It’s now been just over one month since we pulled out of the driveway of our house in Poulsbo, Washington for the last time with a full truck, and turned everything in our lives upside down to follow a crazy dream that we’ve had for almost a decade. The term Manonash means “The annihilation of a conditioned mind”, and has been a consistent name for our sailboats over the years. It also represents a mindset that we have adopted and have tried to keep in the forefront of our minds as we embark on this mad mission.

I can’t put my finger on exactly when I realized that I was discontent with our everyday life. There was no lightning bolt of realization, it was simply the growing knowledge that there had to be more to life than going to work at a job that I enjoyed, but wasn’t my life’s passion, and coming home to do chores and watch TV in the evenings.

We had lived on boats for a number of years outside of Seattle, and I had truly loved the simplicity of the lifestyle. However, after a particularly harsh winter on a thin boat, I was ready for a dry and solid place to live for a span of time. We found a house in our price range that was perfect, although a bit larger than we needed, and everything fell into place for us. I was managing a lovely knitting shop, and truly enjoyed coming home after work, having a cocktail, and cuddling up with our two sweet dogs…until all of a sudden I realized that every day was the same, and in the blink of an eye, almost a year had passed. Looking around the house, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t even bothered to put up pictures yet and make the house truly mine.

Thankfully, I’m married to someone who also has a touch of wanderlust, and is always up for an adventure. After many good conversations, we realized that we were in the same place – okay with where we were, but also struggling with the sense that there was a big world out there to explore. We had talked many times over the years about sailing around the world, and the idea was always intriguing to me. However, it seemed to always fall into the “someday, maybe” category. With two dogs, one of whom is quite old and completely deaf, I couldn’t wrap my mind around jumping in 100% and sailing around the world right now. I adore these animals, and although they enjoyed the cruising we did on the boat, I couldn’t ask them to go through that sort of full time transition this late in their lives. However, I also couldn’t wrap my mind around waiting for years to set out on an adventure, simply because we have pets.

We were able to figure out the perfect compromise, which was to sail in Mexico during the winter months, and spend the summer months at a family cabin in the Sierras, which has been in my husband’s family for almost a century. It’s very rustic (no cell service, boat or hike in only, running water from the glacier streams, power from propane and solar panels), and needs a lot of rehabbing, but it was the perfect missing puzzle piece for me when considering our future. Although I am filled with wanderlust and almost always wanting a new adventure, I also have a deep desire for a place to call home, and for a connection to family and history. The cabin provides me with the place to settle in and feel connected to the land, where the sailing will fill my need for adventure.

Once the big-picture idea was in place, we just had to make it a reality. Our first step was to list our house, and see what sort of response we could get. This was naturally the biggest factor in our ability to financially make our dream happen, so everything hinged on our ability to sell the house in a timely manner. We quickly had a number of good offers come in, and all of a sudden it was real – we were truly jumping off this cliff of comfort, and seeing where we would land. Now we just needed to sell almost everything we owned, quit jobs, and “cut the dock lines.“

The selling process was surprisingly liberating, although certainly emotional at times. Knowing our limited space made decision making a bit easier for me, but I am a person who attaches emotion to objects, so weeding through a lifetime of collected letters, books, souvenirs, keepsakes and decorations was a true challenge. Luckily, a number of friends had been reading books on simplifying their homes, and they had excellent tips for me. One jewel was to take a photo of something that you’re having trouble parting with, so you can still look back and remember the person who gave it to you, or the place that you bought it, without having to hold onto the actual physical object. This was so helpful, and for some reason, it was the key to being able to let go of things that I had carted around with me for years.

The moment that our decision to change became truly real to me was when I gave notice at my job. I was nervous for the first time as I shared our plans with other people that I respected. Most of them were supportive, if a little envious, and expressed a wish that they had the ability to do something similar. However, the ones who were cautious and expressed confusion about the many uncertainties in our plans introduced a small amount of doubt in my mind. Our plans certainly seemed romantic and well thought through, but were we deluding ourselves? Could we really make a life for ourselves if we weren’t part of one community full time? Could we be diligent enough to write and do our freelance work consistently enough to make ends meet? Would we regret this choice after a few months and be stuck? Were we a little bit crazy?

However, here we are, a month into our adventure, and I can say with honesty that no, we aren’t crazy, and as with most things in life, the romantic notion of an idea quickly turns into regular daily life once you are settled into it. For the first few weeks here at the cabin, it was difficult to feel as though we were here for longer than our typical two week vacation. We were trying to take some time to ease into life here, and not feel as though every project needed to be done immediately. However, finding a schedule and balance in life is naturally as difficult here as it was in a cosy, comfortable house with all the amenities. Distraction is distraction, whether it is spending a morning watching YouTube clips, or cleaning out cupboards and boathouses.

We are slowly finding our balance, but regardless of the challenges we face with this, I am delighting in the distance from constant media, the ability to let my imagination wander as I watch sun reflect off the lake, becoming closer with nature and the wild animals who live here, and learning how to make due without a grocery store within a minute’s drive. In fact, one of my favorite moments here so far was simply taking a number of hours to look through cookbooks to find a good recipe for the trout Steve had caught. It was such a simple pleasure, however one that I hadn’t really done in years as we had grown used to searching online for a particular recipe.

I heard a report on the radio a number of years ago regarding creativity, and that psychologists now believe that allowing our minds to wander without being engaged with a specific task (aka boredom) is what truly allows our creativity to flow and flourish. Allowing myself to let my mind wander has been difficult over the last month, and this is my main goal over the next month – to shift from feeling guilty if I spend an hour letting my mind go where it may, learning to view this time as beneficial and healthy.

I am slowly becoming stronger physically from the maintenance projects that need to be done, and am also becoming mentally stronger as I require my mind to ask questions, ponder complex ideas and concepts, and work a little harder without Google answering every musing  immediately. One of my main mantras as we were considering making this leap was that perhaps life shouldn’t be quite as easy as it has become for us. I still firmly believe this, and need to keep reminding myself of this truth as we continue to delve into our new, slightly unorthodox life here in the high Sierras.