Lucy i totally get it. We have talked about it before. I know the feeling of 'working summers' and then flying somewhere warm to do a 'working winter' and I actually had to call myself in recently from all the hate and anger I was projecting towards these guests and people enjoying themselves. I realize that I just also want to enjoy myself. I want to relax and enjoy summer or Christmas too. I want to be on the other side. Perhaps hospitality just has it's time limits for most of us. I don't think we were built for service for life. Maybe some people are. but I think most of us aren't and if your whole career has been built on it, it can feel impossible to get out. but it isn't. i believe in you, I believe in us. I believe we will have summers by the water care free, bank holiday weekends getting away to somewhere beautiful. Hold on girlie!
For sure, I was thinking of you as I wrote this, which is why I wanted to include the photo of us both! That's so true what you said, when you've worked in hospitality for so long (for me since I was 15!) there does come a point where it becomes an entire lifestyle and you do end up begrudging everyone you're serving if you don't check yourself. Even though I'm running my own business now, the stakes are higher, and so is the stress. It reminds me of someone Ben works with once a year, who's been in hospitality her whole life and is just one giant ball of stress who bends over backwards to serve the people she looks after, to the point she makes herself ill and has almost no days off or life outside of hospitality. It's a cautionary tale I think to get out while you can, or put some separation between yourself and your working life. I hope things are working out for you following the big shift you've had this year 💙
serendipity, when I see your post in the quagmire of attention grabbing clatter and it's immediately poignant and relevant. I just received ground breaking information from universal mind that has opened millennial opportunity, out of the blue these thoughts appeared after I too had relinquished (but not abandoned) my project. I cannot write unedited but suffice to say our salvation may always be totally unexpected, and aimed at the seeds of hope we scatter about and nurture in hidden places. The nature o the universe is I believe abundance, it can be no other way, and some though inside us resonates to the many gifts surrounding us in our quiet times. Of course I will elaborate once things flourish, but recently I have been practicing unmitigated gratitude to counter grief for the passing of an online pawed pal, I believe doubt is the enemy of fulfillment, and I supplant it with gratitude and hope at every appearance. "There can be on obstacle or undesirable circumstance to the mind of god, which is in me around me and serves me now." - Wayne Dyer, U.S Anderson. Don't lose the dream, but accept stepping stones.
I hope Ben is managing too, your epic return to UK as the lock-down engaged is still one of my inspirations.
Hi Clive, always lovely to see a comment from you, and wonderful that this post reached you at the right moment.
Your opportunity sounds intriguing, and even better that it reaches you at an unexpected moment.
I really liked your words on doubt being the enemy of fulfilment, perhaps that is where I am now, letting my doubts get in the way of progress. Hope and gratitude are far more encouraging emotions, and I will try to integrate them into my days more as you say! Stepping stones is a perfect analogy.
Ben continues to struggle with the joy and motivation for this project, even though he’s writing non stop to pay for it, but I hope we will both have a more positive outlook once it’s resumed.
Take care and lovely to hear your thoughts as always
First, let me tell you: you’re not alone in these thoughts and feelings. What you’re describing isn’t just something I can relate to – it’s something I could have written word for word. That feeling of having a dream that grows bigger and bigger until it completely defines you – until it becomes your very identity and the core meaning of your life.
And then, suddenly, watching that dream shatter. Feeling the ground vanish beneath your feet. Falling – endlessly falling. Not knowing if it’s worth pursuing that dream any longer, yet not seeing any real alternative. Trying to re-anchor yourself in everyday life – to build a routine again, reconnect with old friends, focus on career growth, work out – in short, doing all the things that used to bring joy. And yet, no matter what you do, there’s this constant mix of emptiness, disappointment, and grief that refuses to fade. This huge, gaping hole left by a dream that’s burst; no more traveling, no more being on the road – and not even another trip to look forward to. No vision of a life that would make such long-term travel possible again. And in my case, on top of it all, suddenly no longer having a partner to share that dream with – someone to work toward it together.
Sometimes I wonder if this is the price you pay for the incredible experience of long-term travel. If, once you’ve seen the beauty of this world every single day in all its facets, felt that boundless freedom, met fascinating new people, and lived the bliss of a simple, stripped-down life in a van – not as a holiday, but as your life – whether you can ever truly return to the comparatively dull, uneventful, monotonous day-to-day existence so many people in our society lead. It feels like a curse: I wake up every morning, and the very first thing that floods my mind are images from my old travel life – the places, the encounters, the beautiful moments. But instead of feeling joy, it just hurts. I want to go back there, yet I have no idea how – or even if I should.
But this daily life feels so wrong too. When I get out of bed, I already know exactly how my day will look (just like yesterday, and the day before, and the week before that). And deep down, I feel I don’t want this life, I'm just not made for it. It never made me really happy, even as a teenager, but back then I couldn't point a finger on what was missing. Now, I know it. I want to be free, life a life that feels true to me, but instead I feel caged – like a canary in a gilded cage.
I thought it would get easier over time, that the longing would fade, that new opportunities and perspectives would open up. And they do. But nevertheless, every day I spend here feels wasted. Everything I do these days seems to have one hidden goal: to somehow get back the life I had. And yet I don’t even know if that life would truly make me happy again – or if I’m just chasing a feeling, a chapter that I might never be able to recreate.
What you said really struck a chord. I wish I had an answer for all of this, but I’m still figuring it out myself. Maybe it just helps to know you’re not the only one feeling this way 😌
Hi Thomas, thanks so much for the long and thoughtfully written comment! As usual I completely agree and resonate with everything you've said, and I'm so glad my piece of writing resonated with you too.
What you said about daily life feeling monotonous and wasted compared to all the colourful experiences we've had travelling is so true, I'd never really considered the effect that the contrast between those two had on me. Do you find it's so easy to just become numb in your daily routine, so much you even stop remembering what was so good about travel or how much you crave to be back there? I think it's a coping mechanism for us.
The hardest thing for us was like you said, having no trip to look forward to. That emptiness felt worse than having a deadline, even one that was really far away to look forward to. That's how we remain positive through all this working and saving money, so for you not having those plans I can imagine is quite devastating, and of course the big changes you've had recently too.
It's both very hard and liberating that feeling of knowing something is missing, that another life calls to you. Knowing you're destined for something else but being confused about how to achieve it or even what you want out of life sometimes. Yet when we're on the road, none of that matters, these existential questions just ruminate around our minds when we're still.
It certainly helps to know that you feel the same, I'm surprised to hear from others too who've felt this dissatisfaction. I hope you figure out what's next and how you can make it a reality; we're still working on that too 🙏
Ah Lucy I am so with you. I love the quarry that you took me too in Cornwall, it was magical. I love that we both love water, but I have to admit I am so much more comfortable in the wild open ocean than in the fresh water pools. I am scared of them, their lack of buoyancy, their dark, green and black waters scare me. I am always reminded of that one scene with the marsh in LOTR 2 hah! But I loved that you helped expose me to a beautiful experience. I will always be a salt water baby though. I wish you could have been there in Ireland, it was amazing! 12 Celsius and I went nearly every day. I am in love! It pauses everything else, and for a moment my whole body is on icy fire. I am addicted to it. I need it in my life!
That sounds heavenly! The water is lush this time of year- I spent 2 hours in the quarry yesterday- but it’s almost not challenging enough now that it’s so warm! I like the cold burn like you say. I bet the water was so clear in Ireland too! Funny how we’re opposites though- the sea scares me, or rather the creatures in it! But I find fresh water so calming once I get used to the location
You have put so eloquently a topic that I have been debating internally for a few months now. In December I found a box of old photos, and decided to reclaim photos from facebook and online drives and got them all printed so I could document my life through a series of albums. I abandoned the project shortly into the new year, bc I came to the conclusion of 'why am I doing this?' who is this for? what if I don't have kids or a spouse or anyone who these will ever matter to but me? i needed time to digest, the project felt right to pause, but I know I will resume it. Meantime, I think I want to save up for a typewriter! I love how intentional you are with your journaling practice Lucy! And you write so beautifully!
Thank you for sharing this 💙 That sounds like such a great project, certainly a lifetime's work so worth just chipping away at bit by bit, even if you don't know the end goal yet. Imagine 100 years time your archives end up in a museum, and people are astonished to see how we lived 100 years ago! You never know eh? Love that you also want to get a typewriter! I will warn you though, even the one you see in these photos is 'travel size'– not very portable for someone who moves around a lot! But so much joy all the same.
hehehe when you read my newest post you will see the hint i make that I want to start to slow down a bit. i think i am ready to carve out a life where I have space for a typewriter and can own my own coffee mugs :)
Really enjoyed your thoughts Lucy. What a beautiful and gracious start to life you enjoyed and i definitely think we should change the spelling of croissants to yours! I probably only ate my first croissant when i was an adult but one child hood memory i have is of going out into town every once and a while with my maternal grandmother who lived with us and she would treat me to lunch : tomato soup, fish and chips and then a chocolate eclair!
Aw thanks so much for reading! And I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed it 🥰 Aw that's such a lovely memory you have, even the simplest things feel so special when you have those memories to look back on (my grandmother always used to feed me crispy pancakes and homemade stew!)
Lucy i totally get it. We have talked about it before. I know the feeling of 'working summers' and then flying somewhere warm to do a 'working winter' and I actually had to call myself in recently from all the hate and anger I was projecting towards these guests and people enjoying themselves. I realize that I just also want to enjoy myself. I want to relax and enjoy summer or Christmas too. I want to be on the other side. Perhaps hospitality just has it's time limits for most of us. I don't think we were built for service for life. Maybe some people are. but I think most of us aren't and if your whole career has been built on it, it can feel impossible to get out. but it isn't. i believe in you, I believe in us. I believe we will have summers by the water care free, bank holiday weekends getting away to somewhere beautiful. Hold on girlie!
For sure, I was thinking of you as I wrote this, which is why I wanted to include the photo of us both! That's so true what you said, when you've worked in hospitality for so long (for me since I was 15!) there does come a point where it becomes an entire lifestyle and you do end up begrudging everyone you're serving if you don't check yourself. Even though I'm running my own business now, the stakes are higher, and so is the stress. It reminds me of someone Ben works with once a year, who's been in hospitality her whole life and is just one giant ball of stress who bends over backwards to serve the people she looks after, to the point she makes herself ill and has almost no days off or life outside of hospitality. It's a cautionary tale I think to get out while you can, or put some separation between yourself and your working life. I hope things are working out for you following the big shift you've had this year 💙
serendipity, when I see your post in the quagmire of attention grabbing clatter and it's immediately poignant and relevant. I just received ground breaking information from universal mind that has opened millennial opportunity, out of the blue these thoughts appeared after I too had relinquished (but not abandoned) my project. I cannot write unedited but suffice to say our salvation may always be totally unexpected, and aimed at the seeds of hope we scatter about and nurture in hidden places. The nature o the universe is I believe abundance, it can be no other way, and some though inside us resonates to the many gifts surrounding us in our quiet times. Of course I will elaborate once things flourish, but recently I have been practicing unmitigated gratitude to counter grief for the passing of an online pawed pal, I believe doubt is the enemy of fulfillment, and I supplant it with gratitude and hope at every appearance. "There can be on obstacle or undesirable circumstance to the mind of god, which is in me around me and serves me now." - Wayne Dyer, U.S Anderson. Don't lose the dream, but accept stepping stones.
I hope Ben is managing too, your epic return to UK as the lock-down engaged is still one of my inspirations.
Hi Clive, always lovely to see a comment from you, and wonderful that this post reached you at the right moment.
Your opportunity sounds intriguing, and even better that it reaches you at an unexpected moment.
I really liked your words on doubt being the enemy of fulfilment, perhaps that is where I am now, letting my doubts get in the way of progress. Hope and gratitude are far more encouraging emotions, and I will try to integrate them into my days more as you say! Stepping stones is a perfect analogy.
Ben continues to struggle with the joy and motivation for this project, even though he’s writing non stop to pay for it, but I hope we will both have a more positive outlook once it’s resumed.
Take care and lovely to hear your thoughts as always
Hey Lucy,
First, let me tell you: you’re not alone in these thoughts and feelings. What you’re describing isn’t just something I can relate to – it’s something I could have written word for word. That feeling of having a dream that grows bigger and bigger until it completely defines you – until it becomes your very identity and the core meaning of your life.
And then, suddenly, watching that dream shatter. Feeling the ground vanish beneath your feet. Falling – endlessly falling. Not knowing if it’s worth pursuing that dream any longer, yet not seeing any real alternative. Trying to re-anchor yourself in everyday life – to build a routine again, reconnect with old friends, focus on career growth, work out – in short, doing all the things that used to bring joy. And yet, no matter what you do, there’s this constant mix of emptiness, disappointment, and grief that refuses to fade. This huge, gaping hole left by a dream that’s burst; no more traveling, no more being on the road – and not even another trip to look forward to. No vision of a life that would make such long-term travel possible again. And in my case, on top of it all, suddenly no longer having a partner to share that dream with – someone to work toward it together.
Sometimes I wonder if this is the price you pay for the incredible experience of long-term travel. If, once you’ve seen the beauty of this world every single day in all its facets, felt that boundless freedom, met fascinating new people, and lived the bliss of a simple, stripped-down life in a van – not as a holiday, but as your life – whether you can ever truly return to the comparatively dull, uneventful, monotonous day-to-day existence so many people in our society lead. It feels like a curse: I wake up every morning, and the very first thing that floods my mind are images from my old travel life – the places, the encounters, the beautiful moments. But instead of feeling joy, it just hurts. I want to go back there, yet I have no idea how – or even if I should.
But this daily life feels so wrong too. When I get out of bed, I already know exactly how my day will look (just like yesterday, and the day before, and the week before that). And deep down, I feel I don’t want this life, I'm just not made for it. It never made me really happy, even as a teenager, but back then I couldn't point a finger on what was missing. Now, I know it. I want to be free, life a life that feels true to me, but instead I feel caged – like a canary in a gilded cage.
I thought it would get easier over time, that the longing would fade, that new opportunities and perspectives would open up. And they do. But nevertheless, every day I spend here feels wasted. Everything I do these days seems to have one hidden goal: to somehow get back the life I had. And yet I don’t even know if that life would truly make me happy again – or if I’m just chasing a feeling, a chapter that I might never be able to recreate.
What you said really struck a chord. I wish I had an answer for all of this, but I’m still figuring it out myself. Maybe it just helps to know you’re not the only one feeling this way 😌
Thomas (@edelweiss)
Hi Thomas, thanks so much for the long and thoughtfully written comment! As usual I completely agree and resonate with everything you've said, and I'm so glad my piece of writing resonated with you too.
What you said about daily life feeling monotonous and wasted compared to all the colourful experiences we've had travelling is so true, I'd never really considered the effect that the contrast between those two had on me. Do you find it's so easy to just become numb in your daily routine, so much you even stop remembering what was so good about travel or how much you crave to be back there? I think it's a coping mechanism for us.
The hardest thing for us was like you said, having no trip to look forward to. That emptiness felt worse than having a deadline, even one that was really far away to look forward to. That's how we remain positive through all this working and saving money, so for you not having those plans I can imagine is quite devastating, and of course the big changes you've had recently too.
It's both very hard and liberating that feeling of knowing something is missing, that another life calls to you. Knowing you're destined for something else but being confused about how to achieve it or even what you want out of life sometimes. Yet when we're on the road, none of that matters, these existential questions just ruminate around our minds when we're still.
It certainly helps to know that you feel the same, I'm surprised to hear from others too who've felt this dissatisfaction. I hope you figure out what's next and how you can make it a reality; we're still working on that too 🙏
Ah Lucy I am so with you. I love the quarry that you took me too in Cornwall, it was magical. I love that we both love water, but I have to admit I am so much more comfortable in the wild open ocean than in the fresh water pools. I am scared of them, their lack of buoyancy, their dark, green and black waters scare me. I am always reminded of that one scene with the marsh in LOTR 2 hah! But I loved that you helped expose me to a beautiful experience. I will always be a salt water baby though. I wish you could have been there in Ireland, it was amazing! 12 Celsius and I went nearly every day. I am in love! It pauses everything else, and for a moment my whole body is on icy fire. I am addicted to it. I need it in my life!
That sounds heavenly! The water is lush this time of year- I spent 2 hours in the quarry yesterday- but it’s almost not challenging enough now that it’s so warm! I like the cold burn like you say. I bet the water was so clear in Ireland too! Funny how we’re opposites though- the sea scares me, or rather the creatures in it! But I find fresh water so calming once I get used to the location
Very cool line ….. demands presence in a world that rewards distraction. Really nice piece.
Thank you so much! 🥰
You have put so eloquently a topic that I have been debating internally for a few months now. In December I found a box of old photos, and decided to reclaim photos from facebook and online drives and got them all printed so I could document my life through a series of albums. I abandoned the project shortly into the new year, bc I came to the conclusion of 'why am I doing this?' who is this for? what if I don't have kids or a spouse or anyone who these will ever matter to but me? i needed time to digest, the project felt right to pause, but I know I will resume it. Meantime, I think I want to save up for a typewriter! I love how intentional you are with your journaling practice Lucy! And you write so beautifully!
Thank you for sharing this 💙 That sounds like such a great project, certainly a lifetime's work so worth just chipping away at bit by bit, even if you don't know the end goal yet. Imagine 100 years time your archives end up in a museum, and people are astonished to see how we lived 100 years ago! You never know eh? Love that you also want to get a typewriter! I will warn you though, even the one you see in these photos is 'travel size'– not very portable for someone who moves around a lot! But so much joy all the same.
hehehe when you read my newest post you will see the hint i make that I want to start to slow down a bit. i think i am ready to carve out a life where I have space for a typewriter and can own my own coffee mugs :)
I got that! Slowing down isn’t always a bad thing. Also I have far too many nice coffee mugs, it’s an addiction 😂
Really enjoyed your thoughts Lucy. What a beautiful and gracious start to life you enjoyed and i definitely think we should change the spelling of croissants to yours! I probably only ate my first croissant when i was an adult but one child hood memory i have is of going out into town every once and a while with my maternal grandmother who lived with us and she would treat me to lunch : tomato soup, fish and chips and then a chocolate eclair!
Aw thanks so much for reading! And I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed it 🥰 Aw that's such a lovely memory you have, even the simplest things feel so special when you have those memories to look back on (my grandmother always used to feed me crispy pancakes and homemade stew!)