A Letter For Those Who May Need It - September 2026

Psst…not every part of building a life you love looks particularly exciting.

I was supposed to be surfing this weekend. At least, that was the plan.

I told myself this is my last weekend of the summer. The last weekend the weather was supposed to be nice (I live in the UK, this is a bold assumption). I had pictured myself driving to the coast, camping near the water, waking up early for a surf lesson, probably drinking an unreasonable amount of coffee somewhere along the way (or, say, a white monster; I do love these).

Instead, I spent most of my weekend staring at numbers on a screen.

Exciting, I know.

But somewhere between looking at my plans for the next couple of months, preparing for a huge international move, and thinking about the five countries I’m getting ready to explore, I realized something: the adventurous parts of my life are made possible by a lot of very unadventurous ones.

Sure, I could have forced the trip, spent extra money on an Airbnb, or hotel, or camped in the rain, with a low likelihood of catching any noteworthy waves, because it was my last summer adventure.

But, you know what else is really cool?

Knowing when to take a pause. Knowing when your priorities and your vision are bigger than one trip or one weekend. Sitting down long enough to make sure you’re still on track. Figuring out where you can stretch your budget so you can say yes to another snowboarding trip this winter. Looking at the bigger picture and asking yourself what you actually want your life to look like—and what it takes to make that possible.

Social media is a highlight reel, and I like it that way.

I love sharing my great adventures, and all the crazy trips I go on, and the new things I try. But, what I don’t usually post are the weeks and months I spend planning out every part of my vision. Where I want to stay. What I want to do. What I can afford to spend. And, most importantly, HOW I’m going to make it happen.

There are spreadsheets behind the plane tickets. Budgets behind the snowboarding trips. Quiet weekends behind some of the biggest adventures of my life. And a whole lot of ordinary days behind the life I once dreamed about.

I hope this letter finds someone who needs a reminder that building a life you love often starts with completely boring, mundane tasks, over and over.

The planning. The working. The waiting. The choosing not right now so that eventually you can say absolutely, let’s go.

Before you know it, you’re weeks away from some of the greatest adventures of all time. Something you once had written down as a dream.

The highlight reel has roots, too. 🌿

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