When we are coaching clients we explore core values pretty much right out of the gate. My friend and colleague, Chip, and I used to talk about this quite a bit. When our core values are out of alignment with the life we are living we will never settle into our lives or grow.

As I have been watching myself and noticing what I am noticing as we make the living transition from one America to another, I see that when I am on the worst footing, too many of my values are not being met. Community, belonging, safety, meaningful work, education and learning.

I have had to allow a dismantling of my previous life and not cling to what I no longer have. I am not a victim where life is happening to me, I am the captain of my ship!

What seems like a lifetime ago since I left Montrose, has only been one week. Over the course of one week I have made some amazing connections and am building a new community. Yesterday, for example, we literally ran into a woman on the street who moved here from the Vale area on Colorado. Amy. New contact.

Rudolpho, the proprietor of the Sea Garden House, is so excited for us to move here. “You are now my neighbor AND friend!” That made me happy. As we were chatting over coffee, his friend Ruth wandered in. She lives in a lovely community and her friend, Fanny, has a house that was open for rent as of yesterday. So, out we went, and it will be our new home. Fanny has invited us for wine and a soak in her hot tub. She’s my kind of neighbor. My friend, Ann, will send a driver for us tomorrow to take us to navigate opening a bank account, new phone account, and shopping at the Supermaxi. We will join her for dinner Thursday. Ruth and Fanny have cottage industries making bread, yogurt, etc. I plan to join them with my world famous granola recipes. I will also be launching my coaching program again (but not too soon) and that feels so energizing.

At the Sea Garden House, there are BOOKS, and at least 5 of them are on my reading list. So great.

All that to say, as my core values are now being met, I am welcoming creativity and opportunity in a new way.

Also, I just sent my laundry away with a young man on a scooter. I sure I hope I get all of that back.

My very adult children use the term sketchy a lot. It means that something just isn’t right. Often times it’s a feeling, like something feels a bit off. When one is new to a culture almost everything feels strange and alien, but sketchy hints at danger. Not overt danger that is definitely to be avoided, but more like potential danger.

From a males point of view, I see sketchy everywhere is Ecuador. Many of electrical wiring practices would never, ever pass building codes in the U.S. Exposed wires, over loaded sockets, rusty breakers, it’s a wonder anything works. Transportation is a huge sketchy topic. From a delivery truck with the gas tank “secured” using rope to unmarked sink holes in city streets, roads filled with buses, bicycles, motorcycles and taxis all performing an incoherent dance of death as they race to their destinations. Sketchy is everywhere in food service in Ecuador. The 4 dead chickens hanging from the handlebars of the bicycle going by might end up on your plate that night, or next week.

My daughter has travelled quite a extensively. Months long trips to Thailand, Uganda, Ethiopia France and Mexico give her much more perspective on sketchy, but from a female prospective.

When I asked her to rate Ecuador on a sketchy scale she rated it as very low sketch. I was floored! When I urged her to please explain this is what she said…”everyone we have met, native or expat has been extremely friendly and helpful. Anne [a senior citizen expat] walks down the streets of Manglaralto after dark as she gave us a tour of the town. We walked by groups of men young and old without one leering, creepy cat call. No one has come up to us begging for food or money…it’s barely sketchy at all.”

I was struck with an epiphany! From a males perspective sketchy is all about the physical world. What could go wrong on a mechanical, electrical or political level. From a female perspective sketchy is all about a very personal safety. “Am I physically safe in this place, at this time?” There is so much to be learned by exploring our feelings of safety and security. When do I feel threatened? How much risk am I willing to take? How could things go wrong balanced with the potential for novelty and adventure ?

For Christians around the world Passion week, the week before Easter Sunday is a time to reflect on what it means to be a follower of Christ. Each day is a step toward the death of Christ (Good Friday) and the rising of Christ on Easter Sunday. Though it’s been a few decades since I have been a practicing Catholic I can still remember going to church every night during Passion Week.

We lived a different kind of Passion Week at our house this year. Each day was a step toward our move to Ecuador. On Monday we assessed our belongings left after the garage sale the previous Saturday. With Karen no longer employed she dug deep into taking clothes to the Goodwill. After training my morning clients at the gym I sorted to more unsold sporting goods, letting go of some fly fishing equipment that I had been packing around for decades.

On Tuesday we prepared for the FREE garage sale on Wednesday. Filming and editing a silly promotional video had us at our silly best as we moved more housewares to to the sale tables in the garage. Wednesday was a whirlwind of activity as we opened the garage door and 3p to a crowd of thrifty shoppers claiming anything they wanted at no charge. It was a joy to see the smiling faces taking needed housewares, but also a bit heartbreaking to see the tools of our lives being hauled away for free. Thursday 3 loads of belonging went to the Goodwill. Everything we brought to Ecuador must fit into 6 suitcases so it was time for more difficult decisions. Do we bring beach towels or a down jacket? A bluetooth speaker or a favorite frying pan? On Good Friday we started in the back of the house and moved STUFF progressively to the front of the house. Possessions started to be packed in suitcases.

Saturday I sold my Toyota pickup to a fella that left a deposit two weeks previous. I was happy to see it go actually. I spent dozens of hours doing repairs on that truck and to be truly reliable it needed quite a few more.

Easter Sunday was spent sleeping in and resting and telephoning friends and family as we always do. It was important to log as many hours of sleep as possible since we knew that it would be a long week of travel uncertainty ahead.

Monday the last loads of books were donated to the library and a few more loads went to the Goodwill. The final squishing of items into suitcases was underway! We hauled six very heavy suitcases to the Holiday Inn Express and caught a ride back to our house to sell our beds. By 6:30 pm all our possessions fit into just six suitcases!

Our dear friend Gary picked us up at 5:45a on Tuesday for an exhausting 17 hours of travel from Montrose to Denver to Houston to Panama City to Guayaquil.

The AirB&B site described the residence as dripping with luxury amenities. Lots of air conditioning, beautiful gardens, nicely decorated, even free use of snorkeling equipment, towels and an umbrella.

One quickly learns that there is a big difference between American standards and second world standards.

We arrived to find a rather run down old house in a very quiet fishing village on the coast of Ecuador. The curtains were filthy, the walls streaked with a messy stain that was once applied to the hand rail, no hot water and only two wall mounted A/C units. Karen was severely disappointed since she envisioned spending the week with our daughter, Maddie in the lap of latin luxury. Instead she was sobbing with disappointment and exhaustion.

That night Karen and Maddie were plotting how to get a refund from AirB&B and get a bit of justice. Overnight Karen had a healthy realization…we are going to need every friend we can find as we find our way here. There could be no burning of bridges!

After a night of sleep in the one air conditioned bedroom we decided to stay for the duration of our first week in the lackluster dwelling.

In the following nights we would be awakened by an incomprehensible lecture delivered via a dilapidated Toyota pickup with a three foot megaphone lashed to it’s roof. I have no idea as to the contents of the lecture, but the orator was indeed passionate. The sidewalk pop up grill (literally grilling on the sidewalk) across the street would be boisterously festive until late in the night. Intermittent bouts of dogs barking would jostle us awake several times each night.

The weirdest part is…I still wake up happy each morning. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the unpolished nature of the town. Maybe it’s the sea level altitude. Maybe I just shouldn’t try to analyze every damn thing in my life.

It’s interesting how a place goes from strange and alien to somewhat comforting to slightly aggravating. After the three hour van ride from Guayaquil to Manglaralto Ecuador we took a stroll around a new town to discover…not much. It seemed like just a empty, rather dirty coastal fishing village.

Within just a couple hours, Ann, an expat Karen had been in contact with, called her. 30 minutes later we were striding down the streets of Manglaralto collecting colorful stories about each and every business residence and introduced to all their inhabitants. From the finest Filet Mignon restaurant in Ecuador to hours of the lavanderia (laundromat) we learned as much as we could take in.

The next morning we walked to the beach cabanas for breakfast with a new appreciation for the town. Over the next few days and hundreds of “buenas Dias” greeting we came to recognize and then appreciate each native citizen. Whatever we needed there was always someone there to help us with the challenge of living in a foreign country.

Learning the new way of living is so tiring. Nothing is familiar and my mental capacity is limited as I feel stretched mightily. Maddie is saving us over and over with her level of Spanish.

We arrived in Manglaralto on Wednesday. I sent my friend Ann, who I met last October, a Whats App message and she came down to our Airbnb within 5 minutes. What a treasure to have her expertise and connections, and wine at her house.

I was introduced to a Spanish instructor, who is also a surf instructor, so that is a bonus. We also have a connection that will help us get our bank account set up and our phones switched over to Claro next week.

Today after breakfast on the beach we took a taxi to Olon and it was heaven. Lots of people all around, the beach full of swimmers and surfers and a lovely cabana for the morning. The water is heavenly and the waves great fun.

We were able to secure a giant jug of drinking water and dropped laundry at the lavandria. All laundry is clean and folded for $3.50.

Figured out the bus schedule back to Guayquil for Sunday, and the ATM. Today I buy food and figure out how to cook. We went to the fish market this morning, but it was too risky to buy raw fish this week. Next week I may feel brave.

We continue to check out potential properties to rent. Several properties as options, but our timeline is closing. We look at another property Sunday morning, then one on Monday afternoon. Between the three, we should get something to stick. Maybe have to move to a hotel for a week or two.

Fun facts: no flushing toilet paper and you get to pay 25 cents to pee in the public bathrooms.

Also, I forgot that I don’t like to sweat and I don’t like humidity.

I was reminded by other expats that it will take a while for us to acclimate and get used to a new way of life here. It doesn’t happen in one week. There will be mistakes made, and some crying, but also victories will also come our way. I’ve got the crying part down.

The people here are so friendly and helpful. It is a much quieter and slower pace of life, which I have been needing for a while. I would really love a salad and an apple.

Why are we movers, the restless ones, when others seem perfectly content to put down deep roots? My brother and sister are still in Minnesota, while I have lived in 5 states since then and traveled much over the years. My kids are travelers and they, too, have other destinations in mind at any given time. I like to identify with my ancestor that were on the move.

I reflect back on David Brooks words in To Know a Person, where he asks how our ancestor show up in our lives? Where is our home? Where is the space we spiritually never leave?

I have been paging through the Lacher family history book that was painstakingly created with genealogy dating back to 1700. Like many our ancestors, mine were in search of new horizons and opportunities. I can only imagine what it was like for them to leave their families and friends, cross the ocean, land at Ellis Island, and be refused entrance to New York because they did not have enough money to leave the boat. Fortunately, a relative came to their aid. Once on the train West, they arrived in Minneapolis, and traveled the remainder of the trip by horse and buggy, to their lot of land in North Dakota. They arrived in winter and proceeded to cut sod squares for their first home. Once inside, out of the elements, fires were lit for light and warmth, but to their horror that cold night, the warmth woke the lizards and snakes, which began to crawl out the sod.

The family had to huddle outside in the dark as shovels and other tools were dispatched to rid the home of reptiles. But, they were successful even through the hardships.

Their experience reminds me of how much I love the writing of Willa Cather. Oh, Pioneer, and My Antonia. These stories speak of resilience, fortitude, adventure and grit. I feel the generations of my people and carry their spirit with me as we move out on another grand adventure.

I have saved a few tangible reminders of my family over the years. The thimble in the photo is my grandma Theresa’s. She was a quilter, embroiderer, gardener. The ruby ring belonged to my grandma Caroline. She loved beautiful things, music and made the best cinnamon rolls ever. The small rulers reminds me of my dad, who was a carpenter. The little lamb is from the work I did as the children’s pastor at our church in Montana, and other items are from our homeschool days. Some things just keep making it through to the next chapter.

So, how do my ancestors show up? Where is my home? Where do I never leave spiritually? I like to think I embody the grit and fortitude of my ancestors, and that I can figure out how to create a new life over and over. My home is where I feel connected to the land and the people. Spiritually, I carry the love and memories of the many people who have shaped my life so far, and I look forward to the new relationships waiting for me.

To wrap up, I have to go to the library to send this off as our internet is now disconnected. There is no more furniture in our home. The lawn chairs will come in so we can sit and enjoy each others company just like when we were first married. Now I am having fun and feel great relief to have so few belonging. Sebastian and Rosalia made the trip with only 2 suitcases and look how happy they are!

I think of the future, no matter where I would live, and become fixated on all the things that can go wrong. It’s an obsession called Negativity Bias. As humans roaming the prehistoric savanna we needed to remember all the bad things that ever happened to us or our tribe. That’s how we managed to survive. Know and respect all the dangers! Most of us still retain a healthy dose of this instinct. It keeps us from repeating mistakes that could cause us harm. Some people, like me, have honed that instinct. Invariably if I have a great idea I will begin to focus on all the things that could go wrong, eventually talking myself out of taking any action. It can lead to a life of stagnation.

We have committed to moving to Ecuador in less that two weeks and the internet algorithm feeds me all news of all the cartel deaths in every major Ecuadorian city. I see climate change warnings and research the effects of El Niño on the Ecuador coast. Learning about all the different types of south American food poisoning is another favorite read. Government corruption seems to be a fascination for my lizard brain.

My brain has always worked like this. I see a wonderful opportunity, make a commitment and then find as many reasons as possible to overturn the decision. Life can’t be that much better than the reality I a currently inhabiting. If it was so much better, why doesn’t everyone do it?

I sense that many people have minds that hold them captive in a similar prison. The talk themselves out of major life changes because they convinces themselves that “the grass is NEVER greener on the other side”.

As I have written before, my biggest fear is that I will move to another country, change most everything in my material world, and be no happier or more joyful. There is evidence to the contrary. Moving from Upstate New York to Montana was a major change with two young children, no house and no job. We worked through the difficult first year and were rewarded with many joyful memories. Moving from Bozeman to Montrose seemed almost like a cake walk as we had a job and a home waiting for us. Life in western Colorado has been a wonderful stage in our early 60’s.

Yeah but….none of those involved moving to another country, with new language, a new climate and a 15 hour flight to see family.

Perhaps it’s not joy I seek as much as novelty. I get bored very easily. People would say I am the ultimate enthusiast. I love learning new things, cooking new foods, new physical challenges, seeing new surroundings. To me, the greatest joy is had in the discovery. I crave being on the edge of my comfort zone. As life becomes very predictable and routine, I become lethargic and “punched out”.

This personal psychology, like any other, can be a blessing or a curse. As long as I can meet my personal obligations I’m inclined to figure, “why not?” Which is exactly how I respond when friends ask my “What possesses you to moving to Ecuador?”. “Why not?”

Yesterday we finished our FREE garage sale. Strangers came and picked through clothing, housewares, sporting goods and decorations that I spent real time and money acquiring.

As I walk through our nearly empty house I get a sad, hollow feeling. The same feeling I get the day after the kids leave after Christas and all the decorations are returned to the attic. That feeling that some beautiful things took place here.

As our belongings (interesting word) are sold or given away it feels less and less like home. It made me ponder “is home defined be our stuff?”

There is a familiar comfort in being surrounded by all my “things”. Many of them carry cherished memories. Even the simple objects like the lasagna pan Karen made our first married meal in, carry an emotional weight. Larger emotional real estate is occupied by gifts that have been given to me, like the fishing reel inscribed with the name of my grandfather who I never met, but connected to by a passion for fishing. What does one DO with it all, all the emotion, all the decisions, all the stuff?

Today dawned clear and sunny and I’m ready to press forward. I will be giving away most of what’s left of my stuff. It almost feels better to give it away. Knowing someone will appreciate it eases the emotional clinging.

I don’t know exactly what or where a home is for me. I’ve moved so much in my life it all feels pretty temporary. I guess home is anywhere I can feel truly present. A place, a landscape, a domicile that can house my soul.

As a homeschool family, we were always on the lookout for fun, educational opportunities, and upstate New York provided an enormous range of fun. Don and Walter had a Red Tail Hawk, which I mentioned in a previous post. We dissected owl pellets, hatched bullfrog eggs, caught salamanders and crayfish in our creek, but the most significant project we repeatedly looked forward to was the monarch butterfly life cycle.

Early each summer we would go to the edges of the woods around our house looking for milkweed plants. Gently lifting leaves of the plants, we were hoping to find one tiny white caterpillar egg on the underside of a leaf. Always successful, we brought two plants home and tended the plants as we watched the egg change, and eventually, out came a caterpillar. We supplied our caterpillars with fresh leaves and watch them voraciously devour the leaves, growing by the day. Then, the caterpillars would stop eating, and attach themselves to a branch, preparing for the big change.

I remember on one occasion watching a caterpillar begin to shake violently, the striped skin split and shriveled,

and the caterpillar was encased in a jade green chrysalis with small gold points around the top. The chrysalis eventually turns clear, at which point the monarch butterfly appears.

As I was watching the transformation, I had this panicky feeling for the caterpillar. Don’t do it! What if it’s too lonely? Too claustrophobic? What will it do in there for nearly two weeks? It might be scary, and you don’t really know how it will turn out.

In ruminating on these questions, I discovered these were questions I was asking myself about my life.

All new things can be scary and out of our comfort zone because we have not done them before, and the unknown can be unsettling. Our natural tendency is to stay safe and comfortable, when the best thing we can do for ourselves is stretch, grow, learn, become someone new.

I realized that I had been through many stages of re-creating myself and becoming someone new. Getting a job, driver’s license, college, marriage, pregnancy, homeschooling, college again, and now, living in another America.

In David Brooks book, “How to Know a Person”, he quotes psychologist Daniel Gilbert “human beings are works in progress that mistakenly think they are finished.” Brooks writes, “We are often blind to the fact that a change in life circumstance often requires a renovation in our entire consciousness. It is helpful to remember that everyone we meet is at one spot on their lifelong process of growth.” As Robert Kegan, says “All growth is costly. It involves leaving behind an old way of being in the world.”

It feels like a loss of parts of my identity and there is grief here for me at the moment.

This is scary and energizing, and I have all the emotions and insomnia, but this is how I grow as a work in continual progress.

That’s what all my mentors told me. For over 40 years I have been keeping a journal on a somewhat regular basis. I started when I was in chiropractic college as a way to vent my angst with the world. It was a place to spill my guts that where no one could judge me. Even as a 22 year old I thought that I might someday want to remember the feelings and emotions of a young man. As I struggled to make sense of the world I figured I better take some notes in case there was a test some day.

The tests came in many forms, but the answers were not to be found in my historic journals. It seems that each obstacle must me overcome utilizing only the skills and insights we develop as we struggle with them. Referencing our past victories or failures might give us some courage to face our current situation, but they provide few solutions.

The journals have been stored mostly in the attic with a few scattered here and there around my bedroom. With the deadline of April 7, 2026 looming as deadline for our move to Ecuador I endeavored to read through all my journals to take stock of my life as a 63 year old. In the process I could see certain patterns emerge with striking clarity and repeatability.

I worried about money far too often. I lamented my perceived lack of self esteem throughout my adult life. I also recorded and set to memory many beautiful experiences. My wedding day, the birth of our children, encounters with now deceased relatives, are the major events most people would want to remember. More importantly I recorded the simple, everyday joys of life. The deep contentment of reading bedtime stories to my children as they fall asleep, the ecstasy of making love on a date night, or the first swim of the summer. One comes to realize it is not the major social media brags that make a great life, it is the small everyday events that make a happy life.

Alongside my life journals I often kept sporting journals. As a child I would often wander the aisles of the county library looking for tales of hunting and fishing. I devoured the books about upland bird hunting and fly fishing. I envisioned a life as a outdoor writer. With a storehouse of outdoor adventures living in my brain I put to paper my memories afield. The smell of a flooded beaver dam in October, the sound of the bell on my setter as he coursed through the alders in search of grouse, the first time my hunting hawk ate from my hand, the sight of a trout taking a fly that I tied, the feeling of being enmeshed, swallowed by nature.

Animals, long dead rise from those pages. Hounds chasing rabbits. Setters pointing sharp tail grouse, pointers frozen, shivering, frozen on point with the scent of pheasant wafting in his nostrils.

Later horses permeated my soul as well as my journals. Short vignettes featuring dozens of horses, each one bestowing answers to questions I could not verbalize. Each one filling in a gaping hole in my growth and healing. The horse connected me to a divine, universal force, transporting my being from mere conscious existence to a spiritual inter connectedness of all beings. Yeah, it was that big.

Now it’s time to move on. To cherish those memories and let the journals go. For months I tried to make deals…maybe I should box them up and send them to my parents house? Then I would need to again deal with them when my parents, inevitably, liquidate their house. Maybe I should send them to my sister-in-laws house in Minnesota! They would likely be read, and promptly discarded by my nieces and nephews when their parents someday move. On a bright, clear Saturday morning, while my spirits were high, I tossed the box into the trash can.

I’ll continue to keep a journal, if nothing more than to clear my anxious mind and I’ll continue to make cherished memories.

Yesterday I let go of possessions that defined parts of my life. Many of these possessions had not been used in over a decade however they defined parts of my life that somehow I couldn’t let go of.

My son was given with my custom-made guitar. In 2019 feeling flush after working at a ranch for the summer, I contracted with a luthier in Bozeman to build a true blues guitar. We chose the wood from the Luthier’s warehouse and I helped him form the neck with a rough file to shape and contours of my left hand. I played the guitar every day since I received it. I sang blues and love songs to most of the people I truly care about on that guitar.

I gifted my Browning over and under shotgun to my son-in-law. I purchased a gun from a dying friend years ago, and since that time it has accompanied me on the plains of Montana, the woods of New England and the fields of Minnesota. There was always a dog leading the way, pulling me forward into new adventures. I spent many sunsets with one hand on that gun and the other hand on a hunting dog, feeling satisfied and content.

After spending decades, moving from storage unit to basements to attics, I passed my split bamboo fly rod to my son. The rod was found in a attic in the Catskills not far from where it was built by the master craftsman Ed Payne. He was renowned as the most accomplished rod builder in the 1930s and 40s and the piece is a work of art. To smell the lacquer on the storage sleeve is to step back in time to a place in sporting history where everything was still handmade one at a time each rod took over 40 days to complete with hundreds of processes done completely by hand. I never did fish with that rod. I always deemed it too valuable. I always thought I would find an antique fly reel and some silk line and hang it on the rafters and some remote cabin or den. Now my son will have to figure out what to do with it.

Rocky Miller built me a custom recurve hunting bow in 1986. I had no money and had to put the cost of the bow on a credit card. Somehow it was valuable enough to pay the 14% interest. I shot the bow many evenings practicing with friends and shooting at archery tournaments. I sat in tree stands for untold hours with that bow in my left hand and my right hand resting on the knocked arrow. At the end of a long season I could literally feel the game coming before I could hear it or see it. Somehow, my nervous system would “know” before my conscious mind did that there was game approaching. I could feel a hair on the back of my neck rise and I sensed that if I turned around and looked, there would be a deer there. It’s a miraculous feeling if you’ve never felt it.Though I haven’t used the bow in 15 years. It still feels a part of me. It will reside in my son’s house and he may use it someday hunting deer in Vermont.

The Buddha teaches that life is full of suffering, and that suffering is a result of becoming attached to people, places and things.In order to overcome a portion of that suffering we must let go of those attachments. It’s not an easy task but, today I made some serious headway toward enlightenment.

If you want to live in a foreign country you’re going to need a VISA.

The requirements to obtain a visa vary by country. Some countries are easy, some are difficult. As you might expect the more peaceful, prosperous, attractive countries are generally have the most roadblocks to citizenship. Places like New Zealand, France, Norway, Sweden and United States have some of the strictest requirements.

Easy places to get a longterm visa are generally countries that could use a financial boost and so they are more lenient with entry requirements.

Ecuadorian visas are generally on the easy end of the spectrum. There are several types of visas, The visa we are pursuing is a pensioners visa. Let me explain what is needed.

-Proof that you have steady income. Right now the minimum monthly income to qualify is $1,350 per month with an additional $250 per month for each additional household member

-FBI and state criminal record check, with fingerprints.

-updated marriage certificate (if you are married)

-bank statements to prove income

-Ecuadorian health insurance (about $350/moth for a couple)

That doesn’t sound like much, right? Well you need to submit all those documents to the Ecuador consulate in apostilitized form. Meaning each document must be translated to Spanish, then thoroughly researched to “prove” that it is legitimate. That’s the hard part. We contracted the services of gringovisas.com to take care of all that. So far it has taken 3 months and $4,250 and we are still waiting. Administrative paperwork is not my forte so I knew that I would never succeed filing the paperwork myself.

After 2 years (while leaving Ecuador for 90 days or less) you can apply for citizenship.

Each country has their own requirements for visas. Some are easy, think Bolivia, and some are difficult, think Switzerland. It’s up to you to decide where to live and how much red tape you are willing to deal with.

Have you thought about moving to another country? I’d love to hear how you are progressing toward your new home! Leave a comment and I’ll get back to you!

Don’s motorcycle sold last weekend to a fellow who is ecstatic about the bike and all the additional items Don threw in. The selling and giving away is building momentum and that feels great.

The home in Ecuador that was under construction is now complete, and it is so beautiful and colorful and nearly exactly what we hoped to find. Our realtor will meet us in Ecuador when we arrive to go check out the home. It is a 3 minute walk to the ocean and town, and is nestled in the trees. In the video we saw, we could hear many birds in the background and that made me so happy.

I have been thinking a lot about how it came to be that we will move to Ecuador. We tend to be a bit impulsive in our decisions, like when we moved from upstate New York to Bozeman, Montana. These things always work out. One thing that is rising to the surface is the recognition that we have always lived in beautiful landscapes. For me, 10,000 lakes of Minnesota and the Boundary Waters. When we moved to New York, we were surrounded by waterfalls, the Finger Lakes, and the Adirondacks. Montana provided the Bridger Mountains with hiking, fishing, camping, and endless wildlife. Tucson has incredible hiking, which I did not realize until we moved there. I calculated that I had hiked over 400 miles in the 8 months we lived there. Colorado, of course, is rich with its own beauty.

Ecuador has incredible biodiversity, with the Galapagos Islands and ocean life, Amazon and Andes. what I especially love is the dedication to preserving the biodiversity through ecotourism. The abundant beauty and diversity feels like such a balm to me.

I am reading a book called “The Soul of Money”, by Lynne Twist. In a chapter titled, “Allocation VS Accumulation”, she talks about how a scarcity mindset breeds accumulation to excess. How we become burdened by our excess and that clutters our thinking and our lives. We become attached to our possessions and as we identify with them it becomes harder and harder to not be possessed by them. This has been true for me and I found myself clinging to things to preserve a sense of stability and familiarity. Lately, as more and more items find new homes, I feel lighter and lighter. It is a gift every time.

I am so grateful for the family, friends and colleagues who have been supporting and encouraging us as we make the transition to our new life. What a tremendous gift of belonging I have in Montrose.

5 weeks until blast off!

But, the wheels are in motion, and even though we may want to put the breaks on and maybe delay our departure, we must continue on our trajectory. Anguish will pass and our world will be bright again. If we knew how hard it would be to leave each time, we would never go but I have never regretted new horizons. It has always served us well to heed the call to adventure. Growth and an upward spiral.

I have been reading a John O’Dononue’s book To Bless the Space Between Us; a Book of Blessings.

For a New Beginning

In out-of-the way places of the heart,

where your thoughts never think to wander,

This beginning has been quietly forming,

Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire,

Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,

Noticing how you willed yourself on,

Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety

And the gray promises that sameness whispered,

Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,

Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,

And you stepped onto new ground,

Your eyes young again with energy and dream,

A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear

You can trust the promise of this opening;

Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning

That is at one with your life’s desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;

Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;

Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,

For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

Recently I found this piece by John O’Donohue, from To Bless the Space Between Us.

“Beginnings often frighten us because they seem like lonely voyages into the unknown. Yet, in truth, no beginning is empty or isolated. We seem to think that beginning is setting out from a lonely point along some line of direction into the unknown. This is not the case. Shelter and energy come alive when a beginning is embraced… We are never as alone in our beginnings as it might seem at the time. A beginning is ultimately an invitation to open toward the gifts and growth that are stored up for us. To refuse to begin can be an act of great self-neglect. Our very life here depends directly on continuous acts of beginning.”

During the days, I am filled with anticipation and excitement. But in the wee hours of the morning, panic and doubt creep in. At these times I am focused more on what I am leaving behind rather than what adventure forward holds for me. In this initial phase of relocation it feels like we are just decluttering and embracing “The life-changing magic of tidying up”, as Marie Kondo promises. Giving away my Christmas tree and lights was hard, and I have to welcome and allow grieving for what I will say goodbye to.