Three years ago I traded a stable agency career for a duffel bag and a rotating cast of dive sites, field stations, and community stays across 50+ countries. Edges of Earth started as an expedition and became a way of seeing the world I can't fully unsee. Here's what actually stuck.
Comfort is relative, and mostly manufactured
Fifteen years in an agency career had convinced me certain things were necessities. Three years living out of a bag proved almost none of them were. Most of what I thought I needed to function was preference dressed up as requirement. That's a genuinely useful thing to learn about yourself.
Real change is slower and less photogenic than it looks online
Documenting 2,500+ interviews across communities on the frontlines of the climate crisis taught me that meaningful progress rarely looks like a before-and-after. It looks like years of unglamorous, incremental work by people who show up long after the cameras leave. The stories worth telling are usually the ones that took the longest to happen.
Give more than you take, everywhere, not just in theory
Non-extractive travel isn't an abstract value until you've spent three years being the guest in someone else's home, community, or ecosystem. You learn quickly that showing up ready to listen and contribute your actual skills changes every interaction, compared to showing up to collect an experience for yourself.
The body keeps score, and expedition life cashes the check
Three years of field diving, travel fatigue, and inconsistent everything took a physical toll nobody warns you about in the highlight reel. Sustainable adventure requires actual recovery practices, not just willpower. I learned this the hard way more than once.
Home became a practice, not a place
Without a fixed address for most of three years, home stopped being a location and became a set of habits I carried with me. That shift outlasted the expedition itself. It's probably the most permanent thing that changed.
I don't know that I'd call this a "dream" in the way people mean it when they say that word. It's harder and less comfortable than that. But it's the most honest version of a life I've built, and three years in, I still wouldn't trade it for the one I had before.
