Real-life reflections on growth, creativity, and staying grounded.

Hello Rooted Readers 😎

Welcome to the June edition.

I'm writing this month's newsletter from our Airstream 600 miles away from home.

After months of planning, prepping, fixing, organizing, packing, repacking, and wondering if we were completely nuts for attempting this, Andrew, the dogs, and I are officially on the road for an 11-week adventure.

For a long time, this trip lived in the future.

It was something we talked about, put on the calendar, and imagined from every angle.
Then boom- we are here.

Isn't it funny how often life works that way?

We spend so much time anticipating the next thing - a move, a new job, a big decision, a dream we've been carrying around for years. We imagine how it will feel.

Then one day, "someday" becomes today, and the future is now present moment.

This month, I'm reflecting on this shift - adaptation, courage, taking up space when it feels scarce, and what it means to feel at home, even when life looks different.
🍄

Abby walking a dog along a campground road at sunset, with silhouetted trees and a vivid pink-orange sky stretching across the horizon.

Doing the damn thing.

It can appear glamorous, this mobile life. Maybe even simple. Effortless.

Let me sprinkle a little reality on that real quick.

👉 The truth is, making this possible has been its own epic adventure.

For months, our days, evenings, and weekends have been crammed with projects, decisions, problem-solving, and prep.

Camper repairs, car maintenance, vet visits, dental appointments, family gatherings, supply orders, house emergencies, arranging for support... not to mention strategizing my client and teaching schedules.

All we've been doing is working toward this trip.

And I'll be honest, I was so mentally fried that I questioned if it was worth it.
Uh, what are we doing this for again?

Now that we're here, feeling a sigh of relief, I've come to appreciate the journey even more.
Because this freedom, this lifestyle was created by all the effort that came before it.

So very often, we overlook this in our own lives.

We celebrate the leap. The new job. The business launch. The move.

A big life transition. The dream finally becoming real. 💕

Airstream trailer parked at a campground beneath a wide sky filled with dramatic summer clouds, with rolling hills visible in the distance.

In reality, the one big victorious moment is not the most courageous part of story.

Before these accomplishments are hundreds of small choices nobody sees.

The decision to keep going.
To learn something new.

To save the money.

To ask for help.

To trust that today's effort is building tomorrow's possibility.

Choosing to step into the uncertainty of a new journey takes bravery.

And sometimes the life we dream about is built long before we arrive in it.

Taking up space...
when there isn't any.

Two (large) adults.
Two (big personality) dogs.
25 feet of living space 😮

Life right now feels... intimate.

Physical space has become a commodity.

And energetically?
Phew- The challenge is real.

It's a daily Tetris of bodies and belongings, juggling a functional working and living space.

Cozy Airstream workspace with two laptops, a notebook, and a sleeping dog tucked into the dinette, overlooking a green campground through panoramic windows.

What complicates this even more?
Well, in full honesty, for most of my life I've made myself small.

There are so many reasons why this has been my reality: my role as a nurse, a woman, a younger sibling, learned patterns from navigating toxic relationships, and oh those people-pleasing tendencies...

It's served me well to be passive, agreeable, quiet, and deeply supportive of others.
😎 And it's made me a fabulous caregiver.

(It's also made me pretty damn unhappy at points in my life.)

Over the last few years, as I've moved forward on in my coaching journey, there came a time when shrinking myself was no longer compatible with who I was becoming.

Since then, I've edged forward into claiming my space as a human, coach, business owner, and leader. Allowing myself to be seen and heard.

And I'm still growing here - literally 🌱.

So... maybe you can imagine how confronting it feels to be living and working in an environment where space is scarce and privacy is minimal.

Working remotely from the Airstream couch, with two dogs sharing the space and making themselves completely at home.

Where I need to...
Ask for what I need daily.
👉 Room to work and/or recharge.

Take up space unapologetically.
👉 Get out of my seat, Gus.

Be patient, creative, flexible, and kind with myself and my travel partners.
👉 How can we all win here?

This summer feels less like a vacation and more like real-life practice

Practice staying grounded while stretched. Practice communicating clearly.
Practice understanding and honoring my needs without shrinking them.

Expanding and allowing growth to continue in new ways
- maybe with a dog or 2 on my lap - 🐕

You belong.

"You ain't from around here, are ya?"
Nope.

I'm... uh, visiting. 😍
aka: I'm a dumbass tourist taking a selfie.

In times in my life, I would have felt a lot of shame in sharing this.

Abby walking along a dirt road wearing sunglasses and a neck gaiter.

As young adult in Asheville, NC... it was culturally acceptable to be a bit territorial. Either you were a local, or you are an outsider, a tourist, (or if you were visiting from FL ... you were a Flor-idiot).

I'd like to formally apologize for my former judgmental self. 🙏

Especially because my tourist-ass has started to make a nearly-daily habit out of climbing up the hill behind camp in the NY Finger Lakes- past dozens of private property signs, aggitating unleashed farm dogs, attracting the attention of cows, field workers, and disrupting solitude of country living.

Despite feeling somewhat conscientious- I've triumphantly decided to embrace this place as home for as long as we are here.

So, what does that mean exactly?

Letting of who I think I should be in this place - and just be me. 😍

Lake shoreline with a wooden dock extending into the water under a clear blue sky.

Being the (crazy) lady who walks the hill and waves at everyone.

The regular at the local market.

Allowing myself to be seen, recognized, and share parts of myself with the community.

Connecting with the people who live here- learning their names and about their lives.

Embodying the belief that I belong here.

It's a conscious, daily choice- to decide not to be an outsider and allow my experience here to unfold.

I'm finding that it's genuinely the best of both worlds - feeling a sense of connection and reaping all the delights of having a beginners mind.

Enjoying the magic, the views, the feeling of newness- grounded in this temporary home.

Compact Airstream kitchen with a meal cooking on the stove, dishes drying by the sink, and limited counter space in use.

What's for dinner?

Hold onto your seats my fellow home-chefs...

The kitchen prep space in the Airstream is smaller than an 8.5 x 11" piece of notebook paper.

Maybe you've seen sexy photos on Instagram of of Airstream interiors and think: Wow!
How minimalistic! How simple!

These pictures show beautiful bouquets of flowers, a french press sitting alone on a clean counter, little shelves filled with dangling mugs and spices and dried herbs.

Sorry folks- this ain't no staged feng shui moment.

👆 THIS is what real life home cooking looks like in a micro-kitchen... dishes in all phases, ingredients on every open space, things hanging off the counters, dish rags, oil splattering everywhere, a dog under my feet.

Not pictured- The surprising amount of creativity this little kitchen inspires.

When you don't have endless room, tools, or options, you learn to improvise - get resourceful.

And, as it turns out, the best ideas show up when there isn't an obvious way to make them work.

Some of the most delicious meals we've ever cooked have been at camp.

Prepped on picnic tables, executed on the open fire using tin foil and cast iron, or on the gas stove.

Using the inside, the outside, in every combination with respect to the weather.

Abby cooking over a campground fire pit at sunset, with rolling hills and a colorful evening sky in the background.

We use local ingredients as much as possible - another fun challenge when the seasonal produce is limited.

Cooking has become one of my most favorite activities while living in the Airstream, it's an invitation to slow down, think outside the box, collaborate, and try something new.

I'll spare you a recipe this month and instead share what's been on the menu over the last 2 weeks. Maybe it will inspire you to try something new, get creative, or cook outside at your next opportunity. 😍

Abby holding a fresh bunch of asparagus inside an Airstream kitchen.

- Eggs and toast on the cast iron (local olive rosemary bread this week!)

- Stuffed peppers with chorizo & rice roasted on an open fire in an aluminum pan.

- Grilled bone-in pork chops and asparagus- finished with lemon juice and herbs.

- Seared sausages, skin-on fingerling potatoes on grill pan with onions & herbs.

- Chicken thighs cooked slow in red sauce over tri-color pasta with sautéed spinach & garlic.

Happy cooking, wonderful people 🙌

Abby standing on a wooded trail in front of a historic stone arch bridge on a sunny day.

Reflection Moment

Travel has a funny way of stripping away the layers of our identity.

When the environment around us changes, so do the cues we've come to rely on.

When my routines change and familiar comforts disappear- who am I?

Who am I when I'm no longer surrounded by the people, places, and structures that shape my daily life?

Close-up of a dew-covered grass seed head in a meadow, with morning light and soft-focus greenery in the background.

My clients and I run into this all the time.

So much of what we believe about ourselves is tied to context.

The roles we play.
The expectations we carry.
The environments we inhabit.

When that framework changes, something interesting happens.

Parts of ourselves we didn't know were there begin to emerge.

Old assumptions get challenged.

Forgotten interests resurface.

New possibilities come into view.

And sometimes we realize that who we thought we were was only one version of the story- and here lies an opportunity to know ourselves deeper

As you move into your summer... I invite you to get curious with me:

What parts of you remain true regardless of your circumstances?

. . .

What parts of your identity are ready to be expanded, challenged, or rewritten?

Worth Sharing

A few things I've been enjoying, learning from, or coming back to lately:

Dog lounging on an outdoor mat at a campsite with its tongue sticking out, enjoying a sunny afternoon.

Book:

A Shift in Being: The Art and Practices of Deep Transformational Coaching

Leon Vanderpol

Song(s):

Slow Mover
Angie McMahon

4th of July
Carl Broemel

Podcast Episode:

Stop Being Hijacked By Anxiety, Grief, and Anger - A Buddhist Approach

10% Happier with Dan Harris

That's all for now, beautiful people.
Enjoy the first waves of summer- the sun, the adventure, and good vibes.
Until next time, sending you so much love.

Thank you for reading, connecting with me, and shining your light.

Feel free to hit reply and share what's resonating, or pass this along to a friend.

Sent to: _t.e.s.t_@example.com

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