Part I: Profound Living, Looking Over The Horizon Line

Not long ago there were wildfires near where I live. It was my first time living in a region where fires have names. I come from a place where only hurricanes have names. The descriptive labels were new to me, as unexpected as the reports of flames igniting arid patches of land due to high winds and bad luck. That night I learned, like many things in life, it depended on the way the wind blew. One direction, all would be fine. Another direction, all could be lost.

The shaky voices of TV news reporters told me I should consider what I would take with me in the case I had to quickly evacuate. Much to my relief, very few material possessions came to mind. My passport was my immediate first thought. Family photos came next. Laptop, phone, wallet revealed my practical side. The ability to travel far, to treasure family memories, and to communicate: apparently those are my top three concerns, when my deepest self is pressed to decide.   

Luckily, a rare steady mist of rain arrived and the fires dissipated. But the smooth weight of the passport in my hand was a sensation hard for me to let go. Those who know me would confirm that my passport is my oxygen and my inspiration – it is my most used document and form of identification, in every sense. Airplanes and airports are some of my favorite places. For most of my life, I have had a sky-seeking spirit and the good fortune to study, live, work and travel throughout the world. My fondest memories are linked to exploring – both new and known places, breathing in different cultures, footsteps falling on unfamiliar lands.

My love for that life of learning and discovery led to my career in international education. My mission is to inspire that same sense of adventure in students and to help them to pursue their global goals. As part of that career, in recent years, up to the pandemic, I have traveled almost monthly to places near and far. The eager suitcases permanently open on my bedroom floor can attest to that way of life. The pandemic has put that life on pause, but more than a year since my last significant journeys, I still feel the deep pull of the horizon. I anxiously await the next adventure, the next place the wind will take me.