Dreaming BIG of One Year Abroad
My eyes were opened during my Freshman year of high school, in French class. That was probably the first time I really understood there existed a great big world outside of me, outside of my small school and humble church existence, outside of the United States. I began to realize there was so much more to see, to taste, to experience.
The following year I took French II and my love of France, and of Europe deepened. Sure, I learned a few phrases in this foreign language of choice, but what I learned most was how tiny I was in comparison to the whole of the world — and I learned how much I didn’t know yet. I wanted to know more.
My Junior year, I took a humanities class as an elective, along with an art history course, and fell absolutely in love with art and artists and their personal stories. I began to wish fervently that I could see with my own eyes these works, created by passionate humans, often living during tumultuous times, began to feel stirrings of my own passions, my own interests in the political and social landscapes in which I found myself in. I began to look outside of my textbooks at differences to be found in other lands, other cultures, other people — and I craved more.
It was was my birth, the birth of what makes me, Me. A deeply embedded seed took root in those formative years, and over time, the bright green shoots of that seed fought for light and water, growing steadily year by year into something I have never quite been able to articulate: the absolute need to suck the marrow out of life, to experience not just more, but all of it.
Homeschooling our daughters, working in two separate library systems, teaching myself photography, and ultimately becoming a travel agent — it was all part of my search to fulfill my overwhelming, soul-defining purpose. This purpose is there, in every action, every thought, every inch of growth I’ve experienced over the last thirty years. It’s formed and informed who I am. It’s as much a part of me as the air in my lungs and the heart beating in my chest.
Here I am now, on the cusp of my 50th birthday (just 18 months away) and Toph is seriously eyeing his retirement in the next 5-10 years. We are closer than ever to what I have dreamed of for decades: a year of living abroad.
Today I began to piece together a plethora of Post-its and side notes and thought remnants into one cohesive (and alphabetical by country, city/region/county, and attraction/experience) document.
It’s exciting to start seeing it all come together!
The plan? I’m soo glad you asked.
Toph and I can spend 90 days (in a 180-day timeframe) in the Schengen Union (what we refer to collectively as “Europe”); 90 days in Ireland (which is not part of the Schengen), and the United Kingdom (thank you Brexit!) for another 180 days. That’s a total of 12 months of pure, unadulterated European adventure — and I plan to revel in every second.
Toph and I are compiling a master list of festivals that sound intriguing, locales that make us drool, and (of course) foods we want to try in their native regions. It’s way more than we can do in a year, actually — but that just means we can always go back for another year, and another!
I feel ALIVE plotting and planning all of this out. Truly and veritably alive, like the best version of myself. It’s incredible to finally be here, expressing my life’s passion, and actually embarking on the beginning stages of making my dreams a reality.
But golly, there’s so much to do before it happens. And I plan to include you, dear reader, in all the magical details. Stay tuned as we “dream aloud” — and make our dreams come true!
