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Mold Chose Me

This is not a life path I would ever have imagined. Or one I would wish upon anyone else. But it seems somehow, bizarrely, fitting. And it seems to complete a full circle.

I am writing today from Buenos Aires, in a state of shock.

It has been 8 months since we officially started our journey of slow traveling and world schooling. We started in Uruguay, from an intuitive hit that opened up the possibility of slow travel.

Our family had just survived a tough Colorado winter, my little girl and I sick with swollen, chronically dry lips that took all the pleasure out of eating and speaking. I was longing for a tropical, warm climate. On a whim, I went to the Earthship Global site and discovered they were launching their next training in Uruguay, which was one of our top 5 selections of places to study.

We talked it over for a week or so, before deciding to just jump in. Our next few months of life would be filled with twists and turns, beyond any curveballs I could ever have imagined. I hope to slowly share some of the misadventures over the course of the next month.

But coming back to the topic at hand… today, September 22, 2019, we are 3 days into the realization that we have been living in toxic mold for the past 4 months. And woozy from what that means for our lives now, and the radical life-180, the single-minded dedication it will require to heal ourselves now.

Last month, before any of this, I happened to sign up for a 40 day workshop to write a book. I thought I’d be writing a collection of world travel tips for teens & college students. (I’ve been traveling internationally by myself since I was 5.)

But falling right in line with the theme of hidden surprises, that book will have to wait. All the ideas, all the projects, have taken a back seat. This one topic is suddenly the only priority in my life.

HEALING TOXIC MOLD. As John Cusack would say, straight to the top. With a bullet.

The health of my family. Nothing else matters.