Ten Lessons From A Year On The Road

9,000 miles. 2 continents. 30 different beds (or more)

Where the journey began. Destination: everywhere.

So what has my year of radical disruption added up to?

It’s been a hot minute since I last set words to the page - at least outside the confines of my journal. And the truth is, I’ve been in one of those phoenix burning periods this year, and there are moments when we just have to sit in a space of not knowing. Cooking within a sealed cocoon, navigating an interior landscape beyond words, interpretations, or clear-cut meaning.

(And in my particular case, driving. Lots and lots of driving.)

Have you ever been through a time like that? One where you aren’t quite sure what’s next or who you are becoming, and it seems like the unraveling is never gonna end?

I’ve seen it plenty in my own life, and the lives of my coaching clients. Divorce. Layoff. The death of a beloved. A traumatic event. The empty nest. Retirement. Any one of these can send us spinning into the cycle of death and rebirth.

Periods of profound change are not always sparked by hard times of course, though that’s often the catalyst. Sometimes the attainment of a thing we’ve always wanted can kick off existential unravelling too. (And isn’t it weird when THAT happens??!!)

Whatever the cause, we’ve all been there at one point or another.

You might think that as a professional change-agent, I’d have a lock on how to move through it with some degree of equanimity. But oh no, my friend. Not really.

Instead, what I’m learning is that the tools and strategies that got me this far don’t necessarily apply to the places I’m going next. New terrain means we might need new maps.

So I tried something entirely different.

Back in March, I rented out my house and gave away or stored most of my belongings. I crammed everything I thought I might need for the next year into my compact Honda Fit and hit the road.

(What I chose to take, and what I left behind is another story entirely. Let’s just say I didn’t need to haul my bicycle to the Atlantic and back, but I sure could use my winter coat!)

Over the last six months I made my way east, visiting ancient sacred sites across North America. I lived in Philadelphia for four months. I pilgrimaged to Ireland twice. I’ve recently wound back to my starting point, and am currently bopping around the Pacific Northwest.

Along the way I’ve been asked what I’m discovering and learning. While integration is still a work in progress, here’s a couple nuggets thus far:

Chris’ Road Rules for Life

(at least right now - see rule #3!)

Don’t leave home without a buddy.

1) Load up on hugs.

You never truly know when the next one is coming. Really.

Relevant sidelight: life can be downright lonely sometimes, and there’s no shame in hiring someone to support meeting our fundamental, basic human need for kindness and contact. I did, and it changed the game. (Shout out to platonic touch therapists - it’s a thing, it’s legit, and I am grateful to have worked with such a great one!)

2) Put down the phone.

So many people are simply not HERE, and it’s eroding away at our humanity. Make eye contact. Watch the birds. Talk to strangers. The world is far more juicy than whatever’s on that screen.

3) It’s OK to change.

Bearra Peninsula

Or to change your mind. Take the time you need, go slow when things get confusing. If there are insurmountable obstacles, or when something just doesn’t feel right… that’s what a u-turn or a hard left is for.

4) Take radical responsibility.

Everything’s cleaner when we fully own our choices, and their outcomes.

5) Get comfortable with discomfort.

Doing things you’ve never done is confusing, and sometimes extremely scary. Do it anyway.

6) Embrace vulnerability and humility.

You won’t learn anything worth knowing from behind a shield of armor.

7) Come through the front door.

The land of my ancestors - Tipperary Mountains

Say what you mean and mean what you say. Know what you stand for, and what you don’t. And if you aren’t sure, that’s OK… but do the work and figure it out.

8) Risk disappointing others.

Really, and this one may be one of the hardest but it’s important. If nobody is ever confused by, upset with, or downright annoyed with you… you’re probably playing life way too safe. (But for pete’s sake: be kind, straightforward, and considerate about it. The alternative ain’t cool.)

9) Forgive yourself.

Mistakes will be made. Self-compassion is a far better travel companion than shame.

10) Show up.

Show up. Show up. SHOW UP.

Yes, I know I know - it may sound trite, and you’ve probably heard some version of all this before. But truly, it’s the living of a concept or teaching - over and over and over again - that drives it home. Makes it real. Changes you from the inside-out.

I am not the same person I was a year ago.

And while I don’t yet know who I’ve become, I have a much better idea of who she is than ever before. Which was ultimately my prayer, and the point of it all.

As a spiritual mentor and transformation coach, I’ve walked with my clients through all sorts of situations over the past six years. It’s an honor, and you continuously inspire me to press farther and deeper along my own path. To hold fast to a vision, take leaps, and trust in the process.

So what’s next?

In light of the rising uncertainty and turmoil across the world stage, I’ve made the decision to pivot away from consulting and my role as a coach trainer. It’s time to go all in, doing my bit to be part of the solution. (Or is that revolution? Evolution? Whatever we want to call what must come next!)

When I was in Ireland in October I made a vow, and its one I intend to keep. Witnessed by my teachers and the old gods on the Hill of Tara, I promised to double down on what I’ve been trained for. To step fully into my work as a medicine woman, and meet these increasingly troubled times with the tools I uniquely carry. To cultivate human connection, community, possibility, spiritual awareness, healing, hope and systemic change.

Exploring sacred sites in Ireland and having a few laughs with my teachers, Dr. Karen Ward and John Cantwell.

And boy, oh boy did Spirit hear me. Every single thing that wasn’t aligned with that promise has disentegrating more rapidly than I can comprehend or process. So it is, so it must be. (A vital lesson in being careful with our Word!)

To this end, I’m opening my books back up to new clients, healing rituals, ceremonial work, and related opportunities in 2025. So if you’ve been thinking about working together, let’s connect - I’d love to hear what you’re cooking on, and how I might be of service. I for one intend to kick off the new year from a place of hopefulness and vitality. This is the nourishment that we can and must claim for ourselves, regardless of what the wider world is doing.

Hope is the medicine. Your dreams are vital. Love really is everything.

Chris Clark