-colored rocks, laying out on the surface of the rocks and letting the sun warm our skin and hearts. There’s something about carelessly wandering around a foreign landscape, throwing my arms in the air and twirling with and against the wind, that makes me connect with my whole self. Letting the emotions of my heart manifest in frustrating screams, a fit of laughter, or uncontrollable tears, creates space for my heart to show her true colors, and gives my brain the opportunity to catch up and recognize where my heart’s at.

This time, twirling to the beat of the joyful music in my heart, I laughed and smiled, and thanked God for friends like Lor-Shing that ground me and remind me of the gifts He has granted me in this stage of my life. I thanked Him for granting me the opportunity to experience freedom like never before, and trusting me to share my story with the world.

We walked, we danced, we laughed, but it was soon time to say goodbye. Goodbyes are difficult, especially when you don’t feel like you’ve had enough time to properly catch up. I still had so much I wanted to do with Lor-Shing, but she had to return to her ever-changing life in Los Angeles so at 2pm, she dropped me off in downtown Palm Springs and she was on her way home.

My plan was to wander around the town of Palm Springs until it got dark, then return to the airport to pick up my rental car. I had four hours to kill, and an entire town to explore, so how bad could it be? I didn’t realize that Palm Springs was a very bougie town, and unfortunately didn’t find anything that interested me as I walked around town. I also wasn’t hungry so stopping into a restaurant to enjoy a meal wasn’t an option. I found a quiet spot on a side street and took a moment to enjoy people watching and sitting in silence.

Finally it was time to return to the airport to pick up my rental car - a sweet silver Toyota Corolla. It was already dark, but I wanted to try my hand at night photography so I drove back out to Joshua Tree National Park and spent two hours in the cold trying to capture the light of the stars against the beautiful desert landscape.

Instead of finding a place to sleep for the night, I decided that I would car camp in my rental car so I could be more flexible with my schedule. My next destination was a two hour drive away and my plan was to car-camp in the desert area surrounding it, but after an hour of driving, I was too tired to continue driving. So I stopped in at a 24 hour fitness parking lot and called it a night.

I slept surprisingly well in the Corolla, a much smaller vehicle than my Highlander that I’m used to, but made it work by putting down the back seats and sticking my feet into the darkness of the trunk. I woke up awfully early to take quick shower at 24 hour fitness before heading out to my next destination. After getting freshened up, I drove south along the Salton Sea and witness a beautiful sunrise. The pink and orange sky silhouetted the palm tree farms in such a way that I felt like I was on the beach.

I arrived at Salvation Mountain just as the sun was beginning to peak over the hill. As I was driving up, I could see a couple hundred feet ahead of me the massive lettering on the side of the hill that read “GOD IS LOVE”. The excitement in my heart grew to a skip-and-a-hop toward the vibrant mountain that proclaimed the love of Christ to the world. There were a group of girls taking photos of each other and admiring the 50 foot display of faith and love.

After the girls left, I was the only one remaining and proceeded to walk around the property, examining the hallowed out vehicles that were plastered with the same messages of faith and love. While wandering around, a voice in the distance called out “Good Morning, how are you doing today”? I turned around toward the voice and tried to make out the person who it belonged to. After a couple seconds, I saw a man with crazy curly hair in the shadow of an RV waving and walking in my direction. I answered “I can’t complain. I get to worship Jesus on a Sunday at the most magnificent place in the world”.

He introduced himself as Ron, one of the caretakers of the mountain. He told me about each of the cats that lives on the property, their different personalities and a couple anecdotes about each of them. As other visitors came to have their look, he stayed by my side, shouted a quick greeting and continued on with the conversation we were having.

We didn’t talk too much about faith, although I wish we did. It seemed he was happy to have someone around to listen to stories from his daily life. He was very proud to be part of the salvation mountain family and being a part of the movement to share the love of Christ with others.

For some context, Salvation Mountain lies in a off-the-beaten-path desert town called “Slab City”. Slab City isn’t much of a city at all really, it’s just a collective of vehicle-dwelling folk. Most of the population lived in RVs but it didn’t seem these vehicles were used for transportation at all. Run down tarps and steel sheets held up by wooden posts were makeshift porches outside the entrance of campers ironically decorated with the colors and designs of the desert.

As a charcoal grey Mercedes-Benz Sprinter van sped down the dirt road adjacent to Ron’s home, he let out a snarky comment about “those people” and how they glamorize living out of a vehicle. Oh if only he knew that I was “one of those trendy car-dwellers” too. He’s right though, I don’t understand the lifestyle of the vehicle-dwellers in Slab City, and I hope I don’t seem like I claim to be. That honest comment that Ron made gave me a lot to think about on my drive back to Palm Springs.

Per Ron’s suggestion, I made a quick stop at East Jesus - a whimsical art installation just down the road. From the fuselage an old Cessna plane to a huge wall of old tube televisions, this interesting destination did not disappoint. Here I met a man of many names, but apparently the people here call him “Wizard”. His long beard, excessively tall and crooked wooden cane, and long tattered trench coat suggested that the nickname was founded from his appearance rather than his mystical powers. Wizard aimlessly pointed at several parts around the property and claimed creative genius and manual effort on several of the art pieces. Free from his wizardly mysterious speech about the purpose of the East Jesus art installation, I walked around to each piece to appreciate the handiwork.

After a morning of interesting conversation and much to think about, I drove back to Palm Springs, enjoying the Palm Tree farms along the way.

Next stop was the Moorten Botanical Garden. I heard about a beautiful cactus greenhouse and was excited to see it for myself. The botanical garden held all kinds of desert plants, from the dense fountain-style leaves of the Aloe Vera plant to tiny button cacti. At the entrance of the garden and final stop of the botanical garden loop was a shop with an array of succulents and desert plants that were for sale. I desperately wanted one but my small living space and airplane baggage limitations held me back from making a spontaneously rash decision to purchase a new plant friend.

With a couple hours remaining before I had to head to the airport, I decided to head out to Indian Canyon to see the biggest California Fan Palm Oasis in the world. I didn’t bring any athletic shoes so I wasn’t going to be able to go on a very aggressive hike, but I found two short hikes to explore.

The loop hike at Andreas Canyon was a living, ecological dichotomy. In the desert hills of Agua Caliente Nature Preserve was a lush green oasis sustained by the stream formed from the snowmelt of mountains many miles away. Walking into the valley of the dry barren mountains, I felt my lungs being coated with the moisture from the oasis surrounding me. To the right of the trail was a rock wall carved out from years of steady water erosion, and to my left was the flowing of a crystal clear stream that supplied the nutrients for the massive palm trees that provided my shade.

The loop took me on on the canyon on the south bank of the stream where I could get a aerial view of the oasis against the backdrop of red stone. Back when I would go hiking in the Pacific Northwest, I would be in awe as I looked at a mountaintop view of dense forest around me and ask the daunting question “How many trees do you think we can see from here?”. Asking this question at this particular spot on my hike didn’t seem so daunting. In fact from where I stood, I could probably give you an accurate number within the hour.

It was growing dark and the time to return the rental car was creeping near so I began my drive back to the airport. With a camera full of photos and a happy heart filled with new memories with an old friend, I was heading home to Denver with a smile on my face.

How Living in My Car Went from a Necessity to a Lifestyle Choice.

Life has always been easy for me. I grew up in in a middle class, multicultural family in the suburbs. Sure, I had my fair share of emotional struggles growing up, but for the most part, life has been easy.

I was on way down "the path of success" as it was explained to me: graduate high school, go to college, get a full time job. Next was getting married, buying a house, having children, etc. This is the American Dream. Maybe I’ll want these things someday, but who says I can’t make a couple detours along the way?

I graduated from the University of Washington with a degree in Chemistry. Soon after I graduated, I got a job as a chemist and nestled into the life of routine. The monotony of life caused the days to blend together. Then the uneventful weekends began to blend together. Before long, months blended together and there was nothing to show for the 2 years that had gone by since my graduation.

I had a conversation with my dad in the summer of 2017 that changed my entire perspective on how I wanted to live my life. He said to me "You know honey, I'm 52 years old and I'm just now starting to do the things I want to do. I let all these years go by without really living my life. So don't make the same mistake as me. If you want to do something, go do it. Don't let yourself get in the way of enjoying your life."

Opening my eyes to how sedentary my life had become, I decide to make a drastic change. Within a month of that conversation, I quit my job and enrolled in a coding bootcamp.

Two months into my program, my savings was running out and I was beginning to worry about how I was going to stay afloat. Having supportive parents, I knew that I could always go to them for help if I needed it, but I was determined to make things work for myself. I took a couple of days to try to figure out where I could cut spending - but I had already cancelled my climbing gym membership, my meals were down to about five-dollars a day and I wasn't spending any money on any luxuries. Cutting those things out of my life still wasn't going to be enough. I then asked myself the terrifying question: Why not cut out rent?

At this time in my life, I was spending most of my time studying, or hanging out with friends, which kept me out of my house for most of the day. I didn’t think the minimal time I spent at my house was worth the $700/month I was spending to live there, so I spent a week in September camping out in my car in familiar and safe neighborhoods. It was a challenging week and I learned very fast what I needed and didn't need to survive, bust most importantly I learned that I could make this work long term.

So after I concluded my experiment, I told my roommates I was moving out, started to get rid of most of my belongings, and began organizing the items I was going to bring into my car with me. November 15th was the first day of my car-dwelling journey, and only 5 people knew about my decision.

A couple months in, despite the challenges, I was starting to find enjoyment in my new way of life. Each night, I had the option to explore a new part of town, discovering new restaurants, coffee shops and neighborhoods. I spent most of my time in public spaces, giving me the opportunity to meet new people. I continued to improve my space, making sure every inch was used to its full potential. I learned what I needed and didn’t need, what could have dual uses, and the few personal items I had to have, regardless of its functionality. I started dreaming about all of the places I wanted to travel to, and that dream of becoming a digital nomad started to feel more achievable.

It’s been over a year since I decided to move into my car, and since then, I’ve become more emboldened and taken more risks for the sake of adventure. I’ve successfully changed careers, moved to Colorado, and traveled a lot. Weekend road trips around Colorado and surrounding states had become a norm and has been made simpler with a mobile AWD home. Though I have gained these things, I’ve also sacrificed more than I originally anticipated I would. On those cold Colorado nights as I try to fall asleep to the sound of cars driving by, I think about how differently my life would have turned out had I just asked for help when I needed it.

Life is constantly moving and changing, that's undeniable. But we have the choice of what side of life we get to be on - the side that's moving or the side that sits back and watches the world move around them. I'm not satisfied with watching the world fly by around me. I don’t know how long I’ll continue to live this crazy life on the road, but I know that I’ll always choose challenge over complacency. I want to live a life in motion, no matter what that looks like.

November 23-29: Aruba, Beyond the Beaches

For the most part, all of my trips are meant to help me learn more about people of all backgrounds to better understand my place in this world, and to find out how to use my privilege to share the beauty of cultures with the world. When I go to explore a new place, sometimes I have a good idea of what I’m getting myself into but I try not to have an expectation of what my trip is going to look like.

But when my family and I decided to go to Aruba for our thanksgiving vacation, I was just excited to be escaping the Colorado cold, and I didn’t really know what to expect. I didn’t do too much research about Aruba and figured we would take it one day at a time. It’s a small island anyway, how much could there possibly be to do? Hint: There is surprisingly a lot.

After travelling for over 12 hours, we finally landed in Oranjestad, Aruba and were too exhausted to do anything too adventurous. We picked up our rental car, went to our first hotel, and took a moment to rest. While my mom took a quick nap, my dad and I walked to the beach that was a couple minutes from the hotel.

While adjusting to the sights and warmth of the island, our commentary didn’t stray far from “Wow, I can’t believe we’re actually here.” We wandered back to the hotel, met up with my mom, and ventured toward the southern end of what I would later discover as the “Resort Town”, grabbed an incredibly overpriced meal for dinner, and called it a night. Tomorrow is going to be a great day.

Most people that go to Aruba tend to stay within the 5 mile stretch of beaches and resorts and choose not to venture away from the comforts of their resort. I understand that not everyone likes to be active on vacation and I understand that there is value in relaxation, but I believe that “resort vacations” create more limitations than opportunities for travelers. Though Aruba is a small island, there is so much to do and see, and staying in the confines of a hotel limits that experience.

We began driving down to the south end of the island, and watched the resorts slipped away into the distance, and the buildings began to resemble the homes of the locals, and I was glad to see that the local culture was still alive on this tourism-heavy island. Bright-colored, run-down houses lined the pothole-covered dirt roads, and stray dogs wandered these roads in the midday heat. Parked in front of the houses were cars, trucks and vans with rust damage from the salt water. Our tiny kia picanto, while its crooked license plate, manual locks, and hand crank windows may have been a gesture of humility, stood out with its giant “payless car rental” sticker plastered in the back window.

Our first stop was the Red Anchor that was built in memory of a fallen seaman. After stopping to snap a couple of photos, we continued our drive toward the lighthouse at the southern tip of the island. While I was mindlessly looking out the window and enjoying the Caribbean music on the radio, I realized we were driving by a cemetery. Hundreds of crosses, rock piles, and makeshift plaques filled the grassy field, and after giving the crosses and plaques a closer look, I realized that it was a cemetery for pets.

Our drive up to the Sero Colorado Lighthouse was slow and careful, but I didn’t mind because the landscape was so unique. Never before have I seen cacti and palm trees growing alongside each other along the beach.

We began our journey back into town to grab some lunch. San Nicolas isn’t a popular destination for tourists so yelp and google weren’t very informative about the restaurant options in the area. Because the southern part of the island isn’t well visited, I was hopeful that the restaurants would be more authentic, and more reasonably priced compared to the restaurants in the resort town. Luckily, I was able to find a Caribbean restaurant in downtown San Nicolas so we decided to go there.

While looking over the menu, and having a hard time deciding what to order, a group of locals sat at the table next to us. One of them ordered a seafood curry so I decided to trust the judgement of the locals and order the same. I was not disappointed.

Before heading to our next destination, we decided to walk around downtown to admire the murals that we saw on our drive in. Every street-facing wall was adorned with bright colored murals of all different styles, and the trees and streetlights were covered with holiday decorations, which felt oddly out of place.

While looking to see if there was any bouldering locations on the island, I discovered that there were two “boulder fields” or rock formations on the island, one was called Casibari Rock Formations and the other was called Ayo Rock Formations. There were no formal routes at each of these locations, but it appeared there were decent boulders that would make for some fun challenges.

We decided to head to the Casibari Rock Formations first. I was expecting lots of visitors to such a unique destination, but was surprised when we were the only ones there. As we walked around the boulder field, we found a steep, stone staircase that led up to the top of a hill. It wasn’t until I reached the top of the steps that I realized that this boulder field was located near the center of the island. We were treated with a 360-degree view of the island with a epic view of Sero Hooiberg, or Mount Hooiberg - the lone mountain standing in the middle of the island. I was also surprised at how big the island looked from this viewpoint. I was able to see the beach far off in the distance to the west, but lost the coastline as I moved my eyes toward the north and the south, and I could only see mountains to the east.

I took some time to enjoy the view from the top of the Casibari Rocks. Since arriving here and realizing that tourism was quickly dominating the economy and culture of Aruba, my heart has been unsettled. I love travel because it grants me the opportunity to appreciate God’s creativity through experiencing unique cultures. At the same time, I wrestle with the thought that as a traveler, I am indirectly supporting the tourism industry that has a tendency of disrupting the lifestyle of the local people. I struggle with understanding the balance between celebrating a culture for its uniqueness and filtering my experience through financially focused entities.

I carried these thoughts with me to the top of this hill, and as I looked around, I saw in the distance the seemingly small patch of land dedicated to the resorts. As I turned around and saw the vast land around me that looked untouched by foreign hands, my heart felt more at ease. I walked back down the steps at Casibari with a stronger sense of responsibility for presenting travel destinations and the people of those cultures as honestly as I can, and to reduce my cultural impact as much as I can when I travel to foreign places.

There weren’t any boulders at Casibari Rock that I wanted to climb, so we headed toward our next destination - the Ayo Boulders. Walking along the path through the unique Ayo rock formations, I found a boulder that I recognized from the climbing resources I read online, so I strapped on my climbing shoes and began scouring my way up the side of the rock.

It had been awhile since I had climbed and fear definitely kicked in as I climbed with no protection, but trusting my skill, strength and technique, I was able to send a humble boulder. Climbing back down on the backside of the boulder, we continued to walk among the boulders of the park.

Walking through the boulders, I felt like a kid on a playground. The path led us through dark tunnels, narrow walkways and sketchy steps. We ventured off the path to get a better view of the park and my goofy mom played around on the rocks like a kid. Adopting a new set of scrapes from squeezing through small spaces, we began to wander back to the car.

We wrapped up our night by walking around the resorts, stopping into shops to see if there were any knick-knacks we wanted to bring home. After enjoying an overpriced meal and an overpriced drink, we made our way back to our resort and called it a night. I went to bed excited about the full day of adventure planned for tomorrow at Arikok National Park.

When I was researching things to see in Arikok National Park, the two most popular destinations were Quadrikiri cave and the Conchi Natural Pool. I was determined to go to both of these locations, even if that meant spending the entire day in the park. Since I had put in the most time and effort in researching the national park, my parents gave me the go ahead to plan the day.

After we received our bright orange wristbands, we entered the park and began our very slow drive to the eastern edge of the park. Our low-clearance kia picanto struggled over the 50 storm water runoffs on our way to our first destination, but we eventually made it in one piece. We stopped our car at Boca Prins - a beach with that was sandwiched between two 50-foot cliffs. Watching the waves crash against the cliffs and erupt into a splash of water as the forces of nature collided was awe-inspiring.

We stopped in at the restaurant parking lot where we saw the horrific image of a young man sitting in in the passenger seat of a UTV with a serious chest injury. His white t-shirt was covered in blood and he clenched the left side of his chest, and his facial expressions made it clear he was holding back tears and probably a colorful set of words.

We heard sirens off in the distance so knowing that help was on the way, we continued on to the highly anticipated destination - Quadrikiri Cave.

I saw photos of this cave online while looking into the places to go in the national park and I’ve been excited at an opportunity to take a cool photo here. From the outside, it didn’t look like much, a set of stairs that led up to the entrance of the cave and a sign that depicted a mythological story about the cave’s foundation. We carefully walked up the steep steps to the entrance of the cave, ducked our heads and stepped into the darkness. About 50 feet in front of us was a spotlight from above, but it was just far enough away to keep us from being able to see the ground below our feet. As we approached the light ahead, we walked into a dome like space with a natural skylight that powerfully lit up the room.

We continued deeper into the earth through a dark narrow tunnel into another open space with another pair of skylights that shined down into the middle of the room like a spotlight. We were the only ones in the cave for awhile and the eerie silence was broken only by my mom’s continual reminder that she was afraid of the dark and wanted to leave. We visited one more cave, Fontein cave, which housed some petroglyphs of the native islanders.

Most of the day so far had been in the comfort of our car so we decided to go on a hike. We drove to the north entrance of the park and began our hike to the Conchi Natural Pool. The Conchi Natural Pool is essentially an arc of rocks along the rocky coast that form a convenient pool of water that is somewhat shielded from the rough waters of sea. There are many paths to get to the pool, but due to the aggressively rocky terrain, the only way to reach the pool is by UTV or by foot.

The hike was three miles round trip so with our cameras, and swimsuits in hand, we began to walk. Groups of UTVs drove past us and I could have been jealous of how much faster they would get to the natural pool, but I was happy to be in the sun and stretching my legs.

The Conchi Natural Pool was full of people splashing around and having a good time. At this point in the day, the tide was coming in so the waves were splashing against the rock arc and creating a heavy current in the pool. My mom, who carries a very real fear of swimming, chose against swimming in the rough waters and found a more quiet secluded place to swim instead.

The place we found was on the north side of the beach and had plenty of small shallower pools to splash around in. My dad was experimenting with his new 4K underwater camera while my mom and I splashed and played in the water as if we were kids. After thoroughly enjoying time at the pool, we were ready to take cover from the harsh sunlight. We grabbed our bags and began the 1.5 mile hike back to the car.

People sped by us in their Jeeps as we walked through the hot sun, and I took a moment to ask myself if I felt like I was missing out on a unique experience by not spending the money to rent a Jeep and drive around the trails on the island. After giving it some thought, I didn’t feel like joining a Jeep tour would change the experience I had in visiting Aruba.

When I travel, my goal is to learn about cultures, interact with people, and better understand the human condition and the way God uniquely created human beings. I love outdoor adventures and rugged expeditions, but in this situation, taking a Jeep out to the natural landmarks of the island versus walking to them didn’t make a difference on how much I appreciated them.

My family and I have always been budget travelers with the occasional spendy purchase. We tend to avoid tours and vacation packages and prefer to have the freedom to travel on our own agenda, but we also try not to let our frugality keep us from missing out on special opportunities. Through years of traveling together, we’ve learned to recognize our tendencies of being frugal have become better at gauging which experiences are worth spending money on.

We were sun-kissed, sweaty, and sore so we returned to our hotel, enjoyed a beer, and relaxed by the pool for the rest of the evening.

After several days of active exploration, my parents an I were ready to take some time to relax on the beach. Since we were staying at a resort in the Resort Town, we were minutes away from the beach.

We were walking along the beach to find a place to relax for the morning, and I noticed a section of the beach was blocked off for construction. I unfortunately didn’t realize that the fence was being held up by a concrete block that was hidden under the sand, and slammed my pinky toe into the concrete block.

Breaking my toe wasn’t even the worst part. My mom broke her sandals while we were at the Conchi Natural Pool and was thinking about buying a new pair. As a proud owner of the Chacos Women’s Z1 Sandals, I tried convincing her to that Chacos was the way to go. My dad is a proud owner of Keens and tried convincing her to that Keens were far superior to Chacos. Having broken my toe walking around on the beach in my Chacos, my mom was convinced that Chacos would not be the next sandal she invested in. I was in pain and defeated.

I didn’t read any raving reviews about the Aruba Aloe Factory and Museum so at first, I didn’t think to make the effort to visit it, but since we had the time to do some exploring, we decided to check it out and I am so glad we did.

The tour guide began with an explanation of the benefits of Aloe Vera, its uses cosmetically and medically, and a demonstration of how to harvest the plant. I was impressed with how swiftly the tour guide was able to pull apart the gel from the leaf of the plant and was surprised to hear that at this factory, the harvesting process was done entirely by hand. Our tour guide continued the tour by telling us the history of the Aloe Vera plant on the island of Aruba. The Aloe Vera plant is not native to the island, but after realizing it grew well in the dry and warm climate, Aloe Vera farms and factories began to pop up all around Aruba, becoming the second leading industry on the island after the oil refinery industry.

Since the arrival of the American and European tourism corporations in the 1940s, Aloe Vera farms were driven out of business as hundreds of farms across the island fell to the rapidly growing real estate prices. There are only a handful of Aloe Vera farms remaining in the island, and Aruba Aloe was the largest of them.

The tour guide took us through a incandescent catwalk that looked down into the factory, while explaining the process of harvesting, refining, creating, and bottling up the Aloe Vera cosmetic products. At the conclusion of the tour, we had the opportunity to buy some of the products in their store.

There are 23 houses of worship on the island of Aruba, and majority of them are of the Christian faith. Of those Christian churches, most of them are of the Catholic denomination. Next on our agenda was a visit to the Alta Vista Chapel, one of the Catholic chapels on the island. When I saw a quick review of it online, I wasn’t sure what made this chapel special, but reading up on the history of the church upon our arrival made me realize what made this chapel important among the other churches.

The quaint yellow chapel stood tall at the top of a hill in the middle of a desert landscape with a distant view of the ocean. This chapel was originally built in the 1750s by Venezuelan missionaries, and was recently rebuilt in 1952. This was the chapel where many Aruban natives converted to Christianity, so this place is held close to the hearts of the native peoples.

We saw some hiking trails that lead to the coast, but we had already had a long day of walking and we were afraid that we would run out of sunlight so we decided to move on to the next destination. My mom was curious about a place called “Phillip’s Animal Farm”, so we decided to head in that direction. I wasn’t sure if it was a farm or a zoo, but apparently they had animals there. And I like animals.

We were given a wax bag with treats and carrots, and were told that we could feed any animal EXCEPT the monkeys. Noting that, we walked through the gate and into this mysterious animal farm. As we visited each caged animal, my heart began to break more and more. It was evident that these animals were not happy, and it made me angry that anyone would be able to cage them up like this. We saw all sorts of animals, including ostriches, donkeys, camels, kangaroos, parrots, emus, and ocelots.

We finally reached the monkeys and immediately I could tell that these creatures were not happy to be caged. One of them ran up to cage where I stood, and grabbed the cage bars, looked me in the eye with the saddest expression I had ever seen. I snapped a couple of photos, told the little guy how sorry I was that he had to be caged up and began walking away. As I turned around to start walking away, the little guy began throwing a fit by screaming and waving his arms around like a human child, and when I turned around to face him, he threw a rock directly at my face.

I was in shock. A monkey just him me in the face with a rock.

It took me a moment to process what had just happened, but after a minute or two, the confusion subsided and my heart broke into a million pieces. This poor little punk of a monkey has probably known nothing beyond those four cage walls and is desperate to get out and be free, as he was meant to be.

After a moment, I went back and visited my favorite donkey. I liked him because even if I didn’t have food to give him, he hung out by the fence and let me pet him.

Frustrated at the concept of businesses making money off the suffering of these poor animals, we washed our hands and began to leave the “farm”. Luckily, my dad sparked up a conversation with an employee about what the farm was all about. The employee told us that the farm was owned by a man that deeply cares about animals and took in all of these animals when a zoo closed down on Aruba. Instead of the consequences that would have otherwise fallen on these animals, the owner decided to nurture them back to health and prepare them to be transported either back into their natural habitat or to other zoos if they were too domesticated to be let back into the wild.

Mike was the kind employee that explained all of this to us. We returned to our car and while we were pulling out our GPS to figure out how to get back to the hotel, we heard a knock on our window. Mike had rushed over and asked us if we would be willing to give him a ride to the main street as his car had broken down. My parents were kind enough to let him jump in.

He humbly asked that we drop him off just down the street at the main road, but my parents insisted us take him to his home. While we drove to his home, he asked us where we were from and shared with us a little bit about his background and family. He grew up on the island of Aruba but he doesn’t have too much family here anymore.

He told that most of his family has moved away from the island, his cousins were in the Dominican Republic, and a couple family members moved to the states. He was excitedly telling us that they were going to have a big family reunion sometime in December in the Dominican Republic, but that it’s been difficult being in Aruba without too many of his family members around.

He was so appreciative of us for taking him to his home, and explained that he’s been quite busy lately and hadn’t gotten around to getting his car fixed. He was working full time at the farm, taking night classes, and working a second job on the weekends.

After driving for a solid 10 minutes, we finally got him to where he needed to be. Oh how blessed I am for the life I’ve been granted.

This was our last full day on the island and we only had a couple things left to do. The lighthouse on the south end of the island wasn’t very impressive, but the California lighthouse located on the northern tip of the island was magnificent so we decided to go take a look.

There were big crowds of people coming in and out on tour buses. Most people chose to snap a couple of photos from a distance and hang out around the snacks and souvenir booth. When we approached the door at the base of the lighthouse, we were instructed that we could climb up to the top of the lighthouse for the price of $5. My dad and I excitedly pulled out our wallets, handed the gate keeper our five-dollar bills and opened the door to begin our climb. The inner diameter of the lighthouse was no more than 7 feet and the staircase wound around a concrete post with no handrails. Each step was a little over a foot tall, and on each of the steps there was just enough surface area for the ball of my foot.

The very sketchy climb to the top of the lighthouse was rewarded with a 360-degree view of the northern end of the island. We could see the resort town and golf course to the south west, the mountains of the national park to the south east and the expanse of the ocean to the north.

I found a beach on the map that we hadn’t been to in the southern part of the island near the town of San Nicolas. Though that was a bit of a drive from where we were at, I wanted to find a beach that was less crowded to hang out at so we decided to give it a shot.

It was slightly overcast so the beach was completely empty, so we had the whole beach to ourselves. I was the first to jump into the warm water, but stayed relatively close to shore because there were some sharp rocks further out from shore. My mom decided to join a short while later, and together we floated around and had a good time.

About half an hour after we arrived, another man arrived and joined us in the water. He came and introduced himself - Ferdinand. But his friends call him Ferdi.

He lives a couple blocks away in the town of San Nicolas. He’s retired now, but he used to work in the tourism industry. He’s lived in Aruba for 23 years, and before that, French Guiana, and before that, Suriname. He’s a kind man, and tries to make an effort to reach out to the tourists he sees at this beach. He’s goofy, and tells my mom that he knows a little Japanese. “Ai shiteimasu“, he says. I love you. He laughs, saying he learned how to say "I love you” in many different languages. He lists off those languages. It’s a list too long to remember. My mom jokes back - “you must have many girlfriends around the world“. He laughs.

He has a garden. my parents have a long, drawn out conversation with him about farming and the native plants of the island. My parents are curious about the gardening conditions, what plants grow native here, and why there aren’t any papaya trees in people’s front yards!

I ask Ferdi about the grocery stores. I noticed that all of the grocery stores in Aruba have Chinese names, yet I haven’t seen too many Asian people on this island. Ferdi tells me that the grocery stores have been run by Chinese owners for many years. He’s not sure why, but that’s just how it is.

Ferdi is very knowledgeable about this small part of the world. He loves this island with his whole heart and doesn’t ever see himself living anywhere else. Parts of his life have been challenging and he’s been thrown in a wild loop , but he’s found a home here.

Ferdi had to head back to work on his car, so after giving ourselves some time to dry off in the sun, we drove toward a seafood restaurant in the town of San Nicolas to enjoy a late lunch.

We walked up to a counter with a simple menu - fish of the day, shrimp, corn bead, plantains, tartar sauce. Confused at how we were supposed to order, the young guy at the register explained to us that we pay for the fish by the piece and the shrimp by the weight. Still confused, he showed us how big a piece of fish was, explained that the seafood was battered, seasoned and fried. We ordered two pieces of fish, six shrimps, two plantains, one piece of cornbread and tartar sauce. The total came out to be twenty dollars.

The restaurant was located right on the beach and a dock led out onto the water. At the end of the dock were three tables with umbrellas, so we sit out at one of these tables and eat while enjoying the view of the coastline. While we waited for our food to be prepared, we watched as the chefs skinned, gutted, and de-boned the fish we would soon be eating. The guts and bones went directly overboard into the water and we watched as the seagulls swept into collect their meals and the fish swarmed to get their portion. Even while we were eating our meal, all of our bones and scraps went off the dock and into the beaks if the seagulls or to the hungry fish below our feet.

Right as we left the restaurant, the rain began to pour, but by the time we reached our hotel, the rain had already subsided. Again, we decided to take the evening to rest, and enjoyed our last sunset on the beach. Tropical musical played in the background while the palm trees and waves swayed at a much slower beat. The smell of salt filled my nose as I sat back and watched older couples walking along the beach, hand-in-hand, parents chase down their young ones, and young lovers teasing each other and splashing around the water to finding any excuse to hold each other close.

We had to be at the airport by noon, so we packed up our suitcases and spent our last couple hours lounging on the beach. I put on my swim suit, sunglasses and headphones, and focused on the joyful feeling of having the warmth of the sun against my skin. I would return to the cold climate of Colorado with tan skin, and a rejuvenated spirit.

FAQs About Living in My Car

1. Where do you shower?

Why is this always the first question I get asked when I tell people I live in my car? Are you all trying to tell me that I smell bad?!

Anyways, I have a gym membership at a 24 hour fitness so I have access to a shower at all times. It's also a great motivation to go the gym so, win-win. Since starting my job in Denver, I have been working out every day at the gym in my office building so I shower during my lunch break. How convenient!

2. Where do you sleep? I currently park on the streets of the suburban town of Boulder, Colorado. I've got a handful of spots that I've vetted that I know are safe and comfortable spots to park, so I'll rotate through spots as to not raise suspicion or annoyance with the people live/work there. I've picked out spots on a couple residential streets, office parks, and around industrial buildings.

3. What do you eat? I eat a pretty simple diet. I don't cook (because I can’t) and I try to limit how often I eat out. I usually prepare a glorious salad at work for lunch and usually eat raw vegetables and a simple source of protein in the evenings. I have a refrigerator at work that I use to store my ingredients, and replenish it often. This way I'm able to eat healthy and reduce food waste. Of course, I'll go out to eat with friends on occasion as well :)

4. Where do you use the bathroom?!

This question always comes as a whisper. I find that particularly funny.

Grocery stores and gas stations are open pretty early/late, so I make sure to keep one close by. I also combine (almost) daily grocery runs with bathroom runs! But worst comes to worst, I'll find a bush.

5. How do you stay warm?

This is always the hardest question to answer, because truth is, I'm not always warm. The summer months are amazing, because all I need is a light blanket and I get to open my sunroof for a light breeze. But in the winter, it can get pretty brutal. I have a blanket and a down comforter that I use to bundle up and keep myself warm. It's usually enough to keep me at a slightly uncomfortable but tolerable temperature and I only really start to worry if the weather forecast predicts the temperature to drop below 20 degrees.

The lowest temperature I've slept in is 8 degrees, so I know it's possible, but too many miserably cold nights I'm sure could lead to some medical problems. So on those painfully cold nights, I'll take refuge at a friend's house.

6. What do you do during the day?

I work from around 7:30 to 4:30 so most of the day I’m in the office. In the evenings, sometimes I’ll lounge around in my car (Netflix anyone?) but not having a traditional place to lounge encourages me to reach out to friends, go to a coffee shop, go to the gym, basically anything to be in public spaces. It’s a great opportunity to engage with people in my community and make new friends!

7. What kind of car do you have?

I have a 2002 Toyota Highlander. once you put the seats down, there’s actually a lot of space to move around!

8. Why are you doing this?

There are so many reasons, but I didn't start living in my car out of choice. My car-life journey began in November 2017 when I was attending a coding bootcamp. I was excited about changing careers and making bold moves in my life to escape the rat race. I didn't have the bandwidth to get a part-time job while focusing on my studies, so I was quickly exhausting my savings.

Soon, I realized I was no longer able to afford rent and had to figure out how I was going to make things work. I did a quick calculation in my head and realized that I was spending ~$23 per day on rent per day. I was only ever at my house to sleep and shower, and I started to wonder if there was a way I could reduce or eliminate that cost altogether. Being a little stubborn and prideful, I wasn't ready to ask my parents or my friends for help, so I tried car camping around my hometown for a week, and to my surprise found it to be very manageable. So, I made the desperate and spontaneous decision to move out of my old house, and into my car.

I couldn't have done it alone. I had three amazing friends that stored my belongings while I was trying to figure out what I needed and what I could get rid of. I had a couple trusted friends that I watched out for my safety and checked in with me to make sure I was doing alright.

I got a job as a barista in January, and then as a software engineer in Denver in April. So why do I continue this lifestyle even though I'm financially capable of living in an apartment?

The short answer is, I love the freedom.

I’ve gained the freedom to spend my hard-earned money on things that are important to me, rather than watching my money disappear into the renters abyss. I get to spend my money on travel and life experiences, and to me, these experiences are worth so much more than the comforts of a traditional living space. I love the freedom that comes with living a life of minimalism - to reduce my possessions to a bare minimum and not letting the weight of my belongings control my thoughts and feelings. By reducing my carbon footprint and minimizing my environmental impact, I feel like I am intentionally and actively doing my part in the environmental crisis of the 21st century. I’m free from the expectations of our modern society, that our life has to look a certain way to achieve happiness.

This lifestyle, as exciting and adventurous it may be, also comes with challenges. Sure, the extra effort to find a safe sleeping spot, the inconvenient bathroom runs, and finding places to spend my evenings are challenges in themselves. But through this lifestyle, I have a unique look into the harsh reality of homelessness and poverty. I'm not trying to say I understand the life of the homeless of the poor, because as a well-educated, middle-class Asian-American, I was born into privilege that so many in this country don't have. In my lifetime, I will never understand the life of the homeless but this lifestyle allows me to relinquish my privilege in the circumstances I do have control over. I can relate with the homeless about having to sleep in the cold. I can relate to them about inconvenient bathroom runs. I can relate to the fear of being asked to leave because they consider you a loiterer.

I still have a lot I’m wrestling with, and I’m still not sure what kind of story God intends to paint with my life. But I want to continue to learn and grow, and I’ve accepted that this lifestyle is part of that journey.

9. How long will you continue?

I don't know. I’ve thought about building out a van, but if I do choose that route, it won’t be for at least another year. For now, I’m letting things take their course, and until things change, I’ll be on the road, embracing the freedom that comes with this lifestyle. While I lead this life though, I hope you will join me on my journey and be inspired to start saying yes to the things that scare you.

Be bold in the decisions you make, and take control of your life. Do good in the world, wherever you are, and however you can. I promise, the world is a kinder, more beautiful place if you just let yourself see it. See the world, and learn from it.

And if you want to, move into your car. I bet it will change your life.

November 3-4, 2018: Blown Away by Chicago

One of the downsides of budget traveling is that you need to buy tickets a couple months in advance. Because of this, you run the risk of missing out on potential future gatherings with friends. This weekend was one of those weekends.

I was slightly frustrated, not with myself but the predicament I was in. I’m starting to take action on my love for travel and I believe it makes me happier and a better person. I enjoy new experiences and learning about different cultures, but by prioritizing travel, I’m choosing to sacrifice other valuable things - one of those things being spending time with and getting to know new friends.

But it’s these feelings of FOMO (fear of missing out) that drive me to make plans on the weekends that I am in town, and to make the most of that time I have with the people I care about. Life has so much to offer, and of course there’s no way to do it all, but being reminded of my limited time helps motivate me to do all that I can with the relatively short time I have. This weekend, I promised myself some introverted time exploring a new city, so pushing the feelings of FOMO aside, I committed to making the most of my time in Chicago.

I knew that I was only going to have one full day of good weather and that the chance of rain was high on Sunday, so I chose to wander around the suburban neighborhoods of Chicago on Saturday and downtown on Sunday.

I spent the day wandering around the neighborhood of Wicker Park, enjoying the liveliness of the young adult professionals in the well-manicured neighborhood. The main street was lined with shops and restaurants suited for the social millennials. Walking through the neighborhood and admiring the beautiful brick houses, I started thinking about the possibility of someday owning a cute house like this, settle down in a suburban neighborhood somewhere with a loving family and stable job. “Let’s just keep that a dream for now” I told myself as I walked around during a spontaneous trip to a foreign city on my own on a random weekend in November.

I was really excited about going to the wndr museum, and experimental museum meant to explore how science and art collide. This museum was currently featuring the Yayoi Kusama Infinity Mirror Room, which I was beyond excited for.

After spending an hour taking in the sights and sounds of the art exhibit and engaging with the questions that were brought up, I went back into the city to try my hand at some long exposure photography.

While setting up my tripod and camera for this shot, I had several people come up to me and ask me if I was a photographer. As flattered as I was, I explained that I simply had a travel blog and was curating images for the blog. Satisfied with how much I was able to accomplish in one day, I found my way back to my AirBnb to get some much needed rest. Good thing daylight savings is this weekend so I can get an extra hour of sleep!

Maybe it’s because I grew up in the gloomy, rainy city of Seattle but I actually like being in the city with bad weather, because I think it makes a city honest. I feel like the rain washes away the unnecessary glamour of the city, allowing for an honest representation of the culture and people that live and work there. I enjoy the vulnerability and companionship that sometimes comes with bad weather. At the train station, people of all ages, genders, backgrounds, all gather close together under the heat lamps to stay warm. People huddle under restaurant awnings to avoid the rain, engaging in light conversation while they wait for the heavy rain to pass. The driver stopped at a crosswalk gives the pedestrian priority to cross the street, hoping the poor pedestrian finds away to escape the cold.

Besides those running in the Hot Chocolate 5K/15K race, the city was very quiet on Sunday morning. The trains were sprinkled with the hungover and the homeless, and the desolation of the trains were mirrored in the streets. The rain made the roads more reflective and the windows less so. The sound of trains rumbling by overhead somehow felt muted by the dampness on the tracks and washed out by the sound of cars splashing up the puddles on the roads. The signature smell of rain that is so familiar to me was tainted by a strange mix of musk and brick.

The fall colors lit up Millennium Park, and brought a warm feel to a somewhat gloomy day. Racers huddled underneath the bean to get instagram-worthy photos with their fellow runners, older-couples pulled out their iPad to capture a slanted and over-exposed photo of the bean and surrounding buildings, and I stood back away from the bean, appreciating all that was laid out in front of me.

I braved my way toward the water, and desperately wanted to walk along the river & lakefront to get a scenic view of the Chicago skyline, but was sadly chased away by the powerful wind and rain. While planning for this trip, I stumbled across Garfield Park Conservatory but didn’t plan it into my schedule because it seemed out of the way from all of the other places I wanted to visit. Now that my Sunday plans had to take a shift, I decided that visiting the Garfield Park Conservatory was the perfect way to escape the rain.

The conservatory had several rooms of different climates, and hundreds of plants growing in harmony to transport visitors into a different world altogether. The palm room was my favorite because the species were so unfamiliar and foreign. Being in that environment made me more excited about the possibility of someday living in a place where these plants grew naturally.

The soft moss and pungent fern room reminded me of hikes in the Pacific Northwest and brought up memories of taking off wet socks and sitting in a warm car after a rainy Washington day in the mountains. Walking among the cacti in the desert room sent me back to my 5-day summer road trip in Utah where I experienced a new level of freedom I had never believed possible.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time at the conservatory, which brought up so many pleasant memories of my past and hope and excitement for my future. I still had a couple of hours before my flight, but I was pretty tired and the weather wasn’t in my favor, so I decided to leisurely head back to the airport to bring this trip to an end.

I went on this trip to Chicago alone, but I wasn’t ever lonely. The world is a friendlier place if you open your heart to the strangers in your neighborhood. I got to connect with a lot of people on my trip to Chicago. I talked to Dre and his girlfriend at the Adams/Wabash station about uniqueness of the city of Chicago. I shared life stories with Amanda and Jessica over a cup of coffee in a quaint alley way in the heart of downtown. Patricia, an older woman and long-time resident of Chicago was impressed with my photography gear and gave me a couple secret spots for some great views. I met two writers, LaToya and Mario wandering downtown on a quiet Sunday morning. I kicked it with a group of young entrepreneurs while they took photos for the launch of their upcoming street wear line. I celebrated with my hostel-mate Liam about the new job he just accepted in Chicago.

The world is full of love. Go seek it, and go be it.

#chicago #illinois

October 17-21, 2018: Home is where I go to rest

As I sit down to write about my trip back to Seattle, I realize that the details of this trip, the things I did, the places I went all don’t matter, because I was home and home is where I go to find rest.

As I landed at the airport and began my trek to my hometown Bellevue, I felt like I could breathe easier - maybe it was the elevation, but maybe it’s because I was settling into familiarity. I know these buses, these roads, these weather patters, but most importantly I know these people. In this place, with these people is where I’m most comfortable.

I’m weary of using the world “comfortable” when describing my life, as I’ve grown to become afraid of living a comfortable life. When it comes to my faith and personal growth, I feel like comfort is the enemy. I know that life is about balancing the daily routines and the spontaneous exciting adventures, but right now I’m not in the head space to live a comfortable life.

For so much of my life, I followed the status quo. I listened to the world around me and followed along with what people told me was right and good because I was convinced that those things would bring me joy. It wasn’t until I began venturing off toward the unknown that I realized that there was so many great things I wanted to accomplish. I started to set lofty goals and I met them. I dreamed about grand travels and I made them happen. All of this made me happy, even though these things weren’t included in society’s manual about how to live a successful and happy life.

In 2017 I accomplished so much. I summited Mt. St. Helens. I went inner-tubing for my first time. I traveled to Thailand with friends. I went to San Francisco twice in three months. I went on a solo backpacking trip.

By the end of summer 2017, I was fully invested in living out my best life. I reevaluated everything, and decided that my job - being an analytical chemist for a pharmaceutical company, was not something I could see myself doing for very much longer. I couldn’t imagine committing to working for the same company and the same job for 12 years like so many people do. So, I put in my 6-week notice, used up my remaining vacation days, and just like that, I turned away from security and certainty and walked into the dark unknown world with nothing but a tiny financial security blanket and a curiosity of what lie beyond.

Many spontaneous decisions later, I find myself in Boulder Colorado with the luxury of traveling at least once a month. But again, my trips home tend to be reminders of what a life dictated by social constraint looks like. As I return 6 months later, not much has changed, or the change I’m told about is minimal. When I think back on what I’ve done in the last 6-months, it makes me wonder if I could have accomplished any of these things had I stayed in Seattle.

I’m not trying to say that Seattle isn’t a good place to live a life of adventure. In fact, I would say quite the opposite. A lifestyle of adventure isn’t constrained by geographical location, but it is dictated by your willingness to ignore the pre-defined scope that you’re given to view your city and world. When it came to my hometown, my heart was so attached to the community-centered, routine-based life I built, that trying to continue my life in Seattle with a radically different intention felt like an abandonment of the relationships I spent so many years building. Loving and serving my friends and community meant doing life together - which required a sacrifice of my time, which is the one thing I never seemed to have enough of to go and live the life I wanted. In this season of my life, I’m choosing to sacrifice the closeness of community and security of routine in order to satiate my curiosity about my neighbors, and to better understand my place in this big and confusing world.

Seattle is still my home and I want home to be a place where I rest and recuperate. I want home to be a place where I can escape the fears and stresses of life, if they come up. I want to be able to return home in order to ground myself when I begin to feel lost in the big world. My friends and community in Seattle are my safe haven. I’ve built up Seattle as a place of rest, so even when I wanted to, I wasn’t able to embrace my adventurous spirit fully in the confines of my hometown. Moving to Colorado, I’ve set myself free from the shackles of comfort - which I unknowingly placed on myself long ago.

Returning home helped me feel more at peace about this chapter of exploration. I’ve released myself from the cage of obligation and expectation, and I have finally given myself the permission to discover my truest self.

Even over a course of 5 days, I wasn’t able to see everyone I wanted, but that okay because I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll just wait long enough to let you miss me again.

October 13-14, 2018: Albu-querk-y

Two weeks ago my friend Erin told me that she was going to the hot air balloon festival with her family and that I was welcome to join them. I was hesitant to go, because it was a 7 hour drive to get to Albuquerque and unlike Erin, I couldn’t take the time off work and would only have 2 days to spend there.

The weekend was approaching and my FOMO kicked in. I knew I would regret not going, especially since I knew I would be hearing about the experience and seeing pictures from Erin, so last minute I texted her “I’m in”.

The Friday night drive was pleasant and manageable. Accompanied by a couple interesting podcasts, the drive flew by and before long it was midnight and I finally made it to Albuquerque.

I got 3 hours of sleep. It was rough, but I showed up at the Park & Ride where I would meet the Erin and the rest of her family. We hopped on the bus and arrived to a field littered with people. Soon, the pilots were given the go ahead to fire up their hot air balloons. As the first balloons (called the Dawn Patrol) began their ascension into the dark skies, people began to buzz with excitement. As the voices in the crowd grew louder, the balloons flew higher as if the collective excitement somehow pushed the hot air balloons higher into the sky.

We walked around the field and watched as hundreds of hot air balloons took to the skies. My favorite type of balloons were the plain patterned ones, although it was fun to see the creativity of some of these pilots. We saw everything from Darth Vader to a waddle of penguins, and laughed hysterically when we “saw pigs fly”.

After grabbing my third cup of coffee to keep me going, Erin invited me to join her and her family on a drive up to Sanida Crest, which is the mountain that overlooks the city of Albuquerque. The scenic drive led us to the top, where we got out and went on a short hike. On the hike, we were lucky enough to see the aspen groves light up the landscape with their fiery yellow and orange glow.

I grew up having a very specific understanding of hiking. Your destination had to be rewarding, whether it be mountain views, waterfall, a lake, etc. A hike had to have elevation gain, and required sturdy boots. You had to go to a destination where you didn’t have cell service and couldn’t see or hear vehicles going by. And most hikes were tree covered.

It wasn’t until moving to Colorado that I realized that hiking is much broader than I originally thought. I’ve been on some incredibly challenging hikes that were 100% desert. I’ve been on a hikes that were flat but led to a unique destination. And since moving to Colorado, I’ve done most of my hiking in my Chacos.

So we went on a short hike, through a dry, grassy area with a scattering of yellow aspens. It was a breezy fall day, the sun was out but we were chilly, and I didn’t have the right shoes on. Nevertheless, the Leverence family and I had a good amount of laughs and photo ops.

After our hike, we went our separate ways, and Erin and I planned to meet up the next day. I was starving so I found a restaurant in downtown Albuquerque and loaded up on my nutrients. When I’m on vacation, I tend to have fewer food options and end up eating not so healthy foods. Since I was traveling on my own this time and didn’t have anyone else to worry about, I picked a restaurant that would be suitable for my diet and I couldn’t have been happier with the meal I had.

Feeling fueled and nourished, I continued on to explore a place called “Old Albuquerque” - original, I know. It was a lively block centered around a gazebo in a courtyard. When I arrived, I heard Native American chanting coming from the courtyard which set the mood of the town.

I found a coffee shop to grab another coffee and walked around the markets and peering into restaurants to soak in the atmosphere of this culturally preserved square. Traditional Native American jewelry, home goods, and knick nacks were sold in shops lining the square, and without finding anything I wanted for myself, I went my merry way.

Although I had been pushing off sleep all day and my body desperately wanted to rest, I wasn’t ready to give up my precious time. I decided to head back to the hot air balloon festival to be awed once more.

This time I went alone, which awarded me the time to focus on the people attending the festival rather then the balloons themselves. I was drawn into the different kinds of people and was excited about trying to capture the feeling through other people’s experiences. It was fun to try to speculate on the relationships between strangers and create plausible scenarios in my head about their life stories.

On the ride back to my car, I sat next to an older lady who spent the evening enjoying the hot air balloons with her grand kids. She was really chatty and asked me about where I’m from, and how my time in Albuquerque had been. We were quick to exhaust the small talk and still had a long ride ahead. She mentioned that her and her grand kids went to the “Performance of the Indians”, to which I cringed. I was prepared to correct her, but didn’t want to introduce the possibility of an argument on a bus full of happy people.

I still felt like I needed to correct her usage of the name “Indians” because she clearly meant “Native Americans” but having grown up in New Mexico, didn’t have the same kind of education as me when it comes to political correctness. So instead of correcting her and making her feel guilty for her incorrect use of titles, I decided to repeat back to her that I too enjoyed the “Traditional Native American Dance” and the way people in New Mexico are excited about celebrating the Native American culture.

After this our conversation about cultural influence continued, and she began using the correct term for the rest of our conversation. I was pretty excited about that.

On Sunday morning, I met up with Erin at Meow Wolf - an interactive art installation in Santa Fe. I had heard about this experience through some Denver friends and was told that visiting was a must. Without much expectation, Erin and I walked in and explored the whimsical and mysterious exhibit.

Basically, you walk into this art installation and the people at the front desk tell you to read everything, to touch everything, and engage fully with the installation to understand what’s going on. So we walk through the exhibit, looking in all direction and noticing all of the details of the whimsical and creative rooms.

This installation was unlike I have ever experienced, and made me envious of creatives who are able to express their curiosity, emotions, and stories with the world through their art. I’m still learning about the creative process and how to express my thoughts and emotions through art, and was inspired to continue my creative journey to see where it takes me.

We had so much more we wanted to do in New Mexico, but it was getting late and we had to get back. Unfortunately, it had snowed all along the front range and I was worried about driving back. Erin and I got into our cars and began the long drive home.

On the way home, I thought about friendships and how they change. A year ago, I didn’t know that Erin existed. There were parts of my life that no one understood or could relate with. My anxious desire to travel and explore is something that I share with Erin. I haven’t met anyone else that understands this part of me the way she does, and I’m so thankful for that.

Life will continue to surprise us with new revelations, desires and struggles. But God will continue to provide with people to help us through those trials, to relate in those desires and to share the revelations.

#albuquerque #newmexico #hot air ballon festival #hot air balloon #meow wolf #meowwolf #santafe #santa fe

September 26, 2018: Paris Day 5

Today was my last full day in Paris, and there were still a couple places I wanted to visit - one was a small backstreet of Paris with a artistic view of the Eiffel Tower. We found a corner cafe and sipped on some coffee while watching the people go by. While my mom was on the phone with the credit card company, my dad and I had a chance to catch up and have a heart-to-heart about some of our frustrations and struggles in life.

In recent years my dad came back to faith, and since then it's been a blessing to see him learn about God, himself, the people around him. A heart that had once been rigid to change was beginning to soften through a relationship with Christ. A wounded heart was being mended by the love of God. Hearing about the ways my dad is hurting and how he’s exploring avenues to heal and mend those broken relationships was evidence to me that God is real and can work miracles.

As the rose higher in the sky, illuminating the once dark street, we decided to move on to our next destination. My mom was looking to get a pair of sneakers due to her sore feet from all the walking we were doing, so we went back to Galeria Lafayette so she could go around the stores and do a little shopping. My dad had yet to see the ornate dome in the shopping mall so we went our separate ways. The rooftop of the shopping mall was a popular viewing point for the Paris Skyline so we decided to wait for my mom up there.

Unfortunately, my mom wasn’t able to find a pair of shoes that she wanted so we continued on to our next destination. We wanted to grab some lunch so we headed toward Place des Vosges, since we were very happy with the food we had there a couple of days ago.

On the way there, I was looking at the metro map and I realized that there was a stop for Palace Royale - one of the other places I wanted to visit. We got off at the Palace Royale stop and walked over to a unique courtyard filled with black and white columns and column stumps. I didn’t realize until we got there that my outfit happened to match the columns perfectly.

We went back to Place of Vosges for a late lunch/dinner. Ironically, we went to the restaurant that was directly across the street from the restaurant that my mom and I shred a bottle of wine several days before.

After a nice meal and some more wine, we hopped on the train and headed toward Saint Germain, where our boat tour would be taking off. We were interested in getting a unique perspective of the city and were encouraged to take a boat tour to get some interesting stories about the history of Paris.

The most interesting information we got about the city of Paris was the history of all of the different bridges. Each bridge that ties the North and South segments of the city had functional, political, or ironic/satirical purpose. It was a great time to laugh with our fellow passengers as we learned a

We only had a couple of hours left in the day before we had to go our separate ways so my mom spoke up and said she wanted to visit the Luxenbourg Gardens and Palace. The sun was setting, the temperature was comfortable, and people were scattered around the gardens chatting with friends, reading, studying, more or less enjoying the evening. The reality that my time in Paris coming to an end was slowly sinking in, but surprisingly was ready to go back home.

Having visited the same place several times made me feel like I’d done most everything I wanted to do here. Of course, there is so much more to discover and so much more to Paris then I’ve experienced, but for now I was pretty satisfied.

That’s the thing about travel. There’s always a feeling that you missed something. A feeling that there’s more that you still haven’t seen or discovered. That feeling only grows with the more places you travel to. But as a avid traveler, it’s my challenge to allow that curiosity linger, and to allow it to fuel me on my next journey. I think the biggest mistake is to over explore a destination and exhaust all curiosity and interest of that place.

So here’s to my next adventure. Maybe I’ll be back to Paris, but maybe not. And that mystery is what makes travel so much fun.

Au Revoir!

#paris #france #placedesvosges #eiffeltower #luxenbourggarden #palaceroyale

September 25, 2018: Paris Day 4

My dad was scheduled to arrive at around 10am in the morning so we decided to take it easy while we waited for him to get to the hostel. He had been contemplating whether to join us because he had a last minute dental emergency and wanted to calculate the risk before making a rash decision.

I was so glad that my dad was able to join us. My relationship with my dad has also been growing stronger as we’ve been more open about our thoughts on life. In fact, a conversation I had with my dad over a year ago had shaped me and inspired me to live the adventurous life that I do now.

I was just beginning to go on weekend hiking trips in Seattle and posted some of my photos on social media. When I visited my parents one weekend, out of the blue my dad said to me “It’s so good to see you going out and having fun with your life. Growing up I was too focused on my career and didn’t take the opportunity to go out and enjoy my life. So I’m just beginning to do that now at xx years old.” I wasn’t ready to say the same thing to my children when I was xx years old so that honest conversation with my dad inspired me to live every day to the fullest.

Not surprisingly, my very punctual dad arrived right at 10am and after putting down his luggage and getting changed, we headed out for our day’s adventure.

Even though it’s the most typical tourist thing to do and we tend to avoid tourist destinations as much as possible, I was determined to go to the Eiffel Tower and try my hand at snapping some artsy pictures.

Our plan for the morning was to hit all of the touristy spots since they were all so close to one another. We took the train to Arc de Triomphe and walked along the Elysees Avenue to get the famous distant view of the Arc de Triomphe.

We then continued along the river toward the Louve. It was a Tuesday so the Louve wasn’t open to the public which was the perfect time to go since there wouldn’t be too many people around. We weren’t interested in visiting the museum, but I wanted to see the glass pyramids and see the courtyard that housed the world-famous museum.

We were incredibly hungry by this point in the day so we headed straight toward Latin Quarter, somewhere we knew was guaranteed to have a wide selection of cuisines. Within 15 minutes, we were walking the streets of Latin Quarter looking for a place to satisfy our stomachs.

After a quick and filling lunch, we headed due north toward the river and back toward Notre Dame. My dad had yet to see the extravagant cathedral, so we were glad to head back in that direction. We noticed that there weren’t very many people waiting in line, so we decided to take a peek inside. Once seated inside, the pasta induced food coma set in and my parents both fell asleep on either side of me. Luckily while they rested their eyes and feet, I moved forward to the front of the hall, only to realize that a catholic mass was beginning.

I couldn’t help but reflect and realize how disconnected I felt while foreign words in monotone voices echoed through the procession hall. Even though the room was filled with people moving about, the room felt empty and solemn. Strange to be experience so far from God in a place of worship.

After leaving, we didn't have anywhere in particular we wanted to go so we began to wander. There are two islands that sit in the middle of the Seine river that cuts through Paris, so we decided to wander the streets of those islands.

There wasn't much to do or see, but walking these streets brought me a level of peace that I hadn't on this trip yet. The quietness of the neighborhood made it feel like I was walking through a still-life painting.

We eventually worked out way back to the nearest metro stop and began our trip back to our hostel. Satisfied with how much we fit into one day, I quickly fell asleep.

September 24, 2018: Paris Day 3

We began the morning wandering the streets of the Saint Germain neighborhood looking for a place to have some coffee. So far on this trip, my mom and I have been pretty fast-paced with our adventures and had yet to leisurely enjoy coffee on a street-side cafe, so I took this opportunity to slow down our excited spirits over a nice cup of coffee.

Side by side with our backs against the glass, we sat in silence, sipped on our coffee and watched people go by. With each person that walked by, my heart filled with curiosity as I wondered about each of their stories, burdens, and passions. One man looked like he was going to work, carrying a leather briefcase, probably filled with important documents and a laptop. A young girl - probably about 8 years old, and her mother were walking hand-in-hand, and I imagined these were some of the last days the little girl would be willing to hold her mom’s hand without a fight. A college age guy looked as though he didn’t get enough sleep and his shoulders appeared to be weighed down by more than just his book bag.

Soon enough, our coffee cups were empty and we were getting antsy about the day’s adventure. We On our way toward the famous restaurant-filled street of Latin Quarter, but were stopped on the way by a sweet voice singing a familiar tune. We stopped in the middle of the square to listen to a very handsome man sing Gravity by John Mayer with a faint french accent.

Crossing the street we made our way to the lively streets of Latin Quarter. We weren’t hungry enough for a meal, so we carefully maneuvered through the bustling street without being drawn into any of the restaurants by the eager hosts.

The madness of tourists only grew as we approached the Notre Dame Cathedral. The distant view of the cathedral was breathtaking enough - the watchtowers standing powerfully on either side of the large entrance to protect the sacred house of God from unwanted visitors, the river flowing far below the cross as if bowing down to the majesty of the stone structure. As we drew near, the artfully design of the building became more apparent. The oblong arches were craftily adorned with symbolic symbols and characters and the gaze of the terrifying gargoyles never seemed to break.

It was nearing noon and we were ready for lunch. We were only a couple blocks from the much anticipated Place des Vosges, so with only a few stops to snap a couple photos, we made our way to find a restaurant to eat at. I was instantly drawn to the aesthetics of a restaurant that adopted a white and gold color palette and made the executive decision that we would be eating there.

Scanning the menu, we came across a plate of escargot and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try something new. We were pleasantly surprised with how delicious the snails tasted and were excited for the remaining dishes. For lunch we shared a salmon appetizer, a pasta entree, a salmon entree, a chocolate mousse dessert, and a bottle of red wine from Bordeaux.

I’ve always felt that the finishing off a bottle of red wine with my mom would be a momentous occasion, a right of passage of sorts. There’s a level of commitment and closeness required to share a bottle of wine with someone. As with any alcoholic drink, conversations tend to be more honest and open, and since a bottle of wine is equivalent to six glasses, there’s no rushing through conversation.

My mom and I haven’t always had a close relationship, but as I’ve grown older and become more self-aware, I’ve recognized the ways that I’m a lot like my mom. As we spend more time together, we’ve learned to open up more to one another and share our lives with each other. Sharing a bottle of wine with her over lunch was a sweet way to get to know her and share our thoughts about life.

I was feeling pretty full and buzzed by the end of our 2-hour lunch so we began toward our next destination - the most colorful street in Paris. I saw this image on someone’s travel blog and was determined to stop by for a visit.

This place was an Instagramer’s paradise, and definitely not well known to tourists. My favorite house was the bright pink one, which was decorated with some porch plants and a well placed bicycle.

We were still feeling pretty jet lagged so we decided to head back to the hostel to rest up. We overslept our alarms and when we woke up, it was already dark.

It was too early to go to bed and too late to go far, so we decided to get a proper night view of the Eiffel Tower. After some googling, we found that the Tower Montparnasse was a popular viewpoint of the Eiffel Tower and surrounding city. Within 10 minutes of arriving to the rooftop of the tallest building in Paris, we got to see the Eiffel Tower sparkle.

I laid in bed and reflected back on the day, and gave thanks to God for another precious day with my sweet mom.

#paris #france #saintgermain #notredame #eiffeltower

September 23, 2018: Paris Day 2

My mom was really excited about taking me to the Palace of Versailles. She visited the palace with her friends a couple months ago, but wanted to take me to see the extravagant palace that Marie Antoinette called home in the 1700s. We took an hour long train ride to the town of Versailles, getting a double-decker view of the French countryside. I was expecting Versailles to be similar to Paris, with narrow streets crowded with people, cafes and restaurants on every corner, and metro stations every couple of blocks. Of course, having not done my research about Versailles, I was very wrong.

There were a couple narrow streets and beautifully old an ornate buildings, but they weren’t bustling with people. There weren’t busy cafes and restaurants on every corner, and definitely no metro stations. Versailles was a quiet town that felt like it had been abandoned centuries ago. The only thing kicking up the dust in this town were the tourists visiting the famous palace that once housed the royal family.

We glided through each of the rooms in the palace, stopping at each one to listen to our audio guidebooks and learn about the purpose and history of that room. After making our way through the public wings of the palace, we made our way to the garden. A beautifully ornate fountain sat in the middle of the path in between the palace and the immaculate lawn. Once we reached the edge of the lawn, we noticed the fatigue in our legs and the incoming of dark storm clouds, so we snapped a couple of photos and made our way back to the station to head back to the big city.

When we got to the train station in Versailles, we were met with crowds of people in short shorts and tanks, and we realized that a marathon had just concluded and many of the runners were heading back into Paris. After enduring the 1 hour train ride surrounded by sweaty and smelly passengers, we were glad to deboard.

It was a little past 1pm and we were getting restlessly hungry, so we decided to scout out a place for lunch. Although many of the tourist maps guided us to an area called "Latin Quarter" for the best restaurants, our kind hotel staff instructed us to go to "Place des Vosges" instead for more a more authentic Parisian experience. We took the train to the nearest metro stop and began to walk toward Place des Vosges but stopped out of curiosity for what appeared to be a market in the street. We were drawn in by the smells of freshly baked bread and pastas, and stayed so we could get a little taste of all the different dishes available.

The rain came suddenly, so we retreated back to the hostel for another mid-day nap. When we woke up 2 hours later, we grabbed our bags, strapped on our shoes, and went North to explore the art district. My mom found a guidebook that laid out a path to walk to explore the art district of Paris. It began at “the love mural”, which we unfortunately couldn’t get to because the park had closed early on this weekend. We continued walking along this path that took us down the residential streets of Paris and before I knew it, I was falling in love with the city.

I never understood what it meant when people would refer to Paris as the city of romance. But walking through these side streets of Paris, I finally realized what that meant. It’s almost impossible to describe, but walking around the city of Paris made me want to be in love.

There’s something about the ambiance. The slow pace of life, the beautifully decorated balconies, and the aesthetic design of shops and restaurants. It’s as if the whole city was designed for intimacy and love, from the placement of chairs in the cafes, forcing lovers to be close to one another, to the narrowness of the sidewalks encouraging intimacy with each stride.

We continued on the art walk path as laid out in the guidebook, and stumbled on the Moulin Rouge cabaret. The bright red windmill was gloriously decorated on top of the building and was lit up with red LED lights. Looking at Google Maps, I found another windmill so we decided to wander in that direction.

The windmill was at the top of a hill in a quiet, romantic neighborhood. The street was laid out in stone and the sidewalks were lined with warm glowing lamp posts. The windmill sat on top of a dimly lit restaurant on the corner of the street, filled with lovers and friends.

We continued to the town of Montmartre to visit the famous cathedral Sacré-Cœur. As we reached the top of the hill where the cathedral stood, darkeness was closing in, the lights of the city spread across the ground like the scar of a lightning bolt. As the temperature dropped and hunger settled in, we began our journey back downhill to the nearest metro station. Most restaurants were closed at this time of night so we stopped into a bakery next to the train station, grabbed a baguette and pastries, and went back to the hostel to rest.

I went to bed wondering if I wasn’t able to describe the intimate and romantic feeling of Paris because I’ve never truly been in love. With a mind full of thoughts and a heart full of hope, I fell asleep.

#paris #france #montmartre #moulinrouge #sacrecoeur #versailles #palace of versailles

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