One year ago tonight I decided I was going to pivot professionally, put my belongings in storage, ditch my house, break up, buy a $100,000.00 RV, and move to the ocean with only the dog and a mess of Gucci ready-to-wear. I had no real plan, but knew it was time to quiet things all the way down for a minute.

That minute turned to 8 weird months on the beach, and the path from there to here has been nothing short of strange and beautiful — but my plan did work. 12 months later I’m happy, relaxed, inspired, surrounded by kindness, and regret nothing.

Hate your life? Blow that shit up. ✊

For the past 6 months or so I’ve been out here all alone, teaching myself how to live without any answers, learning how to create safety in the midst of whatever dangerous-feeling bullshit happens to be swirling about at any given time, playing dress-up happy agate beach babies with the tiny animal, breathing the ocean air every single day, and dealing with an endless stream of outdoors-related tiny house van life dramas while I chase this ever-elusive peace I’ve truly only ever read about in books.

I’m not hiding. I have quit the world.

When I come back — and I AM coming back sometime soon — I will be there because I actually want to be; and because I miss you. ❤️