I sat on a plane more often in these past couple of months than I had in the entire two years I spent with a guy who fed me lies and watered me down with logic. Do I associate the dream thieves with logical thinking? Do I resent the stiflers of my exquisite, somewhat barbaric ideas? Does it even matter?

This past month I spent a week in Alaska climbing a mountain to pick blueberries, watching two ton brown bears eat their weight in salmon, exploring active volcanos, making new friends through food, and wearing everything except my own clothes, strewn about haphazardly in half a dozen places. A week of blissful no cell service and windy days, just to fly to the other side of the country to spend yet another thrilling week in Maine camping in hail storms, bar hopping with some of the oddest people, dancing to live music projected in a field; and creating ripples in the sand with our giggles and exasperated screams about the life of homelessness and heartbreak, the beauty of friendship, and the discomfort in all things new and wonderful.

And now, as quick as I left and came back, I am leaving again, spending yet another handful of hours on a plane, traveling to places I have never been before. The sheer magnitude of exploration leaves me feeling the most whole and content I’ve ever been in this life. And to think I was about to settle down with someone who stifled one of my greatest strengths and greatest joys. Honestly, thank goodness for heartbreak. I’ve half expected this past month and a half to treat me like a discarded sofa, plunked on the corner of a suburban street with “free” haphazardly splashed across a chunk of cardboard. I’m not sure why I expected life to disappoint and hurt me in the same way my previous partner had, yet instead of hoarding cynicism in my heart—like I so expected it to—life has gifted me with some of the most curiously heart-throbbing gestures. The people that are a part of my world are of the highest quality. They deserve every golden moment of joy and love and desire that this life has to give.

And with all this time I’ve had on airplanes and cars and buses and trains that carry me to the next place I’ll lay my head, I am brought to my knees by love that is active. Love that is present. Love that shows up in both the small, peaceful moments and love that screams the larynx raw. My broken, betrayed, trust-issued heart feels more restored than my cynical shadow thought possible. It is in both these big and small unexpected moments that life reteaches me what it means to be a human living among humans. What it means to maintain a childlike inquisition, to forever be noisy and messy and raw and honest; to seek kindness and welcome love with the wide, excited arms of a grandparent with their grandkids. To truly live this life is to know that you will be hurt by it, but not destroyed. You will be loved, as well as heartbroken, often at the same time.

Choose to dream with the presence of fear and hesitation. Choose discomfort while witnessing your own dreams transpire. Create a life of magic filled with all the simple things, and all the wonder will find you.