on reconnecting roots and dreaming big for the coming year

Almost 23 years ago, I boarded a plane from Houston, Texas to London, England, to start a brand new life. I was single, in my early thirties, and determined to seek adventure: my employer was footing the bill for me to live in Old Blighty, and I was looking forward to jetsetting around the world, sowing all the proverbial oats I could.

Six months later, I met Marcus. Six weeks after that, we went on our first date. And 18 days after that, we were engaged.

How’s that for an adventure?

As we made plans for our life together, I assumed that since I was marrying a Brit, England was going to be my new home. But my employer had other plans: unexpectedly and right before we were to be married, I received a huge promotion — one that required a move back to Houston.

“What do you think?” I asked Marcus. “It’s not exactly what we were planning.”

“Well, you have to take it,” he said. “Besides, it will be an adventure. And anyway, we don’t have to stay forever. Let’s do it for a couple of years, and then we can move back.”

Man plans, God laughs.

It’s been 21 years since we married, and except for a couple of years in Trinidad (which, strangely, Marcus’ job took us to, despite Trinidad being my homeland), we’ve been in Texas. And Hurricane Harvey notwithstanding, Texas has been good to us. We became parents in Houston. We have good friends. My folks live nearby. But even so, we’ve never forgotten our plans to return — and Marcus’ family certainly hasn’t forgotten them. “Do you think you’ll ever move back?” they’ve asked more than once. “Someday we will,” we reply. And we’ve always meant it. But we didn’t know when.

But a lot has happened in more recent years to make us think more seriously about a potential move back. For one thing, our daughter (who is a British citizen, thanks to her dad) is 19 years old now and in university, planning her own future. For another, our return to England early this past summer for our niece’s wedding was a stark reminder of what we’ve been missing, especially since an earlier visit was scuttled by the pandemic. Since our previous visit, a brother got married. A young nephew was born. Family members have gotten older. And I’ve never forgotten that Marcus made a huge sacrifice in leaving his homeland and family to follow me to the States all those years ago.

So a while back, I said to Marcus, “We obviously can’t move now.”

“Riiight,” he responded.

“But if we retire within the next decade or so, that time is going to come faster than we think. Maybe it’s time for a foothold?”

And Marcus agreed.

So we began looking into what that might mean. We searched for options online, and the last time we were in England, we looked at options in person. There were lots of phone calls and emails to surveyors and solicitors and selling agents.

And then finally, this past long weekend we made a criminally quick trip to pick up the keys for a tiny one-bedroom flat in Bath, England. We chose it because it’s centrally located to all of Marcus’ family, who are scattered around the country. It needs quite a bit of work, but we’re up to the task.

And so begins a baby step to what looks more and more like eventually retiring in England. To show you what we might be in for, here are some photos I took over the last few days:

*No trip to England — no matter how short — is complete without a visit to a local pub.*

*I forgot how much I love gloomy English December days.*

Even though we’ve been working on this for the better part of 2023 (and honestly, saving up to make this happen for way longer), it feels fitting that it all came together at the end of the year. Because now, we’ll be figuring out what means to care for both of our families, who live so many miles apart — the true purpose for working hard to make this happen. And since I’m prone to thinking about all good things I want create for myself in the year ahead as the current year draws to a close, this feels like perfect timing,

It’s time to dream big for 2024.

*Prepping for my vision “board” (really just my journal opened flat) for 2024.*

Speaking of dreaming big: last week, I wrote about mining for the good of 2023. This week, I’m all about dreaming big for 2024. And as you know, I do very little dreaming without my journal. So I thought I’d share what’s prompting my reflections lately — I’ve been using these prompts for myself for a while now, and they always help me feel optimistic for my year ahead. I hope you’ll find them useful for your own big dreaming for 2024.

What does ideal look like for 2024? Imagine that you wake up exactly a year from now, in December 2024, and when you do, you realize that everything that you’ve been working for in your life over the past year has come true — you’re living exactly the life you’ve intended on creating. What does it look like? How does it feel? Where are you? Who are you with? Write it down in detail in your journal.
Come back to today. On a scale of zero to ten, with zero meaning, “my life doesn’t even resemble a tiny bit what I’ve just written that I’ve hoped for'“ and ten meaning, “wow, I’m already living that life, no work to do here,” where are you? Be honest and thoughtful about the answer.
When you wrote that number down — how do you know, deep your bones, that your number is that high? This is a twist on what I suspect your mind really wants to answer. Instead of writing about the reasons why there’s a gap between your number and 10, write down all the reasons that you know that you’ve got things already getting you on your way to 10. Or maybe it’s because you’ve been thinking about achieving a certain goal, and have already started making plans. Maybe it’s the education or experience that you have. Or maybe you really want to write a book, and the truth is that you’ve already written a chapter sitting in your desk. Or you want to travel, and you’ve already started saving. Make a comprehensive list of how you already know you’re on your way.
What do you have to do to just get one number higher? What’s one thing you can accomplish — maybe in January? — that will let you know you’re making forward movement?

Bonus point: create a vision board. While some folks think of vision boards as very mystical and “woo-woo,” I actually merely think of them as sort of a creative meditation: I think when you focus on something in a tangible, hands-on way, your subconscious is engaged; moreover, I believe that when you focus and concentrate in a meditative way on what you want for yourself, you both subconsciously and consciously begin to work toward those goals. So once you’ve answered those prompts for yourself, grab old magazines and start cutting out images and words that reflect what you’ve dreamed for yourself in answering the first question, above! Simply glue them on a poster board, a stretched canvas, or even your journal opened flat. (For what it’s worth, I bought this journal for myself for 2024, and it actually has dedicated space for a vision board in the very first pages.). Here's the catch: as you look at the images, don't be literal -- this is not an intellectual exercise, it's an emotional one. For example, if the image is a picture of a Porsche, you should choose it because of how the image makes you feel (e.g., empowered, exhilarated, wealthy ...), not only because hey-why-not-owning-a-Porsche-might-be-cool.

Make sense?

Anyway, the upshot is that creating a vision board is a lovely way to wrap up the year. And whether or not you look at it every day, or never look at it again, hopefully the process will help you to cultivate a bit of peace and meditation during what’s often a really busy time, before heading into your new year.

And next week: we’ll do the final bit of our year-end journaling meditation.