How to respond to joy and pain

It's official — We've hit 1 year of nomad life!

In 17 hours I arrive in Bali (a lifelong dream!!), while Edmond files to Thailand for a week.

Solo time is so precious.

It's the space for reflection.

The silence necessary for imagination.

It's time to miss each other.

To appreciate how far we've come.

And to decide where we want to go from here.

I'll be sitting in silent meditation.

Connecting to the feminine.

My husband will be Muay Thai kickboxing.

Amplifying the masculine.

All with the intention of uncovering what we need to know about the next chapter of life.

As it turns out, getting married and traveling the world while starting a business puts intense pressure on a romantic relationship. Surprise.

I feel proud as I reflect on how much we've grown together since we lived in Hawaii a year ago.

As we packed up our San Francisco apartment, I never could have imagined how much of a gift and a challenge this lifestyle would be.

We've been learning from some of the worlds top teachers in tantra, dance, leadership, entrepreneurship, intimacy, trauma healing, emotional release, and neuro programming - and what's the impact?

It's turning out to be so juicy.

We've seen the beauty and all the pain within each other. And we've learned how to stay with the discomfort, to hold each other and say — “I'm right here with you.”

We've fought about the small things, and hit roadblocks on the big things. And so we've started to ask “what's important to you about that?” to understand what's beneath.

We've owned attraction to other people, and solidified our devotion to each other. We've begun asking “what am I meant to learn from this other person?” and “what's missing in our relationship that I really need?”

We’ve broken through upper limits of joy and bliss, by noticing when we're self sabotaging the moment and asking ourselves “can I let in 5% bit more goodness right now?”

We've learned to slow down when we feel out of sync with ourselves or each other. We're stopping to notice the tension in our bodies and giving ourselves the space to fully feel.

It's been expansive and sometimes explosive to get to where we are.

Our first year of marriage hasn't been easy.

So as we drove along the curvy roads to drop him at the airport in Mallorca Spain yesterday, I asked him - if our marriage was only for a year, with the intention to decide whether we wanted to remarry each other again - what would you decide?

He smirks as he looks over at me, and says — of course I’d marry you again. No doubt in his words. I felt the same.

And whenever we're not feeling grounded in that truth, we've learned to acknowledge the vulnerable truth: “I'm feeling afraid, can I share it with you?.”

Our key lesson: we're in it together, through it all.

All the pain.

All the joy.

It's all okay.