My move to the Yucatan, Mexico: Getting lost in Playa del Carmen – A life thrown into turmoil; Finding my heart in Nicte-Ha.

To travel the world is to experience and write you own book of history. Otherwise you are just reading history written at the hands of the victors. But to truly understand oneself and the world also one must depart the pseudo harbor of safety and explore the intrepid open seas. It is only through others that we truly learn about ourselves; it is only through travel that we sincerely learn of the untold people and cultures of other countries. Opening my mind to the possibilities of travel allowed me to find my heart.

This chapter of my life started in Amsterdam, Holland and ended up spitting me out in Yucatan, Mexico. In the interim, it brought me on a head spinning whistle-stop trek from New York City to Maine to Miami to Nicaragua, back to Miami again, then finally off to Colombia. After being unable to find a suitable apartment for my needs in two different cities in Colombia, with funds dwindling, on the verge of giving up, along with some close friends and business partners, it was determined I would relocate to Mexico.

All the while, my journey was eclipsed by the Covid-19 international pandemic and crisis. At every turn there was a new challenge or hurdle to overcome – they were incessant, always lurking in the shadows. Seventeen of the last twenty-four months have been spent living out of hotels. Whilst almost becoming broke and homeless in a wheelchair twice, having my whole life packed into three suitcases only added insult to injury, pre-pending undue stress and anxiety to an already precarious globetrotting expedition.

Do not be mistaken, this has been a wander of the heart since the start. The impetus behind the mad adventure, the magic of the trail, quest of the soul, always surrounded finding the proper foreign filming location for my TV pilot – an adventure travel show with a twist of spirituality, aptly named: Wheels Up! Once leaving Europe to move home temporarily to Philadelphia, whilst giving my car and all my home items away to the inner-city homeless, before being denied re-entry to Europe twice, it has been a slog.

Once I finally had made it to Cartagena, I thought that was my final destination. After attempting to move there twice before in life, my third attempt I planned to live there two to five years. But after six months of innumerable obstacles, breaking my wallet and almost leaving me no bed to sleep in, our team gave up on the possibility of filming in Colombia.  It was at this juncture that I went online in order to find a new city to relocate to in the Yucatan, Mexico. Through an ad on Craigslist I met Julio Cesar Chavez.

Cesar, as he liked to be addressed, was a very congenial person upon first introduction. Without wasting anyone’s time, immediately I informed him on my wheelchair and the necessary living requirements. Within a day he replied via text with a video, a video that showed a few areas of concern, that ended with him proposing where to build ramps for me. After umpteen apartment failures in Colombia, Cesar was an angel in disguise. And after losing all my money a week before my move, I knew it was a match.

At this point, it became evident that I was meant to be in Playa del Carmen – there are no mistakes in life. Since my time living in the Middle East I have always had a connection to the energy of the earth. It is much more fine-tuned in my current stage of life. Once I arrived in “Playa” the energy where I was living was immediately felt. As the same ethereally ‘at home’ comfortable feeling while living in Israel, Holland, Indonesia, Ireland and Colombia, Mexico was no different, genuinely l felt restfully at home.

Cesar owns an eight room apartment rental complex in an off-the-beaten-path quaint neighborhood, Nicte-Ha.  It is a working class neighborhood most representative of how average Mexicans live day-to-day. There is one thing for certain when living in such a regional locale, without the chaotic mess of the ‘el Centro’ zone, you do not see many “gringos” AKA foreigners in the streets. It certainly makes for an authentic experience, one most representational of the bona fide ways in which actual Mexicans live.

In my first week while staying in the warm and cozy barrio of Nicte-Ha, I could feel her warm embrace. The people here are incredibly polite and always willing to lend a hand. A local neighborhood replete with rooster crows all hours of the day, where residents often sit in front of their homes or in the street late into the night, where it is not uncommon to hear music played loud – no matter the hour – it is a district whose streets are alive with constant action all day and evening. The energy is alive, palpable.

Nicte-Ha is a neighborhood where the old-school trade traditions of yesteryear still exist. No matter if you need your shoe, electronic or car repaired, it is as safe a bet as finding a corner street food stand. The delectable choices of local recipes sold by individuals on foot or bicycle trying to support their families are boundless: tacos (14 + different types); tamales; pizza; cakes and pies; ice cream; ice treats; fresh coconut water and pulp; fruits and fresh squeezed juices, and a multitude of other delicious treats. 

On any given day you might see a pandemonium of tropical parrots or Chachalacas flying overhead, leaving yourself asking yourself Que Paso. There is a gorgeous beach, Esmeralda, within a ten minute walk. And, if you are up for the trek, ‘el Centro’ is a forty-five minute walk. When back home you can expect to be flooded with different shouts from the street by local sellers vending their wares, whether procured and resold, fresh mixed, prepared on cart, baked at home or random impulsive tasty foodstuff.

These hawkers depend on local sales to survive. Many live in homes nearby where the majority do not have doors, windows or flushing toilets. They each have their own distinct method to get your attention. The pizza-by-the-slice purveyor on a bike uses a car battery connected to a boom-box to blare out disco music, with voiceover as the menu. Another man goes through the streets, every other residence, in a very raspy hoarse voice, screaming of sweet bread for purchase. Each day over ten vendors would pass.

The complex was filled with affable guests from all over the world. Over time, I befriended one of my neighbors, Valentin, a burly hirsute Viking looking computer programmer from Montreal. He would later become the investor in my TV show. In two shakes of a lamb’s tail all eight units were booked. Many a night was spent outside sitting on the patio under the bright stars celebrating the wonder of life through profound conversation with new friends. One of the greatest benefits of travel is the people you meet.

Of the daily group there are always a few characters. George and Michele from Czech Republic were a daily source of meaningful conversation – as they travel the world trying to rid the oceans of endless plastic. Rocky, his preferred moniker, a seventy-two year old, extremely outgoing and energetic, filled with Midwest love and compassion, always at the ready for a witty remark or a good time, was a pisser. He was right out of a movie; as were many whose paths I crossed during my time in celebrated Nicte-Ha.

While living in close quarters with others over a long period of time it is without fail that some close relationships will result. Valentin was the first foreigner I met when I moved to Mexico. Eventually a friendship ensued. We would spend nights having local street-stand tacos and beers while talking about everything under the sun. At one point, my show became the topic of interest and, by the time the night had come to a close, Valentin decided he wanted to become the sole investor to produce my TV pilot.

As with any major life decision, I interjected that he should first take the proper amount of time in order find resolve with his decision. It was also recommended that he read a copy of my book, Unbreakable Mind, in order to better fully comprehend the totality of my story. Two weeks later he came to me one afternoon and told me he was 100% committed to the project. Unfortunately, without being forthright, he still had doubts deep in the back of his head. And though he tried to hide them, they were obvious.

Although his words said otherwise, and his questions were flashing red-flags of neon, he insisted he was ready to move forward. Within two weeks, in an infantile tantrum, he decided to pull the plug. The show was off. Not a few days passed before he realized his rash mistake and wanted back in on the deal. We reluctantly agreed to accept him a second time, with the fear that he would later find some other quack reason to kill the deal. We also worried that he might decide to have another shit fit once filming began.

Well, as anticipated, and as you might expect, in due time, Valentin withdrew from the project a second time. But by this time he had already made commitments to people for their time and service. Others ended up being affected, collateral damage so to speak, as a result of another unprocessed impulsive decision. After relentlessly chasing a dream all over the globe for almost two years, attempting to bring to fruition through all means, it was time to walk away. The universe’s message could not be clearer.

A wise elder friend and mentor once told me, “Steven, never tie a bow around it.” In life we have our agenda, but life has its own, as well. And guess whose wins? Never yours! We have no control over our lives; the power of fate conquers all. Life has a way of beating you down until you are on your raw knees begging for mercy from above. As part of your karmic balance, each has their own lessons to overcome in this life. If you do not yield and realize these lessons, the universe returns them with multiplied force.  

Obviously I had not learnt the intended lesson: giving up control – living in the now – learning to be patient, waiting for the ‘grand illusion’ to reveal itself. In the interim, we are to continue learning about love and forgiveness, increasing our vibration. Earth is a spiritual school where only the bravest of souls decide to live as a human. What is our purpose here? Why are we here? Every day we each have the opportunity to grow from our experience on earth – every day our reaction and attitude are our choice.  

Losing the deal was a gift in disguise. Truth be told, I have no real interest in being on TV, nor all that accompanies that lifestyle. Part of the lesson on giving up control was accepting that for one [unknown] reason or another, the universe had other plans for me than a TV show – at least at this period. What was the reason? That is part of the mystery of life: recognizing the infinite synchronicity and inextricable interconnectedness of the universe at play in every moment of our daily lives. It forever surrounds us.  

But I am fine with waiting for the universe to reveal its plan. If we continue on and do not acknowledge the lesson, continuing to carry on without being aware of our true purpose, in which the universe is trying to make us aware, life can be a real drag, not worth living. Life is about facing the unknown, head-on. Travel by its very nature has a never-ending plethora of unknowns. And no different than living, travel causes you to have to face and overcome your fears, befalling tremendous growth for future use.

Travel closely parallels life, as it is an experiential process: one that must be kicked off or fully lived, respectively. No different than trying to figure out how to get to a difficult location in a wheelchair, the universe does not provide a net until action is taken. It is only when venturing out into the void of the great mystery, questing through the fathomless far reaches of the heart, voyaging into the unrevealed dimensions of uncharted territory – the collective unconscious – that you find your conscious not-self.

This journey has revealed its purpose: to accept life as it comes by living ‘in the now’ – and to maintain immense gratitude for the limitless love and support surrounding us always, without fail neither of duty nor of time. Life is a big mirror, a mere self-reflection; what we see in others we are ourselves. Travel, forcing you to shed your superficial titles and security blankets, the story horse of vulnerability that we all  ride, opens the way to the road less traveled – the road to your heart, to your inner-being, to God.

Everything happens for a reason. I am where I am supposed to be at this moment of my life – Mexico.

Travel Blog: Click here.

Spiritual Blog: Click here.

BookUnbreakable Mind. (Print, Kindle, Audio)

Doing The Dirty Dishes Podcast: Watch or listen to episodes and subscribe: SpotifyApple PodcastBuzzsprout.  Also available on Google PodcastiHeartTuneinAmazon Alexa and Stitcher

Doing The Dirty Dishes YouTube channel – watch and subscribe.

Social Media linksTwitterInstagram and Linkedin.

Travel Blog links: Covid-19 stranded in NYC JFK and Maine – also travel stories on IrelandSpainSweden,  BelgiumIcelandColombia (Espanol version), AmsterdamGermanyNew HampshireTN and NYC.

Personal Website link where you can also find my bookphotos of my travels and updates on current projects.  

Thank you for your love and support.

Ep. #6 My Recovery: My gratitude: A mosaic homage to all those who helped me along the way.

When I first had my wits about myself, after waking up in the trauma unit of an inner-city hospital one very early Sunday morning, my first real recollection was of conversations with my team of five surgeons.  Ever since that moment, I have had what seems like a group of dedicated angels forever on my side and in my corner, ensuring that I would have all the necessary research, guidance and mentoring to help me become an enlightened being.

Help was received from many fronts: some was intentional, others, not. Some came upon my recovery by happenstance or fate; others helped out of guilt; yet others, by way an inadvertent connection. Numerous acts of kindness were intended, others unexpected. Altruism was on full display; as was anger and hatred.  Some even saved my life. The help bestowed upon me gave me the fuel to recover – to heal, to become a complete person, filled with light – now a guide.

To write out a list of personal interaction between giver and receiver seems a bit gratuitous, whereas the full meaning and impact is lost. A complete thank you will be included as a chapter in my second book on finding happiness in your heart.

Through this seemingly otherwise insurmountable journey, only possible on the shoulders of the greats who walked before me – and whom are only paying it forward in the circle of life – with their profound compassion, care, support and love for me and my being, my journey of recovery and healing – have allowed me now to light the way for others in need. Also through which I was able to find my inner-being, my higher-self, the Holy Spirit – my true intention.

By matching my heart with my life’s purpose, with everyone’s assistance, after choosing the road less traveled, journeying into the darkness of the soul, only to reemerge into light, I now intend to serve others.

Travel Blog: Click here.

Spiritual Blog: Click here.

Book: Unbreakable Mind. (Print, Kindle, Audio)

Doing The Dirty Dishes Podcast: Watch or listen to episodes and subscribe: SpotifyApple PodcastBuzzsprout.  Also available on Google PodcastiHeartTunein, Amazon Alexa and Stitcher

Doing The Dirty Dishes YouTube channel – watch and subscribe.

Social Media linksTwitterInstagram and Linkedin.

Travel Blog links: Covid-19 stranded in NYC JFK and Maine – also travel stories on Ireland, Spain, SwedenBelgiumIcelandColombia (Espanol version), AmsterdamGermany, New HampshireTN and NYC.

Personal Website link where you can also find my bookphotos of my travels and updates on current projects.  

Thank you for your love and support.

Ep. #4 Synchronistic Altruism: Homeless and on the run: Meeting Norbert in Amsterdam.

If eighteen years of brainwashing at the hands of nuns and priests in Catholic school taught me anything, it was to be charitable, help those in need and the Golden Rule: Treat others how you would like to be treated. These are basic tenants of humanity, we all can agree. But how many of us actually carry them out; how many of us demonstratively match our actions to our words? Forty-five years into this ‘simulated life’ and I am still learning every minute, day – lifetimes.

Growing up it was instilled in me that as helpful as it was to give a man a fish it was far more valuable if you taught him how to fish for himself. A soft-spot for those less advantaged in life, it was innate. Something I never had to specifically learn or be told; it felt natural to me to look after them, almost instinctive. It was as if I was preparing one day to be on that side of the table without knowing how, when, or if. We now have that answer – complimentary wheels included.  

It is late 2010s, I am spending my summers living in Europe as a writer. And another three to four months a year traveling the world in my wheelchair, blogging for those whom travel is a challenge. Later I would have an apartment in Amsterdam, Holland, but for much of my time there it is spent in an upper-scale hostel. Hostels are the absolute best for meeting all different type people the world over. Amsterdam: surely a city not lacking in off-the-wall personalities.

This one particular summer I decided to divide my time in Amsterdam into two separate six- week trips. The first would be a bit earlier, in spring, the latter later, into fall. I had never been there for King’s Day, which meant I would be in the city for a time and an event new to me. I had heard it was a wild party but nothing could have prepared me for the mayhem. During the debauchery, shockingly I witnessed a man in the nascent stages of a psychological melt-down.

Later that afternoon in the café, when approached to check his mental state, as he was heavily dosed up on multiple drugs, resulting in adverse ‘Sponge-Bob Square Pants’ type stares, in need of adult supervision, he finally allowed me to talk with him. He would affectionately come to be known as Davo AKA “Crazy Dave.” Davo was a straggly, dreadlock haired down-under wild man, hell-bent on pissing away his newly acquired Australian lawsuit money that summer in Europe.

Each night, at the hostel bar, a gaggle of us would gather to imbibe and indulge decadence. Basically, we were motley group of new friends, from all over the planet, amalgamating as one. Like moths drawn to the magic of ‘the trail’ – sharing understanding and bonding through rich inter-cultural conversation. One night a new guy appeared in the picture – or rather, on the couch. Who was this cat? He looked disheveled – oddly a wee bit dodgy. Something was amiss.

Days passed and he was still there. On the third day, I noticed different people in our crowd ordering food, and when it arrived they would say they were not hungry, pushing the food toward the yet unknown scraggly person, now a part of our ensemble. Later that day I found out that he was from Poland, homeless with nowhere to go each night, other than the streets. Wow, really?! My heart immediately went out to him. But my mind had so many questions.

The next day in the auditorium, a public room with lots of couches and chairs for us to loiter, our group clustered. We would do the same outside the hostel almost every night, on Oostpark. Some days we were there from 11:00 to 03:00 the next morning. Everyone boogied off, doing their thing, leaving only him and I alone. “Hello, what is your name?” “I am Norbert,” he said. He went on to tell me, “I am homeless,” and “I currently live in the park, hidden in the brush.”

Immediately my eyes welled up. I was unsure what I had just heard. He went on to tell me, “Everyone I know steals from me. No one is honest; they all lie to me; take advantage of me.” He continued, “I have no real true friends in life – I am alone on the streets. Currently I live in a park, under a tree, on the dirt.” He explained, “I was squatting on a boat but one morning the owner came home and I had to run, leaving all my belongings there, including my cell phone.”

Before continuing on with the story, let me interject some perspective. I am a spiritual person who has walked through hell to be me. Reading has been an essential tool on my journey. It was also a key part of my recovery and ultimately, healing. It was the foundation needed for writing my first book: Unbreakable Mind.  Although I espouse ‘Doing The Dirty Dishes’ of life, sometimes a person just needs a hand extended with love to get them get back up to the sink.

Being a prolific reader (3-5 books a week), and especially since spending my summers living in Amsterdam, I packed a small library to read. One book that I was most enchanted: Altruism, by a favorite author of mine, Matthieu Ricard. A 700 + page yellow behemoth of lessons awaited me.  As with all books, there are no mistakes – they come to you at the time meant. And, true of all lessons in life, one must first be receptive to change before any enlightenment is possible.

This book changed me; it affected me in profound ways. The book spoke to my soul, extending deep into my core being – Holy Spirit. I thought I understood altruism but I was tremendously mistaken. It is so much more than simply lending a hand or helping someone. Often it is argued how possible is it to be ‘purely altruistic’ but this book makes the case. It explains the high level of compassion, care and concern needed for the well-being of another to help them in their life.

 “You must be the change you want to see in the world.”  – Mahatma Gandhi

Well, it was time to put the metal to the grind. What better time to hone an indispensable life lesson? Or simply put, welcome the universe at play with synchronicity. We were both meant to meet one another and speak alone that day. I decided that I was going to step up and show him what it meant to have a good friend, someone who is genuinely concerned with your inner-prosperity, not just today but also the future – someone who wants better for your life, always.

While he was visiting the bathroom I took the opportunity to fold up Euros, placing them under his beer. Being a poor writer did not pay my bills but being a trader did, providing me enough to share. When he returned for a sip of beer he saw it and said, “What is this…Why?” It was hard to play dumb as no one was there to scapegoat action I would have preferred unseen.  Aware he was Polish, I asked, “Are you Catholic?” He said, “Yes.” I said, “Merry Christmas, early.”

That afternoon he went on to tell me a story of extreme heartbreak. At this time he was ‘on the lam’ from the law in Poland – other friends were not so lucky. Some unfortunate things outside his immediate control happened. He and some friends were working for a wealthy businessman and were not paid.  So they robbed his property in order to eat. They worked for two months and were left to starve. All this meant he had no papers, thus living in Holland illegally – a ghost.

“Show me a man without a skeleton in his closet and I will show you a man without virtue. “         – Abraham Lincoln

None of that mattered to me. And at this point helping him with lawyers and legal fees was the least of his worries. He was homeless, living on the streets of a major European city. His biggest daily concerns were primal: food, water, shelter – basic survival. He was living like an animal in the bushes of many a popular park in central Amsterdam, including Vondelpark. Whilst tourists passed by, ignorantly bliss to his dire plight, someone’s son, brother, uncle – was living a hell.

As we sat in the auditorium one chilly spring afternoon on the couch together, drinking beers and eating fries (top 3 in Amsterdam), talking and smiling, he was completely baffled – he wanted to know why I was assisting him in life, why did I chose him? Who was I? He only knew me as the quiet general who liked to eat and drink, puff and chat, meet new interesting people, listen to music and wonder beneath the stars with anyone crazy enough to join the cacophony.  

Norbert, “You deserve to have a good friend in life; you merit to be treated with dignity and respect. You are worthy of love and having someone in life that values you and treats you as a real friend – and now you do not have that. You are lacking the primary essentials in life, needs all humans require and warrant. I will be that friend, I will show you that there are good people in the world still, who love others unconditionally and wish happiness for you.” He cried softly.   

The thought that someone I had just crossed paths with synchronously needed to be reminded he was human, entitled to respect, kindness, goodness, love, courage, dignity, worthiness, joy, hope and dreams – like every other human on this planet, hit me like a ton of bricks. Searching for an opportunity to marry my actions to my words, the universe provided me an alter: a triple cross, draped in neon. Our lives would be forever altered in time. So many others’ lives too!

Friends suddenly all poured back in, the party was back in full swing. Not ten minutes passed since everyone had gone off for a smoke or to the café to fetch some more beers and two lives, now inextricably intertwined, had universally changed in tremendous ways, setting off ripples of love and goodness, ad infinitum. My heart felt like it never did before; it was electrified. The light that was lit inside of Norbert was clear – he now had a friend for life. His grin said it all.

The next morning I was awakened by a knock at my door at 08:30. Aware the cleaning service was not due in that morning – I was puzzled as to who could be at my door so early. It was Norbert, with a big smile. Over time his constant thirst for living life and daily dose of positivism secretly lifted me up on my most difficult days. He stood there, two large white plastic bags in tow. They were filled with food and shower items – gifts of love. What had just happened? I was stunned.

This slim-shady looking Pole, coming from spending the night sleeping in the local park located adjacent the hostel, without the most basic necessities of life, could only think of me, of how he could make me content. Wow! Are you kidding me? The night before I gave him my room key so he could go have a hot shower. He took note of the fruits and snacks I had on my desk and decided to surprise me with my favorites. The fruit was [always] fresh from the Turkish stand.

When the student is ready, the teacher appears.  — Proverb attributed to Buddha

On my return trip that summer, upon arriving at the hostel, Norbert was waiting outside for me. He always had a welcome satchel of treats and bathroom items when I arrived; and travel to-go bag when I departed. From that day forward, to the end of my stay in September, never once did he leave my side. Amsterdam is a big city with dangers, aside from all the drugged up tourists ‘running amok’ in Centrum, home to the Red Light District, where safety is prudent.

A person whose life has been dealt a bad hand but approaches every morning with a glimmer of hope, always overly optimistic the sun will shine tomorrow. He almost has a touch of innocent naïveté. He now had a safe place to keep his bag of life’s belongings, to eat whenever needed, or have a shower and rest. Without ID he could not stay at the hostel; papers are required for proper ID. Often I would give him a pillow and linens to bring to the park to sleep for the night.

Every morning he was at my door – even one day after being stabbed in Oostpark on his way to see me. The greatest helper an injured person could wish, forever a step ahead of me. Always he handled the wheelchair for all Uber rides – endlessly my guardian, always ensuring my safety everywhere we went. He constantly checked locations we patronized for accessibility. He never knew how much that meant. His love and care meant the world to me. I am forever grateful.

We went everywhere together, most times surrounded by other friends from the hostel. Over the next two summers we shared countless memories. We visited museums, exhibitions, the zoo, the beach, went to lunch at fancy places and spent much time in the sun at local cafes, enveloped in conversation. He told me how special all those trips were to him – how they made him feel like a little boy again. He had a hard upbringing in rural Poland where money was tight. 

If ever I wished [secretly] to have a little brother in life – I had found him.

Many nights at the start of the relationship he wanted to know why I was so generous to him. Explaining the 700 page opus on Altruism was out of the question. But a story from a past life was not. I told him that most likely in the 1500s, in Europe, I was a poor peasant in trouble, in dreadful need, and he was a rich businessman who took pity on me and my family. This was the universe’s karmic balance. In fact, truth told: he was my helper, an angel – my life teacher.

Not my circus, not my monkeys.  – Polish Proverb

But, oh, yes, it is our circus, and they are our monkeys.

The measure of any civilized society is how it treats those who are in need. The measure of an individual is how he/she, through daily virtue and practice, treats those same in need. By which he transcends all differences, helping relieving suffering of others, giving fellow humans hope for days of happiness ahead, assisting others without question or prejudice, eliminating despair and instilling hope, truly caring and concerning for the welfare of others. That is just a start!

Life’s worth and happiness do not come from how many toys or titles you can collect but the good you do in life.  We all originate from the same wellspring of humanity. It goes beyond the ethos of a society, squarely at the base of your core values as a person, as a human. Anyone can help another person – Altruism is about transforming their whole life into one that guarantees them the same universal dignity and respect afforded all humanity. It is about service to others. 

“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.” The question I have for you at this point of our journey together is, “What is your genius?”  – Albert Einstein

There is no limit to what ‘true altruism’ can accomplish. In the end, we are here on this planet to contribute to the betterment of humanity: it is our sacred duty, to the extent our best inner strengths are utilized for the sake of all people. When we die no one remembers our 3000sq meter home but they certainly remember those whom we helped from disparagement, those we supported their greatest inner qualities so as to awaken happiness. That is one’s true legacy.

Everyone within them possesses immeasurable gifts of treasure and promise; it is up to us to tap into that creative light, encouraging others to be their best self – to shine their brightest.

Life is a dance best done together. Thank you for being my partner – your love, Norbert.

Three years on, life is vastly different for Norbert. No longer are the park, jail or prison nightly sleeping options. He now has a full-time construction job, a Polish girlfriend and an apartment replete with friends, in a nice suburb of Amsterdam. He has made progress on the legal front, expecting to get his “papers” within months. He now has dignity, hope, confidence, joy and happiness in his life again. He dreams of one day going to America. I’ll be waiting, arms open.  

Travel Blog: Click here.

Spiritual Blog: Click here.

Book: Unbreakable Mind. (Print, Kindle, Audio)

Doing The Dirty Dishes Podcast: Watch or listen to episodes and subscribe: SpotifyApple PodcastBuzzsprout.  Also available on Google PodcastiHeartTunein, Amazon Alexa and Stitcher

Doing The Dirty Dishes YouTube channel – watch and subscribe.

Social Media linksTwitterInstagram and Linkedin.

Travel Blog links: Covid-19 stranded in NYC JFK and Maine – also travel stories on Ireland, Spain, SwedenBelgiumIcelandColombia (Espanol version), AmsterdamGermany, New HampshireTN and NYC.

Personal Website link where you can also find my bookphotos of my travels and updates on current projects.  

Thank you for your love and support.