I am a survivor of my own self-inflicted upheavals. Although I tried to sabotage myself time and time again, I still managed to rise above my relentless attacks – sometimes more cynical, but most times more hopeful, and always more grateful. I, at once, marvel on all that I have had the opportunity to do, and pine over those things I thought I would have done by now. Sometimes letting life take the driver’s seat will bring you by the scenic route, other times, through the not-so-good side of town, and usually to places you never realized you’d go. So be it with my travels.

Once a young girl with aspirations of a PhD in Music Theory and Composition, my childhood took detours from the norm on a regular basis, making the norm something peculiar to me at best. I never imagined at 8 years old, a straight A student, being told I had a promising future, and an IQ that would undoubtedly keep me from doing anything too stupid, that I would end up 50 years old without the coveted degree, but with a boatload of streetsmarts as a consolation prize. Let me be the first to tell you that streetsmarts do not command the same salary as a PhD! The competition for ‘streetsmarts’ positions is flooded with applicants. We’re a dime a dozen.

So, I didn’t go to any of the prestigious universities I could have had I stayed on the straight and narrow, and secured some scholarships, but I did end up many places I never thought I’d go to. I never thought I’d end up a 21-year-old eating dinner at King George V hotel in Paris with a multi-millionaire, but I still remember the menu nearly 30 years later! I never thought I’d fall asleep on an inflatable raft and end up a mile and a half from shore in the Gulf of Mexico, with the Coast Guard hovering above me, but I did. And until the sound of the helicopter blades woke me up, it was a really nice nap! And I never thought I’d end up in arguably the poorest nation in the Western hemisphere on a mission trip, but rising up from the ashes of my reckless trailblazing helped me realize it was time to focus on those less fortunate than myself, and accept the fact that I have squandered many a blessing many times over.

From Cape Cod to Key West, from a little town called Niceville to a town called Hell, from Paris to Haiti, there are people downtrodden with despair, high on hope, and some just skimming the surface of life. Still,  there are a handful of people who are embracing life with arms stretching further than the California coast.  That’s who I want to be when I grow up.