Sense of place is important to me. This might seem odd because my geographic location tends to be sporadic, and my plans ever evolving. But it’s there.

And for me, sense of place and sense of purpose tend to intertwine. Meaning without both, one alone tends to fall short. I’ve gotten better at going with my gut over the years when it comes to choosing life direction and angle of pursuit toward my goals. That also meant that I started moving around a bit more and exposing myself to new things and new groups of people again and again. This has made me really comfortable with transition, with forging into the unknown, and with adaptation. That practice of exposure has also given me a lot of friends in a lot of places; really great, genuine, hilarious, intelligent, and caring people. I’m really thankful for all of them and for the experiences we share. I feel pretty frickin lucky to be so fortunate. To those folks: If you’re reading this, know that I appreciate you a whole hell of a lot.

The hard part about pursuing goals in multiple directions and locations is that it usually means disengaging from those groups, at least in some capacity. They’re still there of course and I’m still a part of them when I’m able to circle back. I’ve also gotten really good at being alone, and my independence is something I really value. But the drawback to the constant state of moving around is that at times, it can certainly be lonely. Rejoining groups feels different because they’ve changed in your absence. Waking into a room full of strangers is rewarding when you connect, but a challenge every time. People contribute to my sense of place and sense of purpose. So does my proximity to the outdoors. As does what I choose to pursue.

The alignment of those things creates such a positive equilibrium for me. Getting active outside has become a fundamental pillar of my own self care because it’s impact cascades across all facets of my life. I’m missing being in the Tetons a lot these days. And I miss being on my snowboard. I’ll be back to both soon. Sometimes I feel like a snickers commercial, except the “you’re not you when you’re hungry” is “you’re not you when there’s no snow”.