goodsoulsailing

Home is where the heart is. And the truth is, my heart has always been with my kids, my family, and the people we love. That never changes whether we’re tied to a dock in Grenada or sitting around a table back in Canada. The people we love are home. Always. But somewhere along this journey, I discovered something unexpected. For the first time in my life, I fell in love with a home itself. Not because of square footage or possessions or stability. Honestly, I never really cared much about...

Most days out here are really, really good. There are sunsets that stop us mid-sentence. Salt in our hair. Kids laughing off the bow. Laughter and friends at sundown. That deep, quiet gratitude that settles in when you realize that you chose this life and it chose you back. But this week? This week has been a low. We are stuck. Engines waiting on parts. Waiting on people. Waiting, waiting and more waiting. Friends we care about are one by one lifting anchor and sailing on, and we still sit...

One of my main concerns about leaving life on land (besides, of course, leaving some of my family behind) was not having a sense of community and friendship. I place a really high value on my friendships, and I am incredibly lucky to call some of the most amazing people my besties. I’m the type of person who needs friendships the way most people need water. I worried that it would be hard to make friends, like real friends. The kind that fuel your soul and give you energy. I had this idea...