The baristas call out drink orders loudly enough to be heard over the din of idle chatter and a jazz version of ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’. I tune into the lyrics and my eyes fill. Where is my somewhere over the rainbow and how can I get there? From my perch by the window, I can hear the car tires kicking up rain and I watch the spring downpour pummel a handful of committed runners.

I am achingly glad to have escaped the four walls of my apartment. I watch in wonder as people scurry to complete tasks on overcrowded to-do lists. I have no one to meet, no one to take care of, and nothing to accomplish. I feel equal parts relief and desolation. Grateful that I have the time and space to recover from the trauma of chemo and my recent double mastectomy but lost because my days do not have structure or purpose.

For the last couple of months, I have felt afraid and empty. I have wanted someone or something to fill me up with joy, hope, and love. But, I am slowly realizing that no one else can do that for me. Maybe it’s time I went on a trip mentally, physically, and spiritually?

As I had this thought, I felt a small glimmer of light slice through my heavy heart. Maybe I could go somewhere amazing and remind myself that the world is full of beautiful places and people? Maybe I could spend time healing my bruised up body and soul and focus on writing my story?

Now before you jump to the conclusion that I am trying to write the next ‘Eat, Pray, Love’, let me assure you that my trip will not include any pasta (I’m gluten intolerant), any meditating at an Ashram in India (it sounds amazing in theory, but at this point I don’t have the mental or physical stamina to attempt it), or any risk of falling in love with a Brazilian (for a variety of reasons, I don’t think a fairy tale ending is what I need).

What I did need on that May afternoon in Starbucks was something to look forward to; an adventure to call my own. A chance to prove to myself that cancer could not take away my desire to fully experience life.

So, the day has finally arrived. I am taking the red eye to London tonight. Over the next 3 ½ weeks I plan to peruse the galleries of London, stroll through the old city of Dubrovnik, see the wonders of the Dalmatian Coast via ferry on my way to the island of Hvar, rent a car and drive up the coast to Piran, sip wine at a café in Ljubljana (apparently it’s the next, next Prague), and then hop on a plane and finish my adventure amidst the mosques of Istanbul.

Is this trip the responsible thing to do? Can I afford it? Probably not. But, my heart is pounding with excitement instead of fear, which is a nice change of pace.

I have played the responsible card all of my life and luckily have some money squirreled away for a rainy day. Given that the last year has been the rainiest of my life (figuratively and sometimes literally speaking), I am going to grab this opportunity with both hands and in the famous words of Nike ‘just do it’.

I hope you’ll join me. Given that my only traveling companion in Croatia, Slovenia, and Turkey will be my laptop, I should have plenty of time to write.