This year brought its share of challenges—wildfires, upheaval, and the weight of a world in flux—but it also proved the power of resilience, creativity, and community. I leaned into uncertainty, found strength in letting go, and uncovered meaning in the chaos. It’s been a bold reminder to embrace the rawness of life as it unfolds. What did 2024 teach you about navigating the unexpected?

Human connection is a gift: a radiant sunrise, bringing warmth and light to the soul. But it's easy to neglect amid the messiness of life, the doom-scrolling, the polarizing politics, the rising costs, and melting ice caps. Yet, even brief encounters can deeply enhance well-being. To my delight, I've discovered a profound sense of connection and belonging through nurturing relationships, seeking bonds amid change, and cherishing shared experiences, even while living a transient lifestyle.

Imagine spending a decade of extended stays in various countries, soaking in each place's unique atmosphere. That's the backdrop of my travel memoir, I Could Live Here. One of the highlights for me has been stumbling upon local shops that genuinely capture the essence of their communities. Whether it's the skillful creations of local makers, the diverse collections in art galleries, or the cozy corners of inviting bookstores, here are a few shops that embody the independent spirit of some of my favorite places.

Can you believe we're on the cusp of a new year? It has me dreaming about what's next and thinking about ways to enhance our explorations in 2024—individually and collectively. How, as travelers, can we be more present and appreciative of the people and wonders around us while embracing a form of travel focused on forming meaningful connections, discovering more about ourselves, and positively impacting the communities we visit? For those considering extended adventures in 2024, I wanted to share some tips for nurturing a genuine sense of home and belonging on the move.

We all have our favorite places. For me, one of those places is Évora, Portugal, a UNESCO World Heritage city just over an hour’s drive from Lisbon and set to be Europe’s Capital of Culture in 2027. Here are a few of the things I love most about living in Évora, the capital of the Alentejo region, and some insider tips to help you navigate a visit.

I spent the past week in transition, relocating from Scotland to Portugal as part of our ongoing nomadic journey. Settling into the next place is just one of the many things I look forward to. If you're contemplating a new transition, here are some hard-won tips to help you make the most of it. Plus, I'm celebrating my sixtieth birthday this month with exciting news.

In a world that often emphasizes stability in midlife, I've chosen an unconventional path for middle age—a nomadic way of life. And, while not an approach suited for everyone, long-stay travel holds unexpected rewards. For me, it's a lifestyle that has unveiled the riches of uncertainty, change, and connection. Drawn from a decade of long-term travel, here are ten advantages to embracing nomadism in midlife—or at any stage of life.

Thirty-seven days into self-isolation I asked my husband Hank, “Are you lonely?” Like much of the world’s population, we are physical-distancing and staying home to help prevent the spread of the novel coronavirus COVID-19. Would this, I worried, lead to loneliness? And, in turn, to biological effects as deadly as the virus itself? Instead, isolation has brought clarity to something we'd innately suspected all along.

It’s been almost a year since I wrote about the death of my father and the complex emotions I experienced as a result of being in South America when he passed.

This time, it is aging (I celebrated my 54th birthday this month) in an ancient city in Portugal that inspired me to share my thoughts about politics, travel, and hope.

A new year is ripe with potential: 52 weeks, 365 days, 8760 hours, 525,600 minutes, 31,536,000 seconds to choose differently, to perceive differently, to BE different. And, whether it's optimistic or delusional, I enjoy the act of creating new year's resolutions.

It’s Thanksgiving in the United States today and I’m spending it in Peru with my husband Hank and an international gang of expats and Peruvians while feeling grateful for the random and unexpected path that led us here. 

How do you celebrate Thanksgiving? Here are 8 Pinterest quotes to help inspire the day.

I was raised to tell the truth, though sometimes I can't help but say what other people want to hear: No, I don't mind waiting. Yes, you're right, I should take tango lessons. The lie is out of my mouth before I can stop it, though it doesn't feel like a lie because it's what I imagine a better version of me would say. And yet, last summer, when my honest response to an airline steward's request was met with a scowl of disapproval, I couldn't stop feeling guilty. Crazy. Right?

Note: This essay, inspired by a family visit, was written in 2012. Since then my relationship to family has been slowly transformed. It wasn’t something I ever spoke about, but a powerful internal shift had taken place. At the time, I had no idea that circumstances would conspire to put my love to the test or that I would take the plunge to help when needed and still feel as I did when I wrote the piece —that the most important thing in life is showing up for one another.

It’s a compelling question: If I only had a few weeks to live, where would I go?

Would I drop everything and head off on a thrilling round-the-world Bucket List adventure? 

Would I would stay right where I am, in a temporary house in Mexico?

Would I return ‘home” to the landscape of my childhood?

Part terror, part pleasure, a writer’s life is complicated. Like a gripping adventure tale, it’s a pulse-pounding journey that never lets up, with danger lurking everywhere. It can set your heart soaring one minute and break it an instant later.

So why do we do it? In my own life, writing is how I make sense of myself and the world around me. I suspect it’s like that for many of us. 

Many years ago my husband, Hank, bought me a T-shirt that read “I used to be schizophrenic, but we’re just fine now.”

We joke about the crazy woman he married. The unconventional wife who reinvents herself every decade or so and still doesn’t know who she wants to be when she grows up. And, as the shirt suggests, there’s more than one of me in this marriage.