For the past few weeks, I’ve worked on this post. I’ve revised it about a million times. I’ve looked for inspirational ways to grab your attention, to fully immerse you in what I’m about to say.
In the end, I just decided to skip the motivational mumbo jumbo and get right to it.
For those of you who know me, personally, or just by reading this blog, know about my obsession with Iceland. I’ve wanted to go for Iceland for a very, very long time, and I’ve certainly talked about it to family, friends, and co-workers for just about forever.
But I can’t recall ever explaining why.
This is why.
In 2007, I was working for a custom apparel company. I was invited to go to a tradeshow out in Long Beach, California with my boss and my friend, Emily. It conveniently fell on my winter break from Temple University, so after hanging out at my parents house in Rochester for a bit, off to California I went. After a week of talking about organic clothing and steaming the wrinkles out of t-shirts, we hopped a flight back.
Prior to that trip, I had never been a fearful flyer. Planes meant arriving at a different destination, which was (and obviously still is) extremely appealing to me. On this particular flight, I was relaxed, comfortable. Emily had just fallen asleep besides me. It was peaceful, serene, and I was looking forward to heading back to school.
We were still, then, we weren’t. The plane jolted forward, then dropped. Emily was thrown, up into the top of the plane, immediately waking her. People started screaming. The beverage cart shot down the aisle with the attendant still holding it. I gripped the armrests and within those few minutes (it really was only a few minutes), I really thought that I was going to die.
We had hit an air pocket. The pilot quickly recovered and we made an emergency landing in Denver. Passengers burned from the scalding hot coffee needed medical attention, as did the ones who were having panic attacks. A very shaken Emily tried to hug me when we landed, but I was completely still. Silent.
I got off the plane and immediately switched my flight to Philly. My entire body was stiff for the entire flight back. With every bump, every little dip, panic shot through my body. At 20, I was faced with my own mortality and it was sobering.
To date, I’ve never had a more terrifying experience.
After my flight landed (safely), I went into the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water. My hands were trembling as I twisted the faucet. I was desperate to grip to something, anything that distracted me from my anxiety.
The distraction came in form of an abandoned book on a nearby sink. Curious, I picked it up, tucked it in my backpack, and headed to the train. I read the book cover to cover within a day or so.
The book talked about Iceland. The way the author described the Northern Lights, the geothermal pools, the quiet, sleepy city of Reykjavik…. I clung to that, the thought, the idea of this magical place. That night, when I went to sleep, I felt… assured, again, hopeful. I felt something shift in me, and an awareness about the fragile nature of life emerged.
That feeling, although sometimes buried beneath the surface, has never completely left me. For the years following, I’ve dreamt of not just Iceland, but the world. I’ve longed to open myself up to it. I don’t think a single day has passed that I haven’t thought about dropping everything and buying a one way ticket somewhere, anywhere. I always planned to, even when it seemed like it would never happen. I never lost hope.
The plane experience contributed to an overall perspective I have about life — to live without limits. With every disappointment life has handed me, every mistake I’ve made, every bad day or fleeting sadness, I’d try my best to channel that energy into ambition. Which brings me to my life now.
A few months ago, Alessio Madeyski interviewed me for the “Meet Your Marketer” series on his blog. We talked about SEO in Philly, my career thus far, and my obsession with unsweetened tea. The last question he asked me was if I could choose anything, what I would want to do for the rest of my life.
Of course, I replied, “I’d probably move to Iceland and write travel guides.”
It hasn’t been too long since we did that interview, but within that time, so much about my life has changed. The last year or so of my life has been very similar to that plane ride – full of unexpected dips, emergency landings, and rescheduled routes.
It’s caused me to reevaluate where I’m at. The bumps and arm rest clenching moments have reawakened that dedication to living fully, with intention, without limits. Suddenly, going to Iceland, being a travel writer, seeing the world, a year, two years, five years from now, wasn’t good enough.
So I booked a one way ticket to Iceland.
Seriously.
After seven years of dreaming, seven years of telling people I wanted to do this, I ultimately decided I was going to find a way to make it happen. I started reaching out to connections, getting advice from old mentors. I established a partnership with Iceland Excursions and Arctic Adventures, both tour companies in Reykjavik, and they agreed to let me blog and photograph my way through their awesome excursions through the end of August. After that, rather quickly, things started to fall into place.
My landlord found new tenants within a week. Furniture I had posted on Craigslist finally started to sell. My friend Elizabeth offered to foster Russell. Bonus awesome, my boyfriend Mike and his beard, Raul, decided to come along with me.
A small part of me will always be that scared girl from the plane. I lost something that day, an innocence, an naivety about being guaranteed a full life, but I gained a bigger part of myself.
I understand now that the risk of not living fully is greater than any risk we take to achieve our ambitions. Not embracing our true selves, pursuing our true paths, only leads to regret.In such an uncertain short life, none of us can afford to take that risk.
At least, I can’t.
So that’s my big news — come late July, I’m leaving the country with Mike and departing for Iceland. After Iceland, we’ll be hopping on over to Europe for a bit. You can follow my adventures here on Melissa’s 100, and my shared adventures with Mike on our new shared site, Go Hard Abroad. I’m thrilled to start this next chapter of my life, and even more excited to share the experience with all of you.