a call to wander

Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you.

I have been wandering farther and farther from my home in the past ten years. I have experienced the breath-snatching cold of a prairie winter and the lung-crushing humidity of a Toronto summer. I have hiked through coastal rainforest, scaled the hills of the badlands, and been drenched in the mist of a maassive waterfall. I have even fought my way through a blizzard in order to procure roast chicken and sushi.

Then, just when I was coming to embrace my journeys across Canada and increasing Candian-ness (namely an endurance for sub-zero temperatures and a love of beer + hockey) my boyfriend proposed, got into a PhD program at Cambridge, and was moving to England. And before I had time to process all this, I found myself with a shiny UK work visa, two over-stuffed suitcases, and a one-way plane ticket across the pond.

My first year abroad was more wonderful than I ever imagined. I had loads of adventures, embraced the Oxbridge lifestyle as much as I could through my fiancé, and even got in a bit of travel (mostly to London). Balls, formals, garden parties, pub nights, museums, galleries, plays...

But as amazing as living in a new country is, I had a wedding to plan and it was that even which consumed most of my resources and vacation time. Now I am happily married and ready to start exploring this wide world with my dearest friend. If the past has taught us anything it’s that we don’t know where we’re going to be called to go next. Until that day when our journey ends we’ll keep on walking, having adventures and enriching our lives through new experiences.