Settling In
Not every beautiful thing is meant to become permanent. We know this. Some experiences exist to expand. To remind us of who we can be. To show us a version of life we wouldn't have imagined on our own.
And when the time comes to leave, to let it go, nothing is lost. It all comes with you.
I could stay. I could build a life here. A life of beauty, nature, adventure, love, friends, and sun. But I am still leaving it all behind. Letting it all go. Because I know that there is even more for me where I am seen more fully, love more deeply. In another life, I would get my chef license, charter a big sailboat, fall in love, see my girls. It would be an amazing life, but it wouldn't be mine. But I created that life and I got to live it the past couple of weeks. And for that I feel extremely full, lucky, and grateful. What a beautiful way to experience everything and everyone the world has to offer. And another lesson on having faith and letting go. Your new life is going to cost you your old one. But faith and courage must be rewarded and I have a feeling things are only going to get better. I wonder how fulfilling and surprising life can get? How free can life be?
2/18/2024, Tortola, BVI
Two years later, I know that leaving Tortola led me into lives I could have never seen coming. If I had known what was waiting for me, I would have left without hesitation.
There was a New Jersey coffee shop with the cutest loft you've ever seen above it. Full of family and fishermen and late-night storms and shy foxes. An October gig and a beachside mansion for the winter. But I left with the crowds the day after Labor Day. Sly and sure.
A small room in the jungle with my friend Kendall, who is endlessly magnetic, and Sian, my favorite artistic mastermind.
A quiet mountain town. Off-grid and small. A pocket of gardens, homeschooling, and fancy cabernets.
A pebbly beach on a long island that felt closer to an afterlife.
And now?
A tiny studio neighboring a tiny lighthouse in a tiny town. My world feels bigger than it ever has before.
Full of live music that’s easy to dance to and girls that dance with me. Tandem bikes and bears. My heart is steady as the season shifts into nudibranchs waiting in tide pools, heavy cameras on cliffs that peek out like shy beasts, and chilly drives tucked into the middle of the wave-check truck. I sing quietly along with Sasha as she plays for me on her ex’s fancy guitar that he will probably come back for. The warmth of summer is almost here. We’re going camping.
Between it all, I have caught myself questioning how long I will stick around, getting excited when I catch a glimpse of life in a summer road-trip van or an opportunity an island away, but they don't surprise me the way Santa Cruz does.
Staying can be just as expansive as leaving. Stay completely. Leave completely. Trust yourself to know when your roots have reached the edges of where you are planted.
Published July 2026