When I was a kid, I went to eight different schools. We moved from eastern Canada to west. Then back and forth from California a few times. I wonder if moving made me a bit of a homebody.

For someone without a current home, I dearly, truly, love all the trappings of home. Before I knew about dysregulation, I looked no further then my own bed for comfort. Tucked in with a good book, I could re-regulate myself fairly quickly. Sometimes I’d find comfort in my kitchen. I ground my own flour and baked bread or cookies or made a delicious meal, or even just toast and tea.

So how I wound up in Africa, and then Ireland, France and Rome in a single summer, is a little interesting.

That same summer I was back and forth from NY, here ( CT) and California. My best friend was in a cancer trial in NY (she needed a companion to stay with her there). My husband and I were remodeling a house near his parents and I was finishing up yoga training at home in California.

At my training, I met a friend who introduced me to the cofounder of @kidsforpeace , a nonprofit organization that was building a school in Kenya. She needed artists to paint murals so I signed up.

I didn’t even know how my early years of devouring my monthly National Geographic magizine had seeped into my bones. How my obsession with Born Free and love of other books about Africa would cause me such a visceral reaction. I had no idea how travel would change me.

I think it’s worth mentioning that, not one member of my family wanted me to go. Most were quite opposed actually. They weren’t up for me living in NYC either. Sweet to be cared and worried about, but I got myself there anyway.

I loved all of it. The town where the school was being built was tiny. I think the whole town hung out with us while we were there, particularly the children. Even the teenagers. I think they loved the art part the most. Several sat around me drawing while I painted. When I needed a ladder, someone MADE me one and the kids showed me how easy it was to go up and down. I had less than a week to plan, find paint and complete the mural. We didn’t know the size before we arrived so I didn’t have as much time as I would have liked. We had brought art supplies for the school, but there was such little time to demonstrate how to use them. Scissors we’re included and some of us thought since they hadn’t ever seen scissors before they were not a good idea. I had taught little American kiddos who couldn’t use scissors before, so I was sure they would be fine but I had to prove it. I sat down with a handful of boys and showed them once. All of them respectfully took a turn and of course had no problem. The director and I joked later that these were kids who used machetes, our school scissors would be fine.

When we were saying goodbye, I asked the teenagers what they might want from America if I could come back and bring them something. Everyone I asked said the same thing.

A book.

A BOOK?! Oh my heart. I mentioned that to our group on the way to our next location and many had heard this themselves. Right away we all started scheming ways to bring books to the children. Which we did when we went back the next year.

I will never forget those sweet respectful teenagers. They wanted me to have their drawings. Many of them were quite talented. The next year, I got to go back and teach both the teachers and the kids. I brought art books and they LOVED them.

Art can be a unifying force. I loved seeing that. The following year we brought a steel band along and watched how music (also art) unifies as well. We were a band of traveling artists and it was super fun for ALL of us, Kenyans and Americans alike. I have such fond memories, but what happened for me I think is that I saw myself differently. I didn’t HAVE to stay home, I learned, to feel calm and confident, I can take the Andie show on the road too.

With my growing tool kit of regulating tactics, I was good then, and I’m even better now. I like knowing that CPTSD is a thing, but it doesn’t have to get in the way of my life. Travel taught me that. That weird summer taught me that. Some things are nice to know.

It’s been a whirlwind of a month and I have been busy every day with things I don’t usually do.

Today is the day after Labor Day. A fitting time to get a routine started. I loved my life in California, I miss all my family and friends terribly. I also miss the rhythm of my days there. I miss my house. I miss having a place for everything and knowing what’s next. I miss my old routine!

I guess I will have to create a new one. It will include yoga and walking and work that I love. There will be art, new friends, and a new home. Some of these things I will need to be patient for, but some I can start today.

I remember my mother creating new routines after all of our moves growing up. We made some big ones as a family but my mother would establish order quickly and with efficiency. Supper would be made in make shift kitchens as she found what she needed while unpacking boxes. School lunches were made and we were off to school, returning to a more put together home. My mother loved routine and confidently worked to establish it. She taught me to bathe my babies at the same time every day because babies respond well to routine. She told me that bath time was the biggest happening in an infant’s day in the beginning so they would organize themselves around it. I’m pretty sure I did as well.

I hope to follow her example and find all of what I need to get myself on a schedule of sorts. I will be designing and curating the best life I can, one daily activity at a time.

I love a beach.

Summers as a kid were spent at our cottage. Driving along the water as we got closer was pure anticipation. Cousins, aunts and uncles, Grandpa!

My Aunt Maureen was a lifeguard so she could take us out when the waves were big. She taught us to jump the waves and to body surf. Every day was a beach day. We swam multiple times. I remember pulling on my least wet sandy swim suit and heading down the wooden steps. The last five were too big to manage alone so you needed a grown up to help.

We spent hours collecting rocks and shells and if you were really lucky, tiny pieces of blue glass. The beach meant summer and summer meant freedom and pure fun.

I took my own kids to a California beach that I came to also love. I logged hours watching them play in the surf. I ran and walked many miles on the sand and on the beach wall. I was there every day. Somedays more than once.

Luckily our adventure on the East coast is taking place in a beach town as well. Beaches here are less populated and calmer. No waves but the summer time vibe is alive, though fleeting. The beach is helping me ease into my new location. Spending time in nature can be many different things. I’m so glad that for me it means walking along a beach, feet in the water. A beach can be so regulating for me. I love it.