I have always been a city girl. I was raised in a small city and I have chosen to live in bigger cities my whole adult life. I love the pace, the culture, the food. I love being a hub for friends to come visit.

I love being able to walk out my door and have a variety of activities to choose from.

While in a city, I have also always lived by the sea. From Berkeley to New York to Spain back to San Francisco, being close to the water has always provided me comfort, stability and a huge natural resource to check in with.

When shit hits the fan, the city shifts suddenly. The beautiful cacophony of yells, music, trash cans, neighbors, garbage trucks and traffic simply transform into NOISE. The energy of being in a hub with interesting people who are eating great food and going to interesting events transforms into OVERWHELM.

It is in those moments of personal chaos, there is no other option but to seek nature. It is simply to save myself that my feet must touch the sand, I must stand at the edge of the ocean, and remember how small I am. How insignificant this problem is. How the world keeps turning no matter the heartbreak, sorrow, turmoil, joy, drama or worry we carry.

On days when I can barely function, I get out of the city. I cook myself some food, pack a picnic, drive myself down the coast, take off my shoes, put my feet in the sand. These moments when my feet touch the ocean remind me that I am alive. The way my body feels laying in the warmth of the rays of sun help me to feel protected in the chaos of nature. It was only there that I found solace.

While the sea has been a great resource to me, I got an idea, a whisper, an intuitive feeling that the mountains were what was calling me this year.

I can't wait to see what comes of the trip, what adventures come. I can't wait to come home with clarity, and mental space and feeling resourced.

John Muir said it best -