A Lemon Pie Life of Full-time Travel

This is a guest post by Johanna Read, a writer who gets paid to travel. She chose to transform a crisis into an opportunity to follow a dream, and her story embodies the THRIVE mindset. I am so excited to have her share her story here. Also be sure to read about her travels on her site!

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Guest post by Johanna Read, TravelEater.net

I have always dreamed of a life full of travel. Exploring places I’ve read about in

books, scuba diving in every sea, seeing for my own eyes how history evolves, understanding the nuances of cultural etiquette, finally learning about art and architecture, and eating. Especially eating.

But I had expected to fulfill this dream later in life, after I’d paid off my mortgage, after I’d climbed the corporate ladder, after I’d maximized my pension, and after I’d had a proper retirement party.

Sometimes life gives you lemons and you need to change your plans.

In the space of a few weeks in 2012, I found out I was getting divorced and downsized. And it was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Everyone has some lemons in their life. Bad things happen to all of us. But it’s what you do with those lemons that counts.

If I had just the divorce or just the downsizing to deal with, I would have been devastated. But the two together meant I could try something completely new with my life. When life gives you a few lemons, you can make lemonade ... but you need to really squeeze those lemons and it can take a lot of effort to find the sugar. But when life gives you a bushel of lemons, why not make lemon pie?

I still can’t believe that I started living my retirement dream at age 43. Not only travelling, but writing articles and taking photographs that people actually want to publish (and even occasionally pay me for!). In the past year I’ve been on six continents, including a press trip to China. The majority of my hotels -- and sometimes exotic dinners, spa treatments and excursions -- are given to me free of charge, in exchange for writing travel articles. Oh, and they’re usually luxury hotels too! I’ve lost 25 pounds. My depression and anxiety are gone, and I can sleep through the night again. I can flirt in three languages. I’m perfectly ok with the unknown, in fact I think I prefer it now. I can go on months-long trips to countries I’ve never been, knowing not much more than which airports I’ll fly out of. My shyness is practically gone, and I can make friends anywhere. I’d always considered myself a happy person, but now I’m on another scale entirely. Not just lemonade. Lemon pie.

I’m not saying it is easy to make lemon pie. I’ve certainly had to make some sacrifices. I sold my half of the house to my ex-husband and invested every penny from it and my buy-out package. I own next to nothing. I wistfully remember my dental plan. For the few months of the year I’m home in Canada, I pay “family rate” rent to borrow my mum’s pied-a-terre (thanks Mum!). I’ll need to find another option in the next year or two before my mum moves in. I travel mostly in developing countries where the cost of living is low. What many people consider routine -- lattes, a movie, new clothes -- are for me the rarest of indulgences. But it was an easy decision to give up regular life in exchange for travelling the world.

I’m lucky that I don’t have children to feed or fund. I’m allowed to be a frequent house guest. I will eventually get a pension. I’ve lived my life in a way that made leaving the working world this early not impossible. I’ve always had a fear of debt and lived frugally. I jumped straight from grad school into my career, and sought promotion after promotion. I invested carefully. And if disaster strikes, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find a real job.

I can’t tell you how much I love my lemon pie life of constantly learning and exploring.

People often tell me they’re jealous. But with some planning and sacrifices, almost anyone can live their dream. There’s no need to settle for lemonade either -- make lemon pie.

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Johanna Read is a Canadian freelance writer and photographer specializing in travel and food. She's been to 48 countries (and counting!) and in the past year has been on six continents. Follow Johanna on Instagram @TravelEaterJohanna and on Twitter @TravelEater. Check out all her travels at TravelEater.net.

THRIVE Guest Post: Insatiable Hunger

I am so excited to share this guest post by Amy Oestreicher. She is an amazing human being who embodies a superhero spirit. She THRIVES despite everything she has experienced. I hope you find her as inspiring as I do.

"Follow Your Bliss" by Amy Oestreicher

I am, and have always been hungry. When I was a child, I was audaciously, passionately hungry for life, and theatre was my nourishment. I had one goal: Broadway or bust. As a performer, I was hungry to make a difference in the world. What attracted me to the stage initially was the ability to give to the audience, to offer something of myself, to make an impact on people. I was hungry to matter, to make my mark. My days were spent making hammy home movies, begging my parents for an agent as soon as I found out what one was, and dragging them to the city for countless auditions. I was hungry for my future – I strived for the best possible grades I could, applied to too many colleges, and really believed in the endless possibilities that my life could hold for me. I was raised believing that if I set clear goals for myself, with a bit of hard work and strategy, they were achievable. – I could experience life to the fullest and reap what it had to offer me with a bit of perseverance.

I experienced 18 years of this ravenous, insatiable hunger. But weeks before graduation, I was confronted with a new, unfamiliar, frightening type of hunger. Having woken from my coma, I have a fuzzy memory of a doctor standing above me, telling me I had no stomach anymore, I could not eat or drink now, and he had no clue if or when I’d ever be able to again. And suddenly my hunger ran deep – a helplessness in a world of uncertainty where childhood dreams and goals were replaced with the drive to simply survive. I was hungry for control of my life again, hungry for answers.

There was no “road map” to recovery for me, just the monotony and angst of passing each day wondering when I’d ever be able to eat or even swallow a single ice cube. Because I had no control or crystal ball, this was merely a wish rather than a goal. Life became scary, surreal – I could pick up food, smell it, feel it warm in my hands, but was forbidden to put it in my mouth, knowing that this old, familiar friend was now poison to my now-alien body, covered in bags, tubes, and adhesives. I felt stuck in a routine that was out of my control, a pawn in a dangerous game. My new goal: getting through.

I then made a promise to myself – as long as I was going to be hungry, I wanted to keep my old hunger alive too by setting tiny goals for myself – like trying to laugh once a day. These various mini-goals I set under a larger umbrella of the bigger goal I’d manifest each day, more like a desire that with enough dedication and faith would eventually come true: To thrive rather than just survive. I refused to feel like a sick hospital patient tied up with tubes, plugged in like a lamp, bags and drains leaking everywhere. Even though this was my physical reality, I fought against the feeling that I was weak or was less than person who could walk, live, and eat freely. Not being able to sing, or leap across a stage made me feel like I wasn’t myself anymore. So I did anything I could to reclaim my identity. Hungry for myself and for life, which once held endless wonders for me, I set a goal for myself to make a daily gratitude list, even in the bleakest of circumstances.

With an intense desire to let the world know that I was still eager to make that imprint on the world, I couldn’t allow myself to listen to doctors who thought I was too weak to do anything but lie in bed. A month after being discharged from the ICU, I landed the lead role in the musical OLIVER! – tubes, bags, starving, and parched. I was so hungry for my strength back that I put myself through my own physical therapy every day, and ended up leaping across the stage in CATS. I still wanted to make an impact on my community by teaching nursery school, learning karate, and working on a cabaret act.

With a new goal of fearlessness, I didn’t let my new restrictions extinguish my passions. Rather than avoid food, I became obsessed with it and learned how to cook, starting a food blog and making Thanksgiving dinner for 30 guests, still not able to eat a morsel. I played with my hunger by creating a chocolate company, entertaining myself for hours making edible creations for the business I had set up out of sheer starvation.

Eventually, I picked up a paintbrush…and my world changed. I found a way to express things that were too complicated, painful and overwhelming to put into words. The next year, I put hundreds of mixed media and acrylic creations in an art show, displaying work that expressed everything I’ve been through throughout these seven years. I didn’t expect a turnout, but was surprised by hundreds of guests who came to see what I had done all of these years, to know that I hadn’t just got lost in the woodwork. I was still alive, still vital.

I was unexpectedly betrayed by my own body, tested, dehumanized, and put back together, but differently, like a mosaic. Throughout the struggles, I have always kept that spark of hope in the back of my throat, that I’d be able to share my story, that I have survived this trauma for a reason: to reach out to the world, like I once did as a performer for something more than entertainment. After this detour, I still just want to give to the world, and now I can in a deeper sense. Now I know that my role in life is still to be that same passionate performer I once aspired to as a child, but now with the even greater gift of a story to tell.

At 28, I still hunger to my mark on the world, perform, finish college, and not let nine years of medical complications and frustrations separate me from my dream of education, connection, and spiritual fulfillment. I will still get there, perhaps by different means, and even a different end. Now with satisfaction in my body, real nourishment flowing through me, and true appreciation of little daily blessings, anything is possible. Hunger has taught me so much and will always be my intimate companion as I continue to crave inspiration, my mark on the world, and everything life can offer me. Life has taught me that goals aren’t always accomplished…which can be a blessing in disguise. Thank you hunger, thank you life, for giving the opportunity to discover new goals I didn’t realize I could achieve or even had wanted in the first place. You have given my life unexpected meaning by breaking the bonds of expectation.

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Amy Oestreicher is a 28 year old actress, musician, teacher, composer, dancer, writer, artist, yogi, foodie, and general lover of life.  Surviving and thriving through a coma, 27 surgeries and other trauma has inspired Amy to share her story with the world through her passionate desire to create and help others.  Piecing her life together after her initial dreams of performing musical theatre took on a beautiful detour into broader horizons.  Amy has written, directed and starred in a one woman musical about her life, Gutless & Grateful, has flourished as a mixed media and acrylic artist, with her art in multiple galleries and mounting dozens of solo art shows, and continues to share her story through her art, music, theatre and writings. 

More information on her unique story, as well as her creative ventures can be found at amyoes.com, and visit her blog http://www.allspiceandacrylics.blogspot.com/ for her newest art, music and inspirational musings.  You can also visit her Etsy shop at https://www.etsy.com/shop/AllspiceandAcrylics?ref=hdr_shop_menu