Who I Am
Hi! Thank you so much for visiting my site!
My name is Lyndsay. I’m 25 years old–and in the midst of a quarter-life crisis, as my husband Daniel says. Daniel is my number one adventure partner for life and has gone along with my every spontaneous whim for the past (going on) 5 years. Thus, he should be a familiar face in the majority of my posts. But just in case, here he is pictured below with me in front of the London Eye last summer!
We were both born and raised in Middle Tennessee, and we currently live there as well. While I often take Tennessee’s beauty for granted, I’m always curiously reminded of its splendor when I return home from a trip. Below is a photo of East Tennessee (because, you know, I take Middle for granted and don’t have a ton of scenic pictures on hand, so yeah–but, you know, it’s not all that different…the mountains are just…hills…and there’s a ton of rocks).
I’m currently a high school teacher at my alma mater. I teach English II and AP Language & Composition. Therefore, I get a lot breaks but not a lot of free time in between. I’m in my third year–I’ve been doing this since I graduated from UT Martin in 2014–and I’m still learning how to not take this job so seriously. That isn’t to say it’s not serious–only that not everything has to be! See below a photo of me looking like a student on Jean Friday (an every day struggle though) and trying not to take things so seriously. (P.S. I’M IN LOVE WITH BLUE WHALES.)
We also have a family. It’s pretty traditional: one boy, one girl, fairly close in age. And as you can see below, one hates selfies (usies?) and the other’s fairly indifferent. Pumba (left) and Lola (right). They’re pretty great.
Why I’m Here
My ultimate goal has always been to become a writer–like a published one. Currently, I’m working on an online Master’s degree in Creative Writing at SNHU. It’s been tough finding the time to keep up with classes (even just one at a time) and especially tough cultivating the creativity needed to excel in those classes. That isn’t to say I’m not creative (as I do want to be a fiction writer); it’s just that I’ve felt creatively stunted as of late and most of my free time is spent thinking about the classes I teach (and my next adventure).
In any case, I recently decided that I just needed to write–regardless of what type of writing it is. I read travel blogs daily, and after I visit a place, I’m always thinking, “Man, I wish someone would have told me that”–or that I had found a blog which told me that. And people I know are always asking me questions about traveling: how, when, who, and where? It occurred to me that I could be that person, that I could tell people the how, when, who, and where. I’ve never considered myself to be an expert–and I certainly still don’t–but I’ve realized I do have some insight, that I do have some things to offer. And that is a wonderful feeling.
Why I Travel
I like to think that I’ve been consumed by wanderlust my entire life, but I know that that isn’t the case. Up until several years ago, I quite unintentionally perceived certain things as impossibly far out of my reach–this act of doing so, of perceiving them as so, far outweighed any thing else that would have allowed me to make concrete plans to explore, to see something more. And I’ve found that this accident is common in many people, who are quite ironically “blissfully” unaware that the reason they do not travel (despite wanting to) is of their own doing, their own fault.
In any case, my own enlightenment came on slowly. In 2014, on our honeymoon, I was overwhelmed by Miami, the city where we boarded our cruise ship that would take us to Key West and Cozumel. I thought I was something–lucky even–and that it was just one of the perks of being on one’s honeymoon. I didn’t know then that there didn’t have to be a special occasion in order for one to live one’s life fully. The vastness of the sea awakened some of that desire to be “awed” that I now have. The chaotic and wild drive on a scooter around the entirety of Cozumel and roaming the secluded beaches on the far end awakened that sense of adventure and freedom that now calls me. It wasn’t enough though. We did nothing the rest of summer or during fall or Christmas break or the following Spring break (I loved the “rest” from school).
The following summer, on our first anniversary, we spent a few days in Savannah and another few in Charleston, and it was great, memorable, new to me–a novelty to once again travel “so far” and to see so much. I grew up camping by the lake. The same lake. The fiver. The same river. I saw the ocean for the 1st when I was 12, in 2004, and did not see it again until I was 20, in 2012. The third time was on our honeymoon and the fourth at Tybee Island (near Savannah that summer).
After the trip to Savannah and Charleston, something inside me changed or lit or broke or sparked or….something, and I suddenly became restless and overwhelmed by all the life I hadn’t yet lived–the experiences I had yet to have, the places I had yet to go. I began recalling all the places I had told myself I would one day go and all the things I would do, and in doing so, I was consumed by a stinging sense of betrayal. I felt that I was betraying my childhood self by not doing the things I had told her I would “one day” do. One day. It just didn’t seem fair to her or me.
Then I realized that tomorrow is always tomorrow and that you have to make one day TODAY. It’s common sense that a trip to Paris doesn’t just fall into one’s lap, but the vast majority of people behave as though it will “one day.” It is the strangest phenomenon. No one is deluded by how much effort it personally takes to actually just go; however, it is precisely that effort that is forgotten and overlooked to the point of absolute passivity.
So I realized I would just have to do it. And that was all. I began saving. I began planning. And that was all. It became a reality because I just did it. And that’s what I tell others. I tell them to just do it. I plead with them to just do it. Because I know that just doing it changes everything.
Where I’m Going
This year’s plans include a week long trip in Iceland in March (and an abundance of detailed posts to follow), a mystery anniversary trip in June (mystery as in we still have no clue), a road trip to Glacier National Park in Montana in June, a week long trip in Greece in July, perhaps one more trip to somewhere around that time as well, a mystery trip in October, and several more day hikes in and around Tennessee in between!