a letter to the lovers

Thoughts / Travel

On the road, every week feels like a month- a rebirth every seven days, and I slip in and out of love so effortlessly it takes my breath away.

The connections we form, born out of reckless vulnerability, naive optimism, and shameless late-night flirting under the blood moon, are as fiery as they are new, and then just like that- with the same intensity that they began,

they’re over. 

And I’m on the next bus, to the next place; taking the next trip, to the next love. 

Suddenly, abruptly, my hair a mess- coiled tightly on top of my head, a breezy afternoon car ride, your kind eyes and warm embrace, a passionate kiss at 2am against a muraled wall, become only memories- comforting thoughts to be recalled of dreamily, in hushed tones, with a smile. Forever unsure what could have come of this connection had I stayed. 

But I never stay.

Each young romance leaves me feeling lighter, infatuated, and high off of the rush; sick with love, hungover, and craving for more.  

We promise to meet again one day, but know that we won’t- understand that it’s better if we don’t. Better if we leave this delicate romance untouched, unmarked, encapsulated perfectly in time.

The memories of our brief affair become merely a soft spot for our hearts to land when the realities of life are too harsh, forming a warm blanket to cradle our fears and offer our hurt some rest.

For months afterwards, the recollection of these pretty little romances flicker in and out of my mind like a black and white movie- beautiful, tender, timeless, yet easily traded in for the next new thing.

I am fed new love every day. Some of it sweet, some a little sour, a little salty, slightly bitter, but each one equally delicious. I am neither hungry nor nourished, but I am satisfied. Life goes on. 

And then every once and a while, without warning, 

there it is…

a rare love. 

A special love. 

My mouth salivates. I am no longer starving.

These are the romances I recall of years after they’ve ended- nostalgically, longingly, in full colour HD; fully engrossed in the short-lived romance we once had. 

Too short. 

Yearning for what once was; what could have been. Begging for more.

Cursing at the oceans that seperate us. 

Resenting the moon I so easily fell into another mans spell under, knowing the lovers I yearn for are looking up at the same moon; knowing that the man with kind eyes in front of me can never make me feel the way that they once did, 

but hoping that they can.

Thinking back upon these connections makes my heart ache in a way I can’t describe. Full of immense joy for the moments we had, but longing to know what could have been had we both stayed.

Why didn’t we stay?

…why do I never stay?

I ask myself a question I already know the answer to…

my need for freedom far outweighs any desire I have for romance, and that is a truth that will always be. Without freedom I would starve, crumble, wilt- I could never survive.

The nourishment I need to thrive comes from new experiences, new country’s, new language’s- the unknown, the rush. Adventure provides the calories I need to sustain my breath in a way that no lover ever could.

Some days I wonder if I am an addict- always chasing the next best thing. High off the sugar rush and quickly crashing down; craving more. Knowing deep in my heart that this can’t be all there is.

Lusting for someone who can run just as far, just as fast, just as furious as I can and not loose their breath, but gain more; become fuller. Someone who can not only keep up, but push me further, pull me deeper, take me higher.

Chasing a high I’m not sure even exists.

Craving a feeling I have never felt, but know that I am capable of.

A love that I am worthy of.

I am wise enough not hold my breath waiting for the unknown- life is too beautiful a thing to miss out on chasing something I’ve never seen.

Besides, my cup is already overflowing.

Life is already happening, every day, right in front of me. The beauty, the pain- it’s all love. Love surrounds me.

Love is swirling around me like a whirlpool, crashing my body into it’s shore, pulling me out, then back again, then out once more. The same water that draws me into it’s currents also flows through my veins- we are one.

I am built of love. A small piece of an infinite puzzle- white hot. Too beautiful to look at directly; an energy connecting us all. 

Romance may come and go, but the well of love remains deep inside of me, an endless reserve rooted deep within my soul. Bursting.

I am the source of all of the love in my own world. 

Giver and receiver.

The lover is me.

i have a feeling

Fun / Thoughts

Yes, friends! I’m alive and well. My name is Lindsey and I’ve been ghosting this beautiful little space on the web for far too long, but ghost no more. Bestie JS, thank you for inspiring with your post. Now that it is 2019, I thought I would take a couple of minutes to do a little recap of what I was thankful for in 2018. Here it is… are you ready?

Twenty eighteen, thank you for: 

  • random encounters with people on the street (hi, french boys)
  • the montréal metro 
  • bumble. you brought me more entertainment and random dates than i could have ever imagined 
  • peppermint tea
  • the worst kiss and the best kiss
  • all the prairie sunsets 
  • swimming in the river 
  • my legs. oh, the places you took me this year. thank you, bod
  • my yoga mat
  • the untethered soul … you changed the way i live my life 
  • fresh mexican mangoes 
  • a fully stocked kitchen 
  • google maps. i’d probably be stuck in a forest if it wasn’t for ya 
  • meditation
  • freshly baked bread
  • beers in the park
  • my swell water bottle
  • meeting new friends at cafes 
  • clary sage essential oil
  • earpods. the real deal, friends. worth every single penny
  • the best veggie burger my mouth has ever tasted
  • finally seeing newfoundland. you’ve been on my list for over a decade
  • the smell of the ocean 
  • teaching me how to sleep in a hammock
  • seeing the stars 
  • feeling the sun on my face
  • laughing the hardest I’ve ever laughed… ever!

Wow! You were quite the year. So many random adventures. Roadtrippin’ around Mexico, camping on the beaches, hiking and hitchhiking all around Newfoundland, seeing Sheryl Crow perform at the Winnipeg Folk Fest (btw, she killed it!), going back to school and eventually moving to Montreal. Thank you for the best year thus far. You were the sweetest!

Well… now that it’s 2019 let’s get this party started. I have a feeling, my friends. Cue all the glitter, laughs, dancing, blissful moments and pumpkin pie. THIS IS GOING TO BE THE BEST YEAR OF OUR LIVES. 

my body is changing, and it’s okay

Thoughts / Travel

Hola mi amigas! Since we’re such good friends and all, I wanted to share something that I haven’t spoken about much before- online or with friends. You ready?

The last time I went traveling for 1 and 1/2 years, I gained 20 pounds.

At the time I didn’t really realize. I knew my body had changed and I felt a little weird about it, but I wasn’t sure exactly how much until I returned home and literally NONE of my clothes fit me anymore… So what did I do? I bought new pants, and continued on with my life. Then, while I was living back home over the next year, I lost 20 pounds, so… I bought new pants, and continued on with my life.

Now that I’ve been traveling Mexico for roughly 6 weeks, I can notice my body changing all over again. My cheeks are a little rounder, my hips are a little wider, and my bra’s are doing their best to keep up with it all (Thank you, thank you, thank you to my bra’s – You’re my most loyal friends. I love you).

Are you wondering why I’ve never spoken about this weight fluctuation before? Because it doesn’t fucking matter, that’s why. The reason I don’t talk about my weight is the same reason that I don’t talk about the colour of my eyes, or the size of my shoes, or the length of my hair; because it’s completely irrelevant to my quality of life and overall happiness. 

Another funny thing about weight (and most everything else), is that other people are way too obsessed with their own to ever worry about yours. You might think that everyone will notice and ask you about the changes you see in your body, but I’m here to tell you- they wont.

When my body changed the first time, no one even noticed! Not one person noticed when I gained the weight, and no one noticed when I lost it, either. I don’t remember anyone saying anything to me about it the entire time, and if I ever brought it up, people seemed shocked and surprised.

Did my friends still love me just the same when I returned home from traveling, 20 pounds heavier? No, they loved me more, because I was smarter, funnier, more confident, more cultured, and just an all around happier person because of my experiences abroad.

Did the extra weight mean I had a lack of boys wanting to make out with me? Hell no. Any boy who see’s me naked should count himself BLESSED no matter how much I weigh, and they know it, too. 

Here’s a little secret for you my friends- people are attracted to confidence in yourself and vitality inside of your soul, not pant size. Here’s another secret- you don’t need validation from anyone. You are already a perfect, beautiful, angel, and your weight does not define you.

It never has and it never will.

That being said, I’m still just a regular person, and sometimes I feel a little weird about my body changing, so something I like to ask myself when I notice these changes is “why did I decided to travel in the first place?”

Did I go traveling so that I could be skinny and photogenic and have shinny hair and perfect skin and an Instagram feed full of selfies? No! I’m a regular human being. I went traveling so that I could make friends, enjoy my life, experience the culture, learn the language, eat the food! drink the drinks!! kiss the boys!!! dance the dances!!!! And now please tell me, how the hell am I supposed to do all of that while I also worry about my weight? I’m too busy living my life and having fun to worry about something so pointless and insignificant as a few extra pounds.

Life is too beautiful a thing to miss out on by stressing over the small stuff.

Yes, mezcal and lack of sleep and fried corn in all it’s forms can help to add a few pounds to the body, but that’s kind of the point of being in Mexico, no? How boring would it be if I never tried the local food, never drank the drinks, never ate tacos at 7am after a long night of dancing, and if I got 9 hours of sleep every night? Let me tell you… I did not come to Mexico to get 9 hours of sleep a night, okay?

Alright, alright, so that’s all fine any everything, but before you (Mom) think anything crazy, let’s get one thing straight here- when I talk about not caring, it’s about my weight, not my health. 

My health is always and forever my number one priority.

My body and I- we are besties- and I plan to take care of, treasure, and respect it, just like my body loves, respects, and takes care of me

I’m still eating a ton of vegetables, I’m still drinking water, I’m still doing yoga, I’m still meditating, I’m still sleeping, I’m still listening to my body and giving it what it needs.

The thing about health is this – it has just as much to do with what you put in your mind as what you put in your body. Mental health is obviously extremely important, and at least for me, I would rather eat the chilaquiles and drink the margarita every now and again than stress about exactly what it’s doing to my body. What do you think is worse for you, an extra 7 pounds, or a lifetime of stress?

So yeah, my body is changing, and it really, truly, does not matter. In fact, MY ENTIRE LIFE IS CHANGING. Everything is different; my whole life is expanding, the world is opening up to me.

It’s called growth- the best way to measure if something is alive.

My body is changing, and it’s okay.

everyday things I’m grateful for

Fun / Thoughts

Alright, so I know that everyone is getting pretty sick of reading a bunch of Instagram posts about what their friends have accomplished in 2018 and how freekin blessed and happy and obsessed with themselves they all are. But guess what? For the sake or gratitude and appreciating the simple stuff, I’m going to hit you with another one – so get ready. Sorry not sorry!

Dear 2018, thank you for:

  • The tree outside my window, and all the tiny birds who called it home
  • Beach sunsets
  • Vintage coats
  • Hugs- so many hugs
  • Words that took my breath away
  • Wine – even the sparking red that I exploded all over a bunch of strangers and ruined my shoes with
  • New friends
  • Old friends
  • Family
  • Friends who become family
  • Stars
  • Library books
  • Vegetables
  • The music I danced and cried and sang along to
  • The babies I smiled at
  • Flowers
  • Pink jeans
  • This Instagram account <–
  • Dogs – all the dogs
  • Farmers market swiss chard
  • The tears I cried
  • The boys I kissed
  • Smoothie bowls
  • Red lipstick
  • Light reflections at magic hour
  • The bike rides to work
  • The meals I shared with friends
  • Sunshine
  • Yoga
  • Purple sea shells

So thanks for the mem’s, 2018. Sure, the big moments were great too, but it was really all of the tiny moments of joy that got me through the year and made it so enjoyable. Can’t wait to stare at the sky and dance and laugh and cry and smile at even more babies in 2019.


words / 10


The world doesn’t need more “successful people.” The world desperately needs more peacemakers, restorers, healers, storytellers, and lovers of all kinds.” Author unknown