Blog: The Soul of a Journey

Today I arrived in Cartagena.  I hadn’t planned on arriving alone.

My first week was supposed to be a vacation, with my son. But he and I have a troubled relationship and my leaving — even though he’s technically an adult and has refused to accept any actual parenting or direction from me for years — brought things to a head.

My flight leaves in 7 days, 21 hours. The past two days were the longest of my life.

Things are changing, rapidly.

I’ve sold most of my dance costumes now, and performed my final show as a soloist. Just one major troupe gig left, and then I will never be Lauren Zehara again.

What I am: A full-time bellydance/yoga teacher and part-time writer, tethered to the Illinois town of her birth by home and business ownership.

What I want to be: A full-time freelance writer, free to wander the world and explore everything the Earth has to offer.

Read More »Karma and leaps of faith

When I tell people that I’m finally heading out of the country after 10 years of working toward the goal of becoming a nomad, I get the strangest responses.

“You’re so lucky. I’m jealous. I wish I could do something like that.”
“You’re so fortunate to be able to do this. Most people will never get the chance.”

I’m so looking forward to a week in an idyllic hostel with my son… but I can’t continue to live in a $40/night room after he goes home, so I set to work finding a cheaper place to stay.

Just moments ago, I booked my flight out of the country to begin my nomadic… Read More »It is decided

I recently had the strange, spiritually-resonant experience of hearing the exact same sentence from the mouths of at least a dozen friends within one week, in a variety of situations.

“You are not responsible for anyone’s happiness but your own.”

When my plan to leave the country was first hatched, ten years ago, I was staying in a long term relationship ‘for the sake of the kids.’ He humored me, pretending to be working toward the same crazy goal. I let him pretend. I knew I was probably going solo on this voyage, but I was happy to have something to look forward to in my “empty nest” years. It all seemed very far away.

What is it like to try to get rid of EVERYTHING you own?

Well, it’s daunting. Utterly overwhelming. And very liberating.

I’ve just begun. I won’t be renting a storage unit, and I don’t want to burden any of my friends or family members with the task of watching over my stuff, so I have to look at every item in my house and ask “Do I want to carry this around the world on my back?”