Jess.Wandering

Some places always feel like coming home. But for me, home has never been a box with rooms, a yard, and white picket fence.

I tried to fit my life into that box. I really did. Not that long ago I spent my days behind a big desk, in a small office, with nothing on the white walls except for the law degree that I thought would define my future. Instead, I felt nostalgic for a life I wasn’t living, and probably never would.

Growing up I wanted to be a doctor. Then an entomologist, photographer, journalist, veterinarian, conservation biologist - the list goes on. Point is, at no time do I remember wanting to be a lawyer. And all those paths I didn’t take, they haunted me. So when fate handed me a get out of jail free card in the form of a layoff, I embraced the opportunity.

I didn’t look for another job as an attorney. Instead I focused on the big stuff. The whats, and the whys? I definitely don’t have it all figured out. But this time around I’m determined to be the author of my own story. There is no blueprint for this life. No instruction manual. And I’m learning to be okay with that.

When I feel particularly lost I try to remember who I was before the world told me who I should be. I can feel little pieces of that person returning when I’m on top of a mountain, swimming in an alpine lake, or wandering down a dirt trail. For me, that is home. That’s where all the world’s distractions and expectations quietly fade into the distant background and I’m able to finally see the forest past the trees. And it’s where my story takes place.

Of course, every story has a long version…