It’s July 4 once again, and my American friends are busy celebrating my birthday. I have lots to be grateful for this year, too. It’s been an epic one. Despite my tendency to recognize the achievements of everyone but myself, even I’ll admit I did pretty good. The last 12 months have taken me from Europe to the Middle East, from lush rolling hills and wild frothy waves to arid deserts and melting sunsets.

The differences have been stark and the challenges enormous. Would I have done it if I knew it would bring me to my knees, leaving me almost financially, physically, and emotionally crippled? Would I have taken on the bureaucracy, the formidable school run, or managing our lives in two continents simultaneously while full-time working and parenting? 

Well, probably, yes, let’s be honest. This permanent state of discomfort seems to be where I am most at home. And the two little ones that accompany my path are arguably even more enthralled by the call of the unknown, and the chaos and wonder of it all. 

One of the kids’ favorite books is The Whale and the Snail, about two unlikely creatures that travel the world together. “She gazed at the sky, the sea, the land, the waves and the caves and the golden sand, she gazed and gazed amazed by it all, and she said to the whale, I feel SO small.” That snail is a kindred spirit. That story makes me feel so alive.

My 20-something self had it figured out when I wrote, “Nothing is more valuable than the memories I create and there is no greater gift than time.” But somehow I veered off track. I lost myself for a while. The cycles of abuse, trauma, grief, loss… life had become a burden. I felt far from the travelling gypsy with her head in the clouds and her passport in her pocket. No one dreams of falling into a bad marriage, or becoming a single parent. This journey has had its ups and downs. 

Last year, I raised a glass to health and prayed for this next leap into the unknown to succeed, personally and professionally. I scrunched my eyes shut and wished to recover my sense of wonder, and I prayed for friends to celebrate my birthday with. Today, I smile as I write these words and reflect on a year with many more stamps in my passport and memories that will endure for life.

Of lush green jungles and ramshackle markets, opulent mosques and 5-star hotels. Crisp Omani bread and dancing dolphins, the clicking of geckos and the thrill of the waves. The shriek of crows circling at prayer time, Karaoke bars, bratwurst and kimchi, spluttering tuk tuks, towering skyscrapers, and expensive bottles of wine. Paddling pools, play dates and parks, breaking-down rentals, and dancing till dawn. Grinning from ear to ear at the kindness of strangers, and bawling my eyes out at the courage of my kids. Conversing with people from every corner of the world living their own stories and being part of mine. My cup runneth over this year. 

Without realizing, I gave myself the biggest gift of all for my birthday last year. I gave myself back the world. I feel like a little kid again staring at the map on the playroom wall, contemplating the enormity of it all. We don’t know what our fate will be, how long we have left on this planet or how many more 4ths of July we will have. As a very wise Portuguese lady said to me when her best friend’s brain scans came back riddled with tumors, “Temos que vivir intensamente”. Let’s suck out all the marrow of life for the blink of an eye we are here.

Tonight I will celebrate my birthday with friends in Dubai. Next month I’ll catch up with more in Portugal, England, and Canada. I’m everywhere again and surrounded by people who left positive memories in my mind and immutable footprints in my heart. The roll of the dice I threw last year took me many miles further away. Yet somehow, mysteriously, brought me closer back to me.