On March 2, 2015, Mixte celebrated its third birthday. Jamie presented each of us with a present of our own – as if working for Mixte for three years wasn’t enough of a gift. The piece of paper read,

To celebrate our three years and your contributions, I introduce you to the Mixte Adventure Challenge. By August 2015, I’d like for each of you to take one paid day of vacation to have your own Mixte Adventure. You can do anything you’d like. You can volunteer. You can travel. You can take a class. You simply have to choose your own adventure and write about it for our blog.

Thank you for everything you do for Mixte.

The world was my oyster, and much like this blog, I didn’t know how to begin. So I’m going to do what my friend Lucas suggests, just as the way I began my adventure:

Begin at the beginning.

There was only one thing I knew for certain: This day would be a day of travel. I would be somewhere outside of San Diego. First I thought I’d road trip up the west coast with my surfboard to Vancouver, where I would ride bikes with my friends at Momentum Magazine and fly home (which I still want to do). Then it was Costa Rica. I spent no less than two months talking to friends and family about Costa Rica travels- where to surf, where to stay, how to communicate and get around, etc. I did research. I called travel companies. I read blogs. I was ready for my Mixte adventure to take me to Costa Rica.

On August 2, the night before my journey, I finish packing and pull out my passport. When I open it up to look at my ridiculous 15-year old picture, the expiration date catches my eye.

Expiration: August 3, 2015.

No.

I blink. Rapidly. I rub my eyes. I close the passport and open it, as if I was seeing things. With each passing second my grim reality sets in. The voice – this is your fault, you big dummy – grows louder in my head.

Noooo.

I pick up the phone and do the only thing I can think to do: Call my mom and dad. I explain the situation to them with less panic than you’d expect and a committed determination, one phrase repeating itself in my mind.

“I am going on vacation tomorrow.”

How I managed to be so clear-headed remains a mystery to me. I called the airline, moved some flights around and got myself on a flight the next morning for Kauai, Hawaii. No passport required.

I’m exhausted. I land in Kauai and take a cab to the nearest hotel, where I’d reserved a room for one night. I collapsed on the bed and digested the past 24 hours, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment, lethargy and happiness. “Vacation” has yet to set in.

I slept for 12 hours and woke up to the ocean outside my balcony.

It was a beautiful morning and the sun beamed into my eyes.

Kauai. Kauai. Kauai. You’re in Kauai.

I quickly adjusted to my new paradise and set out to explore the world around me. Life moves slowly on Kauai, an island whose main highway is one lane each way with a speed limit of 45 mph, which everyone follows. Roosters crow every morning, without exception, at 5 a.m. and somehow they remain an accepted part of island life. There are no malls. No overdone shopping centers. In their place you can find food trucks, waterfalls, hiking trails, rivers, campsites, farmers markets, luau’s, coconut farms, the occasional coffee shop and plenty of unoccupied, untouched land bordering long stretches of beaches, lush green, volcanic mountains and a crystal blue ocean.

The natural beauty of the island took my breath away every day for two weeks and I committed myself to enjoying the simplicity of Kauai life. Each day began with coffee and painting, drawing and journaling. I found the zen of doodling without purpose or time tracking an amazing feeling. From there, the surfboard I rented and I would meander to one of three long board surf spots – Kapalapaki Bay on the east coast, Poipu Beach on the south side or Hanalei Bay on the north shore. After sliding around on some waves and trying not to get sunburnt, I would relax on the beach, play in the water or discover the wonders of whatever part of the island I happened to be on that day. There was never any shortage of exploring to do, from Ke’e Beach, the Kalaulau trail and the Napali Coast, Waimea Canyon, roadside lookout, Opeakka Falls and so many more that I don’t know the name of but enjoyed nonetheless.

One of my favorite parts of the trip came from unplanned wandering. After driving along what I thought was a residential road leading nowhere, I came to a small river that had a few people swimming and playing. With zero agenda I kicked off my shoes and waded into the cold water. I walked along the riverbank and eventually came to a tree with a rope swing, clearly meant for launching eight or so feet into a deep part of the river below. I struggled getting the rope down and almost called it quits. As I walked away I encountered a Hawaiian family playing nearby and asked if they knew there was a rope swing down there. They said they did, and asked if I wanted to go try it out with them. Of course I did. After watching them go, I took my turn and swung with all my might, letting go at the height of my swing and cannonballing into the icy, fresh water below. After a few swings we parted ways and I smiled for the rest of the day after taking this picture:

The rest of the trip continued to leave me smiling. There were times when I found myself just floating in the ocean and smiling to myself, even laughing. Laughing because I’m one of those nerds who believe everything happens for a reason, and I was actually glad I didn’t make it to Costa Rica. If I had, I would have missed out on all of Kauai and the clarity my time on the island brought me, despite its hectic start. I may not have jumped off a rope swing into an anonymous river. I may not have finished my book. I may not have made friends I’ll know for a long time. I may not have slept in hammocks with a cat on my lap, watching the sunrise. I may not have gotten a tattoo. I may not have ever tried Thai Coconut Tea, which would have been an absolute tragedy. I may not have hiked a stunning coastline. I may not have glamped. I may not have showered outside at dusk. I may not have had mangos for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I may not have scraped my bum on reef, dinged my board and laughed the whole time. Every person I met, every sight I saw, every beach I bonded with and every Air B-n-B I stayed at all had meaning to me. And being given the opportunity to go on this journey and rehabilitate myself, alone, makes me all-the-more grateful to come home to a place I love and a job I never take for granted. I’ll go to Costa Rica one day – that I know for certain. But this time I was meant for Kauai and Kauai was meant for me.

Now back on the mainland, a world of shopping malls and 65 mph highways and millions of people, I’m happy and determined to keep a piece of Kauai’s beautiful simplicity with me.

Talking with Jamie when I got home, she told me her niece once flew to Costa Rica – and actually made it.

“Really? What’s that like?”

Cheers to three years of the marvelous Mixte, a company that does good for so many and continues to be so, so good for me.