Another year, another rollercoaster ride more thrilling—and chilling—than the last. I redefined resilience again facing the fears that lurk in the shadows as they came out to play in the light. The earth shifted beneath my feet as the rug was pulled and the life I took for granted swept along with it. Not a literal earthquake like the one I lived through in Costa Rica but a natural personal disaster that rocked the foundation of my being. No bricks or debris fell from the sky, just a crushing weight of responsibility making it hard to breathe. 

Fortunately, I have learned to slay through adversity like a warrior. Despite leaving the UK so long ago and retaining little of its culture, the words of my quintessentially English father echo through my brain in challenging times. “KBO darling, KBO.” If you don’t speak British, “KBO” means “keep buggering on.” At least, it does in my father’s world. Not exactly one of those bumper sticker affirmations that incite you to seize the day; rather, the kind of gritty tenacity that overcame two world wars. We fight on—we bugger on—because there is no other choice. 

Grateful for the Good Stuff

Looking beyond recent trials, there is so much to be grateful for since my last trip around the sun. I’ve covered many more miles and forged a million new memories (mostly reminiscing over old ones) with the amazing humans who have illuminated my path. Old and new, young and not so young, some of the most beautiful souls on the planet have crossed my orbit this year, sending me motivational videos when I needed them or being my wing-woman at an evening with the Sheikh in his palace. What can I say? I live an unconventional life.

I found myself back in the streets of Vancouver where I spent so many magical moments in my 20s, basking in the light of the Pacific Northwest, so different from the Middle East. I somehow shed 20 years and reunited with old best friends who had also barely aged despite the passing of time. I strolled the familiar streets like a local and passed my old apartment where I had hung upside-down from the 20th-floor balcony railings, being young, dumb, and entirely fearless. I miss the absence of fear.

So much had changed and yet nothing at all. We drank cans of beer from a cooler as we sprawled out on the familiar sands of Jericho Beach, where the same logs were still dotted about, the squirrel population had grown in numbers, and the hostel we had slept 10 in a room welcomed new generations of travelers.

We put the world to rights once more with almost as much energy as we had two decades before and as the summer light dimmed into the evening, the memory will warm my heart forever—as will the goofy photos and age-identifying dance moves. I took a seaplane to visit my cousin on Vancouver Island flying over the mountains, forests, and the Pacific Ocean, captivated by the beauty of the land I called home. We spent a six-hour lunch filled with laughter, banter, and beers. It was every bit as amazing as it sounds.

I will preserve these memories until I am old and senile and peeing into a diaper, because in the end, what is left but the memories of the life you have lived?

Gypsy Spirt Forever

I had the honor of being the “not best man” at my best friend’s “not wedding.” I’m not sure how well my speech went but the audience was kind, and, most importantly, I still carry our deepest secrets to the grave. I’m proud as hell that one of the women I admire most in the world trusted me with a microphone on her special day.

What else happened this year? Miami, Lisbon, Bali, Oman, riding the world’s most terrifying sledder on the slopes of ‘Mount Doom’, and contemplating the neverending expanse of Zanzibar’s waters. I had a whistlestop visit to another of my soulmates during an eleven-hour layover in Dublin, where the 4-degree drizzle caught me off guard in mid-October and the conversation and laughter flowed as freely as the wine.

Nostalgia seems to be my buzzword this decade and Bali was like closing a chapter. I wanted to take the kids back to the place we had all evolved as people. Where my son started to run, my daughter taught herself to swim, and I found the courage to move forward.

Surfing the Indonesian waves, reconnecting with special people, driving in the insanity of the moped-filled streets, and sharing a beer with Australian surfers. Bali brought a smile back to my face, but Zanzibar touched me the most. Like a forbidden fruit, Zanzibar stuns with its turquoise waters and pristine beaches, sunshine, and tropical vibe. But like a thorny rose, the beauty comes with a spine.

The never-ending horizon is filled with sea urchins that spike you and creatures that sting. It’s an unforgiving terrain littered with a fascinating cast of characters; seafarers, necklace sellers, mothers with babies wrapped on their backs, and seven-foot Maasai warriors, blended together in the blistering heat. The kids had never seen such poverty or experienced as much boredom with no wifi and “nothing to do” but relax and admire the view. 

Zanzibar felt like a prison as I endured their ceaseless complaints and tantrums until we were all just forced to slow down and observe the snapshot of life on the East African island. We resorted to the simple things you’re supposed to do on holiday; board games, books, conversing with other guests, collecting shells and sea creatures, and devouring different tropical fruits. Time stood still and the neverending whirlwind slowed down for a minute.

The Storm That Flooded the Desert

This year brought the worst flood in 75 years to the UAE. But since Dubai was little more than a fishing village with sparse edification, three-quarters of a century ago, the damage was less intense. With highways transformed into rapid rivers and entire neighborhoods plunged underwater, I earned my boat captain stripes, pushing the limits of my Mazda beyond the recommended, determined not to let it defeat me. Then I bawled my eyes out and shook with fear as sociopathic drivers in ostentatious offroaders sped past at the speed of a bullet causing waves to ratchet at my windows. 

The sun came out immediately after as it tends to do in the UAE and we were back to normal in no time despite the appearance of a few new lakes. Lucky for us, our house was unscathed and the cat managed to find his way home.

The Soundtrack to My Life

I came across this old music video from the 90s last year and it has become the soundtrack to my life. Give it a listen and then listen again. The lyrics are pure gold if you’re old enough to understand them.

Here’s one of my favorite lines:

“Do one thing every day that scares you.”

It’s made me up my game.

Here’s another:

“Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few, you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get the more you need the people you knew when you were young.”

The older I get, the more discerning I get with my time—and my friendships—and the more I appreciate the ones I have. I will kick off my next year of life as I end this last one with a reunion in Helsinki with more best friends from my University days in Buenos Aires. Argentina remains one piece of my life’s puzzle I haven’t put back into place. I don’t think I’m ready yet. It takes courage to seek happiness in the place where you lost it, a good friend taught me that.

I still carry la tierra celeste with me. Legendary Argentinian folk singer Mercedes Sosa sang:

“Gracias a la vida, que me ha dado tanto. Me ha dado la marcha a mis pies cansados, con ellos anduve ciudades y charcos, playas y desiertos, montanas y llanos.”

My tired feet have taken me far as well: To cities and countryside, beaches and deserts, mountains and planes. The journey ahead is still long with many more miles to go. Happy birthday to me and happy July 4 to all my American friends!

“Loss, shame, fear, and regret may they be cast down the drain. Happiness, friendship, wonder, and hope may they fall from the sky like rain,” Christina Comben, 2024.