Tag: dreams

Going Solo (Part 2)

carissaricci

“If a tree falls in the woods, but no one is around to hear it, did it make a noise?” This feels related to a more relevant question for today: “If we don’t take pictures of our experiences and post them, did they really happen?” (In case you’re wondering? Yes. I realize how old I sound when I say things like that.) 

As I’m traveling, I regularly battle against the desire to take pictures of literally everything. Each time I turn a corner, there is some beautiful sight to behold and the temptation to capture it is so strong. After a couple of days of fighting the urge, I made a deal with myself. I could take a few pictures of whatever I wanted, but then I made myself put the phone away and just stand in the moment. Taking it all in. The light. The sounds. The smells. The feelings. And I let myself say things like “I can’t believe I’m actually standing here looking at this.” I allowed the goodness to wash over me and didn’t move on until I felt ready.

Photography is a favorite hobby of mine, so it’s ridiculously easy for me to get swept up in capturing a moment while forgetting to actually be in the moment. The lesson for me in all of this is to slow down and intentionally be present in my life as much as possible. Much easier said than done—but a worthy cause.

Similarly, I had to resist the pull to see “all the things”. As I walked the streets, a little voice in the back of my mind would whisper, “How can you come to [insert city name] and not see [insert name of famous structure/art piece/park…]? If you’re not seeing those things, are you really doing this trip right?” As the days passed, it became easier to quiet that voice. And the people I met along the way helped me. 

My first impulse was to feel frustration at the unexpected turn of events, but then I realized that my word of intention for 2023 was TRUST. So I trusted. And I’m so glad I did.

About halfway through the train trip from Bilbao to Barcelona, we suddenly ground to a halt. Everyone around me was chattering away in Spanish and I had no clue what was going on. The woman next to me, seeing that I couldn’t understand, opened her phone and typed a phrase into Google Translate to let me know that the delay was likely going to be a long one—at least an hour. 

My first impulse was to feel frustration at the unexpected turn of events, but then I realized that my word of intention for 2023 was TRUST. So I trusted. And I’m so glad I did. That first sentence she typed into Google Translate turned into hours of us typing back and forth to each other—a friendship forged out of what some would deem a misfortune. I learned about where she was from, things she loved to do, and some interests we had in common. When she found out I grew up in California, she said something that I didn’t understand and gestured like she was a gorilla. My quizzical expression sent her back to her phone and she typed “Arnold Schwarzenegger”. I laughed and typed back, “It’s sad to me that’s what people outside the states think of when they think of California,” which then sent us both into a fit of giggles and a handful of Terminator jokes. 

It then hit me that I would need to try and contact the person who was supposed to meet me where I was staying to let me in. It was already going to be a late check-in, but now I wondered how in the world I was supposed to expect someone to stay up past midnight to let me in. His response? “I won’t leave you sleeping in the streets! And remember: there’s nothing to worry about, we are in Spain!” Another lesson in trusting. In believing in the goodness of other humans. In rolling with the moment. Everything has a way of working out—even if it’s not in the way we expect. 

Looking up in La Sagrada Familia

After arriving in Barcelona and getting a good sleep, I found myself in La Sagrada Familia the next day. I had seen it from the outside before, but had never been inside and let me tell you—if you’re questioning whether or not to buy the ticket, DO IT. It was one of the few places I’ve been where my breath was literally taken away when I stepped through the doors. I let myself marvel at every incredible view. As I wondered into each nook and cranny, I found this small area in a back corner with an agent standing at the entrance. He informed me that the space was for meditation, reflection, or prayer and that there were no pictures allowed. I agreed and entered. It was a chapel space with a few pews and only one other person already there—he left soon after I took my seat in the back. My intention was for reflection. I’m not a religious person and trying to meditate in such a spectacular setting felt like it was just setting me up for failure in such a mind-blowingly beautiful place. Good luck not getting distracted, right? 

As I sat there reflecting on my life, and in particular, these last few years—the tears flowed freely. The culmination of the “everything’s” and the intensity of those “everything’s”. Joy. Grief. Pain. Exuberance. Gratitude. All at once. In this transcendent space, I let myself feel it all. A woman walked in a minute later and my first reaction was one of embarrassment until I realized that she was crying, too. She took her seat at the other end of the pew I was sitting in, and we both took in the gorgeous light of the stained glass windows while feeling all the feels. I don’t know anything about her. I don’t know her name or what her life is like. I don’t know why she was crying. But in that moment, I felt inextricably connected to her. After I had processed what I felt like I needed, I got ready to leave. I looked over at her and she looked back at me. Tears still in our eyes, we each placed a hand over our hearts in acknowledgement of the other. A soft smile which was immediately reciprocated. And then I slipped out quietly, not wanting to disturb the rest of her time.

When I’m headed in the right direction, I now have deep clarity about what that feels like. Heart forward. Heart open.

When I finally stepped outside to get one last look at this massive architectural masterpiece, I felt an all-consuming warmth and contentment of spirit—and also a renewed resolve to continue following this path I’m on. Something has clicked in a big way for me on this trip. When I’m headed in the right direction, I now have deep clarity about what that feels like. Heart forward. Heart open.

Yesterday, I caught a train from Aix-en-Provence to Bordeaux and as I was waiting on the platform, three Italian women came and sat next to me, asking me if they were catching the right train. Trotting out the faithful Google Translate, we had a lovely conversation as we waited. When we parted at the transfer in Marseille, the woman I talked with the most thanked me for the chat, wished me a wonderful trip, and kissed me on each cheek with a “Ciao, bella!” and a hearty wave in farewell.

So, in answer to my previous question of “Am I doing this trip right?” The answer is YES. Absolutely. These new friends and moments of true connection mean more to me than any place I’ve visited. Although all of my experiences over the last few weeks will forever hold a special place in my heart, it’s the lovely interactions I will remember most—a vibrant reminder of our shared humanity. What a gift.

Going Solo

carissaricci

You know that phrase, “Wherever you go, there you are”? That used to hold such a negative connotation for me—as if I had to drag the heavy luggage filled with all of my pain and trauma behind me for the rest of my life with no escape. At some point along the way, I reframed it. It was no longer about fighting against who I am, but embracing it. One of life’s many great ironies.

I began to take each piece of clothing out of that luggage and make friends with parts of myself that I had previously tried to shove out of sight. In grappling with that process, I’ve found a peace and calm in my life that I didn’t think I could have. Does that mean everything’s perfect and I feel like that all the time? No way. It’s an ongoing process. I often have to grab that luggage, sit on the floor, slide the zippers, fling it open, and redouble my efforts to accept all the pieces inside.

To help me take the leap, I planned a trip—a big one.

For most of my life, I’ve been waiting for someone to give me permission to be who I am, to accept myself, and to do the things I know are right for me. Why? Because it feels safer to walk that road…even if it means not living life to the fullest. I’ve decided I’m no longer willing to make that sacrifice. The latest chapter in my story has been asking me to take a different way. To honor my truest self. To craft my own path and write my story in a way that honors my deepest longing.  

To help me take the leap, I planned a trip—a big one. I offered a few different friends the opportunity to join me, but it didn’t end up working out. I wasn’t necessarily planning to do it solo, but something deep down within me knew that it needed to be. As my departure date approached, I found myself feeling grateful. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have imagined doing something like this by myself, but lately, the yearning to explore has continued to knock at the door—louder and louder. And the thought of having the freedom to wander in my own way was eagerly beckoning.

To give myself even more of a challenge to step outside my comfort zone, I booked a few nights in a hostel dorm. I had no idea what to expect, but it has been one of my favorite experiences so far. So many kind humans have crossed my path, willing to share their tips and recommendations and allowing me to return the favor with my suggestions. After hitting it off with one particular dorm mate, we ended up spending the afternoon together on a trip down the river and then grabbed a bite to eat while swapping life stories and travel tales. One of many beautiful moments that will stay with me long after the trip ends.

The evening before, our hostel hosted a folk dancing night. Normally, this is something where I’d sit on the sidelines to enjoy it. But not here. Not only was I invited in, but I genuinely wanted to be part of it. There was so much joy and laughter exploding out of that room as we swung each other around, not caring if we “messed it up”…when we made a misstep, we just laughed harder. I went to bed that night with an incredibly full heart and a huge smile on my face.

So, what’s next? I’m currently on a train speeding through the European countryside watching the sun sink lower and lower in the sky, marveling at the beauty all around me. Not sure what my next few days of exploration will bring—and I don’t need to know. There’s so much joy in stepping off a train into a new town and getting lost in its streets. I have a few more weeks of adventuring to my heart’s content and I’m not rushing any part of it. I’m taking things one hour at a time and delighting in the unknown, which is new for me (but fits all the same). I have met so many wonderful people, and even though I’m traveling solo, I have never once felt alone. 

I know how I want to feel, and for now, that’s plenty good enough. My plan is to keep saying yes.

I’m only a little over a week in and my soul feels like it has been lit on fire in the best way. For the first time in a very long time, I feel completely in my life. This is giving me a small taste of so many things I want more of. I don’t know what the future is going to look like, but I’m okay with that. I know how I want to feel, and for now, that’s plenty good enough. My plan is to keep saying yes. To plane rides. To bus rides. To train rides. To trying new things. To making new friends. To living in other countries. To satisfying that curious wanderer in me. To continue expanding the edges of my comfort zone—all in pursuit of the continued returning home to myself. 

If you’re on the fence about jumping into something you know is right for you, but you’re feeling a little nervous about it, this is your sign. Take the leap. You’re not alone—I’m doing it right alongside you. We can jump together.

Homecoming

carissaricci

“Stop ‘should-ing’ on yourself,” someone once said to me. It made me laugh when she said it, and then I immediately realized how much I had been “should-ing” on myself my entire life. 

We are conditioned for it. Our upbringings, societal pressures, and life experiences can all lead us into massive amounts of self-limiting behavior. “I can’t do that.” “That would never work out.” “I’m not good enough for that.” I was adept at regularly telling myself those false stories.

In March of 2020, the real awakening began for me. I was staring down the barrel of the COVID pandemic lockdown, having just received word that my divorce was final. I realized that I had “should-ed” my way through too many years in a marriage that didn’t feel right and felt trapped in a job that was becoming more and more unhealthy.

For many people (myself included), lockdown was uncomfortable because it meant sitting with all of the hard feelings we usually try so hard to distract ourselves from or otherwise avoid. I was in a swirl of some of the most difficult feelings I’d ever encountered, and ended up spending way more quality time with myself than I would have preferred. Looking back now, though, it was exactly what I needed. Excruciating, but simultaneously freeing, it opened my eyes to how many dreams I had put on the shelf all in the name of “should”. How much I had lost faith in myself and given that power to others, all because I thought I “should”. How I let fear take the wheel far too often and, in the process, sacrificed the very thing that makes me a vital and vibrant human…being true to what I know is right for me.

I had tried so hard to live a more conventional life. Good job. House in the suburbs. Married. A dog. I didn’t have the white picket fence yet, but that was on the list for the following year. 

I was bored, miserable, and completely burned out.


When I started to question what my life would be like if I took those limits off, it felt scary. I liked plans. Order.

When I was younger, I used to pretend I wanted a more conventional life because I thought that’s what I “should” want, when in reality, I was in the corner flipping through National Geographic magazines and encyclopedias*, dreaming of seeing as many places as I could before I died. I aspired to be “successful” (i.e. good job, nice car, beach house) because that’s, of course, what I thought I “should” do in order to be accepted as someone who wasn’t a failure. As a teenager, I went on unhealthy diets trying desperately to shrink myself into an image of what I thought I “should” look like. I was a straight-A student. Valedictorian of my 8th grade class. Enrolled in Honors and AP courses in high school. Nothing was ever good enough, and running on that hamster wheel of “should’s” was exhausting. Always trying to fit into the boxes laid out for me, no matter how uncomfortable. Trying to cram myself into them was going to be the end of me.

Manzanita, Oregon
–
Dreaming big dreams while standing on this dune was
a pivotal moment in the returning to myself.

When I started to question what my life would be like if I took those limits off, it felt scary. I liked plans. Order. It felt good to know what was coming around the bend…or at least to have planned and overthought every eventuality so I could prepare myself for anything. 

In service of trying to plan for some of those worst case scenarios, I was frequently the master of the “What if….?” What if I end up penniless on the street corner? What if I fail? A good friend looked at me after a session of my “What if-ing” and said, “Yeah, but…what if it all works out?” I remember that now anytime I feel myself slip into catastrophizing. “What if…” can actually be a really empowering question.


Success means something very different to me now than it did a few years ago.

So, what does all this mean for me now? I’m certainly not perfect at it, but I’ve made some significant progress at keeping the “should’s” in their place. And my “What if’s…” are now reframed as dreams when I catch them peeking around the corner at me trying to entice me down the fear-based rabbit hole. When I used to think about the future, it would be 90% terror and 10% excitement. Now, it’s the other way around.

I’m completely in love with the fact that I’m no longer striving for a conventional life. I have been liberated now that I’m not trying to contort myself to fit into those boxes anymore. I don’t know the specifics of what the future holds, but I know this…I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and my dreams are no longer collecting dust on the shelf. Success means something very different to me now than it did a few years ago. 

I took the leap into a job that was much healthier for me. I’m going to be self-publishing a book that took me years to write. I don’t care if it becomes a bestseller—putting my creation out into the world is enough. I’ll be traveling overseas this spring and am counting down the days like a kid counting the days until Christmas. I’m pursuing a future that will allow me to live abroad and see the places I saw only in pictures as a child. And I will continue to run full-out toward the soul of myself again and again. No matter what. I hope you do, too.

*If you’re too young to know what an encyclopedia is, check this out and be glad you’ve never had to flip through an index with 8-point font and a 28-47% chance of finding what you wanted.