memories, not mansions

When I was a young girl, I wanted to live in a castle by the sea. Inside this castle was a handsome prince, a full-size basketball court in the basement, an olympic size swimming pool in the living room, and super tall windows and ceilings. Apparently, I wanted it all.

Better start saving, my parents would say; but I never did. I’ve always been good at spending my money too quickly, especially when it comes to seeing this big, beautiful world. I can’t help it. Even though it has been so hard to say goodbye and I can’t stand the thought of leaving my nephew for months, I’m involuntarily moved by the magnets inside of me that pull me places across ponds.

As I begin my travels (I write to you from the Toronto airport; flying into St. John’s in a bit) and prepare to spend what little money I do have, I realize that I am investing in something.

I’m investing in sharing stories with strangers that may become friends and experiences that will challenge and nurture me. I’m investing in memories, not mansions.

It’s funny how time changes things. Momentarily, I’ve become quite content with a backpack and a pair of hiking boots. I’m hooked on the freedoms of the simple life.

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9 thoughts on “memories, not mansions

  1. Hi Chelsea honey!!! Mom and Dad G. are thinking about you and your adventurous spirit. Dad is worried about you staying safe and I am excited for you and the stories you will have to share!! My prayers are sufficient for your safety as you travel the world! Keep us posted!! Love!

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