The myth of the mystical Phoenix is that when it dies it turns to ashes, those ashes then ignite into a golden flame of rebirth, and the Phoenix lives on, renewed.
Traveling opens the heart, mind, body, and soul through all of its wanderings. Traveling creates the ashes from which the traveler is reborn, and love lights the fire.

I am a backpacker, a social worker, a grateful receiver, an eternal empathizer, a seed growing, an ear listening, a child learning, a sister sharing, an American evolving, a therapist reflecting, a daughter caring, an embrace holding tightly, a friend to all - I am a Traveling Phoenix, experiencing the world that sets my soul on fire with love. Thanks for joining me.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

The Answer, my Friend, is Blowing in the Wind

The world is always looking out for us. I find it hard to believe in circumstance when I have narrowly missed life-threatening natural disasters at least four times.
Had I not traveled to Nepal in November and December 2014, perhaps I would have been there in April 2015 when three record-setting earthquakes shattered the country’s resources and killed over 4,000 people. Had I chosen to climb Mount Kinabalu, as planned, rather than travel to Brunei and fly to the Philippines, then perhaps there would have been 17, instead of 16, trekkers killed on the top of the summit during the earthquake that struck at the beginning of June. If I hadn’t been robbed in the Philippines, maybe I would have continued to camp on beaches in the Philippines and Indonesia, and maybe something much more traumatizing would have happened to me. After that experience, and the beginning of the rainy season, I booked my flight out of the Philippines early, and maybe, just maybe that would have put me on the wrong boat that day in June when cyclones hit and 32 people drowned. After all, I was on the same sea, traveling not too far away. If I stayed in Indonesia I would be coping through the massive forest fires that are currently ravishing the nation - particularly in Kalamatan – where seasonal field burning has become the latest nightmare.


I seem to float along like a feather carried by the wind. Although I don’t know where I am going, the wind does. It takes me high above all of the coral reefs, over the volcanoes, through the fiords, and away I go. Carelessly free and floating on the back of this invisible force that seems to hold all harm at bay.

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