For those who don’t follow my @serial_nomad.writes YouTube channel, I just posted the 100th video of my memoir writing journey, which began back in May of 2014. To celebrate the milestone, I put together a 6-minute montage of my 2.5-year first draft journey, documenting the highs and lows of that initial struggle using my fingers rather than my feet to reach the northern terminus of the PCT.
To put things into perspective, a typical memoir usually sits around 80,000–100,000 words. My first draft was 250,000, which is why it has taken 10+ years to whittle the story down into something more digestible, though I still love the first draft as much as my current one.
In regard to my writing, I’ve had some very interesting developments take place this past week. The agent who I mentioned in my previous post actually got back to me and asked for the first 50 pages of my manuscript. In agent terms, this is called a “partial request.” I was so overwhelmed I burst into tears, and if you begin following @serial_nomad.writes, I’ll be posting a video of my reaction to her email next week! (Now if that doesn’t get a few new subscribers, I don’t know what will). ☺️
I had started moving in the direction of self-publishing, with the hope of birthing this book in 2026. But now that I’ve had some professional interest, I’m planning to wait the 3–4 month period it could take her to review the first 50 pages and see what happens. You’ll be the first to know if and when I hear anything more! Fingers crossed! 🤞🏻
When I think back to the 7th of October, 2013, I still wonder how on earth I made it through that final day on the PCT. I have written and re-written about this day hundreds of times in my memoir, and each time I relive the experience, I have tears in my eyes. In fact, when I read the final chapter of my book, I find myself sitting on the edge of my seat with my teeth clenched, despite knowing the outcome.
On my 12-year anniversary of finishing the trail, I wanted to re-share the post and videos I captured on that day. I was so naïve to the danger I was in, and am glad that at the time, my determination to reach the finish propelled me forward regardless of the conditions.
I sent a query to an agent yesterday who feels like a perfect fit for my memoir. I’m keeping my fingers and toes crossed that I hear something back soon.
I have tears in my eyes as I sit on the train to Schiphol (Amsterdam) airport to begin a new chapter. I have been on the road for 6 months now, and although I’ve had a wealth of incredible experiences throughout this time (volunteering at Tamera, visiting friends, working on an off-grid property, volunteering along the Camino, house-sitting, paddling, camping, and cycle touring), some of the best experiences were sitting around the table with family and appreciating the feelings of belonging and community I rarely experience because of my nomadic lifestyle.
Spending time with my cousins and their children, witnessing my mother playing cards with her two older sisters, seeing my dad and uncle drink whiskey on the couch, enjoying our morning coffee in the backyard, going for bike rides, playing games after dinner, and hugging my aunts goodnight. It was the first time in a long time I felt like a child again without responsibility. Dinner was made, the shopping was done, the house was cleaned, and all I needed to do was set the table, fill the dishwasher, and keep my room tidy. When I live alone, I have so many moments when I just want to be looked after by someone. Especially when I’m sick. And during these past few weeks, I experienced what that feels like again.
As one of the only people in my family without children, and being the youngest cousin, I still feel a bit like the baby of the family. I have a special relationship with my aunts and uncle because of this, and am grateful for the time this grants me to connect with them and the rest of my family. It was additionally special that my parents were here, because each year that passes, I’m reminded these moments will not last forever. It made leaving very difficult. But like every beautiful moment I’m blessed with in life, all I can do is be present while living it, feel the emotions that arise, and appreciate that everything in life comes to a natural end. 🩷
I just completed my first ever bike-packing trip through the north of the Netherlands, travelling approximately 450 km over 7 days. Though it may not have been as epic as thru-hiking or long-distance paddling, this was one of the first solo adventures I’ve had with my tent since hiking in Wilson’s Promontory in January, and certainly fulfilled my desires for adventure.
It’s shocking to me that this was my first-ever biking tour, considering this is such an efficient and relatively painless means of self-propelled travel. Doing this in the Netherlands was the best training ground I could have wished for, given I have family spread across the country, and because the bike paths are world class. I could not believe how many incredible bike-only pathways there were through the most amazing wetlands and forests without any cars in sight.
The terrain in the Netherlands is about as flat as you’re ever going to get. But the wind, especially in the north of the country where there is very little protection, can be intense (hence the thousands of windmills strewn across the country). I began my trek in the village of Joure (in the province of Friesland), before making my way across the north of the country to Groningen. I then rode down through the province of Drenthe into Overijssel, and then back to Joure in a big loop.
My approximate 450 km route.
Given I hadn’t ridden a bike for about 6 months, and hadn’t ever ridden more than 20 km in one sitting, I was relatively impressed with how my body held up. I developed a rather strong pain in my left knee by the end of my first day, and some pain in my left hip. But with a combination of ibuprofen and caffeine, I was able to manage both. I was lucky enough to borrow the bike from one of my mother’s oldest friends, Anke, and didn’t have any issues, except for when I accidentally let all the air out of the front tire and realised I didn’t have a pump that actually fit the valve. Thankfully I was close to a cafe whose owner lent me their pump!
The best part of my trip was meeting new people along the way. I was using an app called Campspace to find cheap camping options along the way because wild camping is illegal in the Netherlands. Through this app, I met an amazing couple on my second night at a campsite in Munnekezijl, who offered me their leftover dinner and invited me into their camper for tea and stropewafels. I also met an interesting couple in Drouwenermond, whose garden was filled with fruit trees, chickens, a wood-fire hot tub, and a huge enclosure with an owl. They made me dense wheat bread baked in a clay oven for breakfast, and offered me jars of their homemade jams and cashew butter.
I also learned a lot about bike-packing in the Netherlands. I used an amazing app called Knooppunten (https://www.knooppunten.nl/fietsen/planner) to plan out my route each day, and then uploaded the GPX file into an app called Komoot. I paid a small fee for the European maps in Komoot so I could use them offline while riding, and discovered the navigation was very effective. It was much easier than following the numbered signs, even though the dutch have done an amazing job at signposting hundreds of routes all over the country.
I’m planning to write out a gear and clothing list for my own memory and to help others in their planning. But in the meantime, I made these videos whilst on the road, to capture what and how I packed my gear on the bike, and what I ate along the way. It was surprisingly simple and easy, and I was shocked at how much I could actually squeeze into my panniers.
What I learned (or re-learned) from this experience, is that my perspective on life is always much broader when I spend time outside. I feel more hopeful about my life and the world when I’m physically active, my cup is filled by authentic connections with other human beings, and when my purpose is clear and my goals are simplified, my nervous system is the most calm. For me, there is nothing that lights me up more than exploring new territory, entering into the unknown, and pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I’m so grateful to have the freedom and privilege to take trips like this, and hope more than anything, my adventures will inspire others to plan their own. Happy trails to all!
I just spent three weeks volunteering in Villalonga, Spain, at an off-grid property I discovered eleven years ago when I started writing my memoir.
When I first arrived here in September of 2014, I was working on the first draft of my book. When I returned in August of 2018, I was working on draft 4. Seven years later, I just completed draft 11, and have now sent out a total of four query letters to agents.
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My travels whilst writing this memoir have cemented many of the lessons I learned along the trail: importance of community, need for purpose, healing power or nature, generosity of the human spirit, less is more, and to take each day one step at a time.
I’ve also discovered just how much I love working outdoors and being physical, and how fulfilling it is to see small projects through from the beginning to the end. Work seems to be so much more enjoyable when I’m not doing it for a paycheck, and when I can see the fruits of my labor on a daily basis. It also helps when I’m doing work for someone I care about.
My dear friend Pilar and I
These months of volunteering are yet another search for a new path. Eleven years ago when I first began volunteering along the Camino in Northern Spain, I reached a point of selflessness where I was prepared to give away all of my money and possessions. I was so joyful and fulfilled from serving others for two months, I was convinced I’d found the key to happiness. Straight afterwards, however, I ended up taking a work contract in Abu Dhabi, which very quickly killed that notion and threw me back into the capitalist spinning wheel.
This year, I was also offered a contract in Saudi Arabia in August. The job would have shifted my summer plans completely, and it felt as though the universe was testing to see if I would repeat the choices I made in 2014. I didn’t take the contract in the end, because I realized if I want to forge a new path in a direction that aligns closer to my current values, I need to move away from the old patterns and choices that used to serve me.
The unknown is both exciting and terrifying, but I’m trusting the right opportunity will come along. For the next three weeks, I’m returning to the hostel along the Camino, in the hope of rediscovering that sense of selflessness I first experienced in 2014.
On the writing front, having completed draft 11 (the final, final, final draft), I have queried a total of four agents. Each query has been quite different, as I’m continually learning throughout this experience, having made some rookie mistakes already. But I trust my story will fall into the right hands when it’s meant to, and until then, I’m going to immerse myself in the world of giving and see where it takes me!
Check out the description on this clip for my other videos from Villalonga in 2014 and 2018. They made me laugh!
I’m sitting in St. Augustin in Germany, having departed the peace and tranquillity of Tamera on Thursday. It’s taken me a few days to land into the regular world where violence is mounting, innocent people continue to die, and my anxiety for the future is at an all-time high. There were a number of Tamerians who flew to Cairo for the march to Gaza that was stopped by Egyptian authorities, and my heart is filled with sorrow that even a peaceful protest to protect innocent lives could be met with such resistance. I refuse to fall into the throes of hopelessness, but we’re certainly witnessing human nature at its darkest right now.
The beauty of my final morning in Tamera
The final few weeks in Tamera felt like a dream in comparison. I had gone there in the hope of rediscovering my sexuality, to open my heart, and to explore life in a community founded on the ideals of living in peace with all beings. I had a rough start, overwhelmed by unwanted touch and having to constantly assert my boundaries with many participants excited to explore Tamera’s open love philosophy without asking for consent. But after my breakdown in the second week, I eventually found my footing, and as the weeks went by, I felt my heart slowly reopening.
By week six, I admitted to one of my fellow group members named Marco that I was attracted to him, and during our final three weeks, enjoyed one the most blissful love affairs I’ve had in years. In the process, I came to love everything and everyone around me so much more. I needed less food, less sleep, and was floating on a cloud with so much oxytocin flooding my system. The power of love is strong, and I’m certain the only way we’ll ever be able to restore peace on this planet.
The joy of new love
What I also learned was the power of loving someone without clinging to them or becoming too attached. As my time with Marco was limited and our futures unknown, I found myself desperately searching for an answer to how our two unconventional life paths could somehow merge together. This clinging was placing unnecessary strain on our new relationship, and it wasn’t until we agreed to let go and trust that, if it was meant to be, the universe would bring us back together – that we could finally sink into the joy of loving without attachment.
Do I miss Marco? Absolutely! Is my brain still trying to figure out when we will meet next? Hell yes! I’m no expert at this. But loosening the grip of attachment to Marco has also helped me reduce my attachment to my material possessions. I was able to leave behind clothing and personal items in Tamera I would have struggled to part with a couple of months ago.
On our final day in Tamera, we did an intention-setting exercise inspired by Joanna Macy and her Work That Reconnects. First, we wrote down our intentions for re-entering the regular world, then shared them to a group of people who represented our doubts, ancient ancestors, beings from the future, and non-human beings who all shared their thoughts and wisdom. It was a powerful exercise, and I’m sharing my intentions below as a means of cementing them as I attempt to hold onto the positive energy I generated over these past two months in a peaceful paradise:
– To remain on a path that aligns with my values even though I may sacrifice comfort and relationships in the process
– To be of service and free myself from the egoic mind
– To not let fear dictate my actions
– To not cling to the things and people I love, rather to trust that love is in abundance
– To not get disillusioned by the voices and influences of those on a different path
– To put energy into the causes that touch my heart and not into what would make me feel like a good person
– To spread love
– To advocate for the planet and beings without a voice
– To trust the path I am on and to be patient in regards to outcomes
– To be aware of my shadows and not overcome by them
– To find peace within myself, even when the world is in turmoil.
After my time in Germany and a visit to a friend in northern Italy, I’m heading to Spain to volunteer on an off-grid property where I’ve spent many weeks over the past ten years writing my memoir. Afterwards, I plan to visit the hostel along the Camino in northern Spain where I learned the pure joy of being in service to others. I’m hoping both these experiences will continue to guide me in the right direction.
With love xo 🩷
Some of the magical humans I shared my Tamera experience with.
I have two weeks left of my Tamera experience, and although these past seven weeks have been a complete rollercoaster of emotions, I have finally reached the point where I’ve come to understand why I’m here.
A few weeks ago, I watched a documentary called ‘Water is Love’ that moved me so deeply. It made me realise there are tangible ways we can help the earth regenerate, and it devastated me that we have the knowhow and technology, yet the greater society continues on the path of destruction to feed the capitalistic greed that drives most behaviours and decisions in this world.
Hiking the PCT gave me an appreciation of nature I’d never had before in my life. After living outside for 6 months, I became so connected to the phases of the moon, waking with the sun, drinking from the streams, and sleeping under the stars, I felt one with nature. This deep connection has stayed with me, and when I think about the destruction of the planet, I feel a heavy grief. It made me realise that for people to really care about the planet, they must fall in love with her first, because we are wired to protect the things we love. The big question is how can all people fall in love with the planet without having to take off multiple months from their busy lives to thru-hike?
I got very sad today listening to a talk for Tamera’s 30th anniversary where residents spoke about where things stand in this project that has almost spanned 50 years. It’s been 30 years since they began creating the community in Portugal, but the project began long before then.
Their goal has been to create a healing biotope of peace, which in laymen’s terms is creating a model and energetic vibration of how to live peacefully with all beings that resonates across the planet. It was such a privilege to hear what they are celebrating and grieving after these 30 years here, and it really moved me because I realise that even a community like Tamera isn’t immune to the challenges of individualism, ego, lack of diversity and difference of opinions. The residents used to dedicate much more time to community building, speaking openly and transparently about all issues, attending their internal love school and experimenting in ways to live harmoniously. But since their visionary leader became sick a number of years ago, their vision isn’t as clear and there is a big discrepancy of opinions between the young and older residents. The demands of life and continual needs for funding the project have affected their precious time together.
One man said that for the community to thrive, individualism needs to die. This really made me think about the state and structures of the world and how so many things from our schooling to social media is designed for individual consumption. There needs to be a radical shift in our collective consciousness to find an alternative to the capitalist society we live in, and thankfully Tamera and many other communities are experimenting with these alternatives.
The problem is, these communities alone are not enough. I’ve often felt that it’s futile to do my part for the world when I know my neighbour is dumping chemicals into landfill or that the big corporations are going to destroy this world anyway. But I’ve realised we can all play a part in bringing that healing consciousness back into the foreground, knowing that this energy spreads whether we notice it or not.
I also realised that so many of my posts are simply about me and my experience without touching on the big issues of this world. I know most people are overwhelmed by the harm in the world with genocide and multiple wars happening across the globe. But I’ve come to realise how important it is to find time and space to grieve what’s happening to humanity in order to do my part to fix it. Doing anything is better than doing nothing.
This is why I’m writing this post today. I have been meaning to share this documentary link for ‘Water is Love’ for weeks, and I hope you will take the time to digest it’s message of hope and share it with the people you love. https://www.waterislovefilm.org/
It’s been interesting to observe my behaviors and emotions while living in close quarters with other people for the past month. Surrounded by more than one hundred volunteers and guests who are also out of their comfort zone is both fascinating and exhausting. But there are some beautiful and simple life lessons I am learning along the way that I wanted to share with you.
We are provided with three meals a day here at Tamera, made from an abundance of fresh organic food sourced either from the property or from close neighbours. With the exception of coffee and a few other ingredients, we are eating mainly seasonal vegetables, grains, a ton of legumes, and homemade bread.
I have never eaten such an incredible variety of fresh, delicious food, with the opportunity to eat as much or as little as we want. We pay 20 euros a day for food and board, and our community service component allows us to attend various workshops others pay for while giving back and building community. Having been here for four weeks now, I can say the food alone is well worth the investment.
What I notice in myself, and in those around me, is that sharing a buffet of food with large amounts of people creates a scarcity mindset. Certain foods run out faster than others, and I often see people (including myself) piling their plates full, or guzzling down what they have so they can race back for seconds before the most desired foods run out.
What I’ve been trying to do more recently is take a reasonable amount from the beginning that I would be satisfied with. This includes taking a second piece of bread (which always runs out) if I truly desire it to avoid resenting the people who take five or more. When I take what I want and don’t overload my plate, I end up eating much slower and appreciating what I have rather than making myself feel sick. And when I don’t deny myself the second piece of bread in the first place, I don’t guzzle down my food in the hope that I can rush back for a second piece later on.
This week at Sunday brunch, which is the biggest and best meal of the week, I took exactly what I wanted before sitting down between two people with at least double the amount of food on their plates. Firstly, I noticed an immediate sense of envy and judgement in how much the others had, before focussing back on my plate to see the smaller portion of equally delicious food. Having vowed not to go back for seconds, I could feel my body relax, and was able to close my eyes and notice the texture and flavours of the food, while slowly chewing and appreciating each bite. Eating in this mindful way, I could actually taste the food I was eating.
This simple moment of enjoyment made me reflect on the bigger picture of my life. I have been living with an underlying sense of dissatisfaction for the past year or more, with a sense that what I have and what I’m doing isn’t enough. I’ve been on a constant search to discover the most ideal way of living, to find the perfect place in the world to settle down, and the most satisfying work that will keep me both financially secure and fulfilled. I believe searching for answers and continuing to learn about the world and myself is valuable and necessary for growth. But I realise I often do this while forgetting about the incredible life I already have.
The past few weeks have made me appreciate that I have a supportive family, incredible friendships scattered across the globe, and a career that has allowed me to take time off to hike trails and explore different parts of the world. My plate is so full of life experience, it’s often hard to remember exactly what’s on there.
If I only take one thing from this experience in Tamera, I hope it is gratitude for everything I already have. If I could reflect on what’s on my plate everyday, perhaps I won’t need to worry about the food on other people’s plates, the ingredients that feel unattainable, or the fact that the tray might be empty by the time I arrive. And before I fill my next plate, I’d like to think carefully about what I really desire, so that instead of overindulging on new experiences, I savour the ones most important to me.
I’m happy to report a positive shift in energy this week. Last week was rough, and I reached the point of being ready to pull the plug unless something dramatically shifted. Fortunately, in our group meeting last week, one of the facilitators admitted there is a lot of change taking place in Tamera from a leadership perspective, which is affecting the way our group has been facilitated.
This moment of transparency created a major shift in the mood of our group, as many feel like we’ve been left to navigate this challenging and confusing world of community building on our own. Having the facilitator validate our feelings of abandonment reestablished trust. Understanding that the community members of Tamera are experiencing similar feelings of uncertainty and turmoil seemed to reunite us.
Most people doing the community service arc have come here to learn and observe the way Tamera operates, and in the process, live their own experiment of community living. I came here because I believe there is something important I need to learn about life, love and relationships, and I wanted to see if community living is for me. So far I would say it is not, as the amount of energy that goes into managing multiple needs, desires, opinions, etc, feels utterly exhausting. But much could change over the next five weeks. I’m also an introvert, which is why I’m feeling so tired. I just don’t have enough time to recharge on my own.
Fortunately, the kitchen chief spoke with my facilitators to organise a refuge after my nervous system collapsed last week. I didn’t realise how much energy I was putting into protecting my boundaries until I finally snapped and broke down in front of my entire group. The positives that came out of that breakdown is that everyone checks in before touching or hugging me now, and I’ve been given a hut to relax in for a week so my nervous system can recover.
I’m not the only person struggling, but I’m grateful for this gift of privacy and a place to retreat to for a week. It’s amazing how comforting it is to be in a space where I’m not constantly wondering who will be entering the room at any moment, whether it be my dorm, the communal bathroom, or any other indoor space I’ve been in. My only escape has been short walks off the property, so this hut feels like a palace.
Despite the challenges, I still feel very fortunate to be here. I’m incredibly privileged to have the resources and time to experiment with this way of living. And even if I decide that communal living isn’t for me, the lessons I will take from this experience will serve me on whatever path I choose next.
Discovering what it means to be alive, one step at a time…
Serial Nomad 