York Harbor, The Southern Coast of Maine. Beautiful houses and colorful lobster shacks dot the coast of the rock-laden seascape. The spritz of the sea feels frigid even in late spring.

I’ve said it before, and I will say it again: I think that—other than your education—that travel is really the only other thing that can give someone insight as to how the world works. It gives you a new perspective. Going out to find new places in the world makes your problems at home seem insignificant.

As a young professional trying to make my way in the world, I’ve had to leave loved ones and comfortable places behind in order to seize opportunities. Sometimes finding inner strength and independence comes at a sacrifice. Texas was comfortable for me. This new found feeling of nostalgia for home is not.

On a recent trip through the large Northeastern cities my husband and I decided that we could make a nice home for ourselves anywhere really. We could assimilate and become comfortable in Philadelphia, in D.C., in Manhattan, in Queens, in Boston (you get the idea . . .) . I really liked the idea of living somewhere off of the coast of Southern Maine like the photograph above. [I framed that photo and put it in my living room. It looks like a dream]. I can’t decide if this means that I’m/We are:

-unstable & not rooted, blowing like a tumbleweed
-or if it just means that we’re flexible & always moving forward.