It had been almost 11 months since I’d jumped the big pond with 50 other people. 11 months since I’ve tagged teamed back to back flights across the world with an 11 hour bus ride. 11 months since I’d been on the world race.

Yet here I was again, loading up my backpack with a few pair of clothes and a hammock to add to the ever-growing city within our squad; a bit more packing savvy and a lot less worried with the thought of not having enough.

And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hard. Leaving this time brought a heaviness and a sadness beneath the excitement. The life I had come to love was about to change again and letting go felt a lot harder.

But the sign on the unlocked door said follow Me.

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