As I sit in my Hammock in Fuerteventura, Spain I am perplexed by how quickly time flies; it’s hard to believe it has been over five years since my last entry on Hole In My Suitcase. I still remember overlooking beautiful sunsets and landscapes both abroad and in Canada with my laptop, typing all my joys and sorrows with a hot cup of coffee or a beer in hand. The therapy writing provided me during my difficult season of loss was unparalleled to any healing I could have received in a doctor’s chair. It is a sweet joy to come back to writing in this place, in this beauty, in this mystery of what will be next?
“Time heals.” Those two words I once resented, how true they have become. Both a tragic and sweet reality. As the years have gone by the grief subdued in waterfalls, the ocean, the mundane life of cubicles and the chaos of moving up a corporate ladder in the hustle and bustle of a blossoming career. I found my balance somewhere along the way, no longer needing to remind myself to carry forward but instead reminding myself to make time for reflection.
To the inexperienced the term “Time Heals” is the simplest term to understand, but for those of us who have walked or are walking through the dark tunnel of grief, who have either made it through or are starting to see the light, we know that nobody will come out the other side unscathed. I still crawl back into my tunnel from time to time to reflect on my beautiful daughter Kiya, who left this earth too soon almost nine years ago. And sometimes I return to the darkness to remember my dad who tragically died in an airplane accident two years after Kiya. So while I agree that time heals, the absolute truth is that as time transforms, loss transforms and the griever transforms. Here I am refined, shaped and intricately transformed by the depths of life.
Last year I turned 30, and my life dramatically changed, and this time it was beautiful because although I was experiencing deep emotions, it was because of average problems and not because somebody I loved had died. Within a couple of months of the big 3-0, I found myself unemployed, single, and living in my moms basement yet again. I wept and wept, and I basked in the tears because finally I was weeping about circumstances I had the power to change.
And so, Hole In My Suitcase has been reborn. I hope to uplift, encourage, and motivate others who might be wondering “What’s next?” In their own lives. I want to document my story, my grand adventure, and how I found the courage to live the life I dreamt of living- from home or abroad. I am excited to tell the stories of how I got to where I am today, the choices and the lifestyle changes I have made. In the past 12 months I have been in 11 countries; big adventures on a small budget. I have decided to graduate my leather bound journal for the therapeutic sound of my fingertips on the keyboard once again. If you feel inclined please join me on my journey as I document my adventures and gratitude for the time to heal and the power to choose New Beginnings…once again.