Born to Move
I was wondering, what should be the story I pen to paper? Something of what the future holds, maybe even a picture of my daily routine? Perhaps the past will lend insight to the steps that lie ahead. Yes, I believe that is where to begin today.
It is important to note I was born into a level of turmoil, coming with my own life and nearly taking that of my mother. But, being the champion she is, she not only survived but took no time to recover. In fact I was not but two weeks old when I took my first flight with her across the country.
My mom (center, blue dress) in Singapore
You see my mom was a professional singer. Now you’d be forgiven to surmise that she only performed here or there within the states, but in that line of thinking you would be proved incorrect. No, my mom traveled the globe. Sharing her voice in Australia, singing across Singapore and Hong Kong, not to mention Moscow and the Kremlin itself.
She was, and is, a bold soul that brings life and joy with a faith of all things working as they should. It was in this spirit that in two short weeks of being born in Texas we had flown to the brisk mountains of Montana for her next performance. It is no longer as frequent we are graced with her voice, yet it never fails to move those that are chanced to listen.
My dad, somewhere in the mountains
Now it is evident much of my spirit comes from my mother, but what about my father? You might say he also lended much to my lust for adventure. Born across the ocean in Germany he has moved more than he can readily recall. With every land he stepped through he would trek to the farthest wilds.
Reading books of cowboys, pioneers and sailors he endeavored to craft his own tales with his journeys. Across the Rocky’s, the smoky mountains and even the alps he would venture into the unknown. How many have played hide and seek within castles of Europe, how many awaken in mountains surrounded by vast herds of elk?
Not only this but he has been a pilot for 30 plus years. Seeking the freedom of the skies, and going farther than history ever thought possible. This will grant you, dear reader, a small taste of the parents that brought me to this world and raised me. I believe you are beginning to understand where my spirit comes from.
As I grew I was not raised to sit idle. Often thrust into trees to climb, taught to spot and identify birds and beasts alike. My dad would frequently ask me from what direction did we start our daily adventures, teaching me that if I know where I came from I am never really lost.
Exploring the White Sands Desert
We would move frequently and travel even more in between. Some of my sweetest memories are that of riding across the deserts of New Mexico with my father. Climbing the great white dunes, being caught in a tumultuous sandstorm, even passing into caves filled with their own wonders. He would take me on new adventures that I found to be the greatest escape. Passing across the world was simply a way of life.
As I grew and developed I was read books of heroes with seemingly no fear. Those that would venture into the maws of danger, that danced through unknowns into fortunes and peace. Such was the life I believed I was crafted to live. One of courage, to go to all places and see all things big and small.
The years passed as we moved state to state to state. From Texas, to Oklahoma, then back and forth before arriving in Florida. I was not even 18 years old before I was flown to Asia by myself for a two week tour with foreigners I’d never met. My lust to become the stories I was read seemed to only grow.
Me (far right camel) exploring the Israeli Desert
And indeed it has! For my life seems to be that of someone I would have envied as a child. This is a small taste of the world I grew in. And all this has been to say, it is little wonder how I came to be living on a sailboat in the tropics. It would seem I was destined to go against the grain
Backpacking through Norway, a story for another time
