Finding my home

Every once in a while, a dream feels just a little too far away—dangling out there on the horizon, taunting you. And then, somehow, miraculously, the impossible happens.

Sports illustrates this best.

A tennis player stretches in an awkward, contorted position and, against all odds, sends the ball sailing over the net into the far corner—just out of reach.

A football player snags the ball with their fingertips midair, twisting through space before crashing to the turf with possession.

(And yes—who would’ve thought a gay knew anything about sportsball?)

You see that same kind of magic on stage, too. A performer gives everything—more than the audience deserves, really—and we rise to our feet, grateful and breathless. Bravo.

But sometimes?

The tennis ball hits the net.

The football slips through the fingers.

The performer stumbles under the lights.

In sales, we call it a numbers game. Show up enough times, swing enough times, and eventually—you connect.

So what does this have to do with a travel blog?

Well, this isn’t just a travel blog. It’s a diary. A space for reflection—for me, and maybe for you, if you’re here reading. And the parallels? They’re there, if you’re paying attention.

Sometimes, that dream trip—the bucket list adventure—is just out of reach. Like the Seychelles once was for me. I dreamt of it for over 20 years, ever since I saw that Travel + Leisure cover as a young adult. Then one quiet moment at Copeka Coffee in January 2023… a few clicks later, and it became real.

When I was planning to visit all seven continents in a single calendar year. I almost booked a cruise to Antarctica that would’ve let me see it—but not step foot on it. I came so close to settling. But then, a new dream was born. I wasn’t just going to see all seven continents—I was going to stand on them.

I almost made the wrong choice. And it would’ve stung.

But other times, the dream stays just beyond your fingertips and that’s ok. Maybe you just have to wait longer. I waited twenty years for the Seychelles, then years again for this digital nomad life that I am now living. Both have now come true after years of waiting.

And now? That’s where I’m at again, waiting.

How? Why?

Life happens, I guess. It’s not for lack of trying. Not for lack of passion or planning. Sometimes, the puzzle is just missing a piece—and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Knowing that doesn’t make it hurt less.

Sometimes, you just have to wait quietly in the wings for your moment—just like Macie Mae did after Mario crossed the rainbow bridge. (If you know, you know.)

I had a conversation with a cruise friend the other day. I said something I later went back to reread, just to make sure it didn’t sound too harsh

“Potential is a dangerous word.”

And now here I am, reflecting from the second-largest cruise ship in the world—Utopia of the Seas.

1,188 feet long. 236,000 gross tons. Floating luxury in motion.

I’m sipping espresso martinis. Watching world-class performers dive from platforms, glide across ice, dancer’s and singer’s on the main stage. This week has been—on paper—close to perfect.

And yet…

Something still feels just out of reach.

Not because I didn’t try.

It just… is what it is.

I did my part. The universe had other plans.

I sat in the sun—needing it after a month in Alaska. Tanning and sipping cocktails. Clapping for all of you out there trying your best too.

And even after all that wonder, I’ll still feel it—that tiny ache. That quiet whisper that says, There’s more. Something more. Just barely out of reach today, maybe tomorrow will be different.

Do you feel it too?

Some things are worth waiting for. I am not scared.

To the moon and back

—Cole, Spinning