I don’t want to travel anymore.  I just want to be home.

A series of events have unfolded at warp speed over the past few years. Starting in 2004 when I got struck by a taxi and broke my leg, I turned my life of stressful routine into a life of adventure, accumulating dreams and fulfilling them with an aggressive enthusiasm. I’ve taken my happiness seriously when it should have been taken with lightness. I have made life’s leisures into a life. But I don’t want it anymore. I’ve proven you can make travel your life and, to myself, I have proven that it can be just as lonely as it can be fulfilling. And right now, I’m exhausted.

I’ve overcome hardships with as strong a positive attitude as possible, wondering when I would hit rock bottom. It never happened. I just kept going – floating for fear of drowning, or “rolling with the punches” as one friend put it. Before Jet Set Zero came along I had already let my stubborn enthusiasm 1) guide me to Europe, 2) volunteer in Kenya and become embedded in rural Kenyan politics, 3) produce my documentary A Chance for Peace (with zero prior experience) immediately following Kenya’s post-election violence, and lastly, it was all topped off with my apartment burning down rendering me homeless and broke as I struggled to finished school. Why am I tell you all this? Because I could pretend that this life of travel is all sunshine and freedom, but it isn’t. The reality – since that is what we are here to share – is that it is also extremely taxing and I don’t want to keep it up anymore for me or for anyone. If anything it is a job I love, not the entirety of a life I want to live. Not for me. Not anymore. There but be a balance.

I’m so thankful for Jet Set Zero and for everyone I’ve met along the way since I first started walking again after breaking my leg those years ago. I’m eager to carry out all the mental, emotional, and spiritual acrobatics I have tumbled through, but I can’t do that in flight. I need roots. I’ve been uplifted by so many experiences and have been empowered to continue traveling as I see so many people becoming inspired by my trips. More will come, undoubtedly, but for now I have to stop.

Today I write you still stuck in India and I don’t know how and when I will be home. I consider my stay here one last lesson that’s telling me its time to go back to California and build my home and life. Again. Hopefully this one wont burn down like the last one. The night I watched it all burn I said to myself, “Destruction gives way to creation.” It’s time to lay the foundation. I can worry about adventure – and appreciate it more – once my roots are firmly planted.

Happy holidays, ladies and vagabonds. See ya when I see ya. It’s been hella real.

PS: I’m working hard to get onwards and upwards, but if anyone would like to make an offering of Frequent Flier Miles in exchange for some grade-A karma, I would not object. So holler. Peace and love, y’all.

I’m not sure this is what I wanted.  After what was one of the hardest days of my life and a good two days of traveling, I finally reached my home town of Calhoun, Louisiana. As I am typing this blog, I will admit that the tears are steadily running down my face. Two days ago, I left Chiang Mai, Thailand for home. What hurt the most was saying goodbye to my amazing friends. Over the past four months I really grew to love those guys. I created a bond with them, a bond like I never had before. It kills me to leave that behind. This friendship just ignites the fire inside of me to keep going on. I made a promise to my friends that I would be back in June and we will pick up where we left off! My word is as good as gold! I love you guys.

We’re moving out in the next couple days. Some will stay, some will go, but one thing that we all agree on is that Thai Mom and Dad have been amazing. On day one at this house, before we even paid or said we would move in, Dad gave me the keys and said, “You’re family now. You are like our children.” Mom raised her eyebrows and nodded with that smile that seems to never fade.

I knew that leaving this house would be tough. It’s not even the house, it’s them. It’s our neighbor, it’s the mechanics down the street that we smile at every morning we head out on our motorbikes – also the same guys that wrangled me in with Bogdan, one of our cameramen, for some whiskey tonight on our way to the market. It’s the endless smiles and Mom serving us homemade food on our patio and staying around to speak to us, even though we still speak hardly any Thai. Mom and Dad knew it would be tough, too. So Mom – speaking to me almost entirely in Thai – let me know that she planned a picnic for us. She said she would plan everything and knock on our doors to wake us up for a 9am departure. So Michael, Bogdan, and I went for it.

I didnt have the heart to tell Mom or Dad that I had already been to a floating lakehouse, but this one didnt include a private motorboat tug of the entire lakehouse out into the water from the shore, nor did it include Mom’s amazing food, or all the love. Walking across the wooden planks from the shore to the lakehouse, we were a family, all carrying food in bags and tupperware, with a Thai Mom making sure we were protected from the sun, a Thai Dad humbly making his way behind her, in front of a German, tailed by two Americans, one raise in Mexico and the other born in Ukraine. (Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt aint got shit on us.)

Before leaving Dad told us that he and his family hadn’t been there for about 20 years. This wasn’t something they did for just anyone. (Fun side note: Mom took all the cushions from their sofa and some blankets and totally turned the bed of their truck into a crash pad for us for the 2 hours drive there under the Thai blue sky, through rice fields, markets, huge temples and reclining Buddha’s, and breath-taking mountains. Something tells me she doesn’t dismantle her furniture for just anyone, either.) But as she and Dad have made clear, we are her Sons.

You can choose whichever language you desire to say it, but that’s love.

The first day in Thailand. Looking back is so crazy. We have come a long way!

Yesterday was the hardest day I have had in Thailand so far, and I’ve had some pretty rough days here.  I’ve spent almost 36 hours without food and it still has nothing on yesterday. Last night one of our cast mates loaded on a jet and headed back to her life in New York City. Evita was an awesome travel companion, and what made it so tough to watch her leave was that we had become so close over the last couple of weeks. The night before her departure we lived it up, we stayed out until three in the morning drinking and having a good time bonding. The house has definitely gotten a lot quieter since she has been gone, and NO thats not a good thing, I miss her laugh! She was my sanity here. She was like my mother figure, I could vent to her when I needed to and she would take it all in and give me that extra boost I needed. She is a genuine loyal person and has one of the biggest hearts I have ever encountered. I learned so much from her in such a short period of time, and for that I am thankful. So… Dear Evita, if you read this, I am so honored that I got the chance to meet you. I can honestly say that you have made your mark in my life. I know that I will leave this experience with a true friend. And to be honest with you, I never knew what that was until now. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done. I love you!

Leaving your life behind is such a liberating experience, but as my new friend Evita would say, “it is a double-edge sword”.  Being the youngest and most inexperienced of the group, it was definitely challenging to say goodbye to the ones I loved. I have never been away from home for longer than two weeks, so this has been a major growing experience. I am blessed to say though, this experience has a way of making you face your fears. I have come a long way in just a month and I look forward to seeing my transformation after everything is said and done.

When you have lived somewhere for four years it’s emotionally draining to say good-bye to friends and logistically exasperating to transport your life elsewhere.  But between canceling your cable service and buying International traveler’s insurance, make sure you enjoy your time in the US as much as possible before you go!  Five tips:

1.  Make a Bucket List

• I made a Google doc of all the things I had always wanted to do in New York but hadn’t made time for yet.  My friends went in and added their names next to activities they wanted to join me for so I got to see my friends and try new things!
• My list ranged from seeing a Broadway show (“Rock of Ages” to be specific. I’m still singing Here I Go Again and smiling to myself) to trekking to Harlem for the infamous Dinosaur BBQ (overrated!) to seeing my rockstar friend Sean Bradford perform his own show at Joe’s Pub (only in NY!)

2. Enlist men to help you move

• Perrin and I both had strong men load our stuff into SUVs and vans.  We’re no damsels in distress but mattresses are really heavy!
• I live on a six floor walk up with tight turns on the stairway.  Since I didn’t document my own move I’m sharing this strikingly similar experience from “Friends.” PIVOT!

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