About

We’d never even seen Philadelphia before. We didn’t know if we could safely wear orange and blue to an Eagles game, or what it’s like to work on the 24th of July. We didn’t know if we would ever again taste our favorite nachos or visit our favorite bookshop. Could we even complete the trek with a yowling cat in tow? And what would happen to the friends and family we left behind? But we felt we had to try—for us.

So, there I was, on my farewell tour of our home, looking for those oft-forgotten cell phone cords and familiar carpet stains, when through the basement window I spotted a Silver Pheasant, hiding under the deck on the back patio. Endemic to Asia, this bird nevertheless had wandered to the middle of our urban sprawl, miles from any suitable habitat, and dozens of miles from Utah’s only breeding farm, its most likely origin. But I had spotted this rarity, even for Asia, through that tiny window, in the last bedroom, during this our final farewell tour. Of all the gin joints, indeed.

If nothing else, the Silver Pheasant became an auspicious symbol for us, a sign to break routines sometimes, to take chances sometimes, to make changes in ourselves and our lives for greater happiness and fulfillment.

Then, we left for our new home hopeful. Now we embark eager to discover new perspectives, revising our outlook on life as we roam.

Acknowledgement

My deepest gratitude to my lovely wife, the inspiration and guiding light, my friends for their support and the idea of this site, and qualified mental health professionals everywhere. You know who you are.