“And this—this is your room,” he said. I stepped through the door, and my mouth fell agape. Hanging above the bed was a panorama of Mt Rainier; next to the closet, the North Cascades; and on the far wall, a portrait of Mont Blanc, reflected in a glassy alpine lake.

While driving to a friend’s house last summer, I had a vision. It appeared like a deer in the headlights. As soon as I arrived, I demanded a paper and pen. She happily obliged, easily detecting I was onto one of my wild hairs. I kneeled at the coffee table and a sketch emerged, a triangle with points labeled: coaching, creative, capital. Beside it, a smaller triangle: people, planet, profit.

Standing at the kitchen sink, that’s when it hit me. I finally understood what it means to live off the land. A year ago, while driving back to the Lower 48 from Alaska, I passed through a tiny corner of the Yukon Territory. An area roughly the size of California, its total population is 38,000. Never in my life had I seen a place so wild, so unadulterated…

Due to their agile, lightweight design, gliders can land in places most planes can’t. For example, having encountered a paucity of lift, it is not uncommon for a pilot to simply cut her losses, pick a good spot, and touch down in a grassy field. We call this “landing out.”

I taped it to my MacBook. Over the past year, only two mantras have claimed this choice piece of real estate: Defeat resistance, and now, Break trail. Every day when I get to the office, I see these words.

Our lives are the sum of micro movements. Every second of every day, an infinite number of unpredictable factors wholly predict the course we travel—the people we meet, our life experiences and where we find ourselves—right here, right now. Independently, these factors seem trivial. A butterfly in Bali couldn’t possibly cause a hurricane in Bermuda. Or, could it?

As someone who makes her living working remotely, it's hard to admit that the only way to truly connect with someone is to look them in the eyes.  Over the past two weeks, I have looked more strangers in the eye, many in the throes of some of their deepest struggles, and offered these words: "Buen Camino." The American equivalent? "Happy trails." The literal translation: "Good way."

There are two types of people in the world: those who let their dogs snuggle in bed with them, and those who relegate them to the floor. The former results in dog hair on the sheets. The latter is an example of boundaries. In my dream world, I am the latter.

It’s hard to say when exactly she was conceived. Like many parents-to-be, our studio was eager to decide on her name. There were many scribbled in journals, recorded in voice memos and typed into Google Docs. But this one just kept coming around: karma.