It all started with a dream. The dream to be free and roam the earth discovering exotic places and adventure. The dream of finding oneself, discovering what life is all about and finding true love somewhere out there. Yes, I am a bit of a romantic who follows the beating of his heart more than the logic of his brain. I must say, it's gotten me into trouble a few times, but hey, what's life without a bit of excitement?

Like many people I used to sit at a desk in front of a screen day in and day out. My office was a white washed art gallery in Beirut where I would spend the majority of the time by myself with the occasional guest walking in. I was the receptionist and bookshop manager answering calls, greeting guests, selling books and keeping a regular stock. I didn't care too much about the conceptual art on display but was lucky to have an amazing boss.

    But how did I get here? How did I end up with this dead end job after a semi successful 8 year career as a photographer? Times were tough and competition was high. It was either the most connected or wealthy people making it as photographers and I was neither, at least that's how it seemed to me. Maybe I could have pushed harder to make it or maybe something deep inside me didn't want to push at all because it had already tried that path and needed something more, something different. I could hardly pay my rent and sometimes didn't have enough money to eat and if it wasn't for the generosity and kindness of some friends who helped me out in dark times I wouldn't have survived. Sometimes I would sneak some food out of my neighbor and best friends fridge who's doors have always been open to me, don't tell him that though. Sure I could have run back to my family who I love and who have always been there for me no matter what, but I wanted to stand on my own two feet and in my eyes that would have been total submission. Call it pride or call it ego it was how it was and when I had the opportunity to take a job at the art gallery I did just that. It saved me financially and gave me a certain level of comfort but I knew it wouldn't keep me happy for long.

    As I would sit at my desk, I would watch the leaves of a large oak tree outside sway and rustle in the wind. My thoughts would take me to turquoise lagoons and colourful kites flown by happy people skimming across the water with no thoughts of the past or future. People just being people and enjoying the gifts of nature.

I was scared I'd be stuck in that mundane office life for the rest of my being. My soul was crying out to me, telling me it was dying a slow death. I didn't want to be like most other people who are unhappy with their lives, not knowing who they truly are, unwilling to take the risks that would carry them out of their comfort zones as they follow their dreams. For them they are just dreams, nothing more nothing less and eventually those dreams die out, or do they? I had seen people on the social media sites who had taken the steps and followed their hearts, the kiters, surfers and digital nomads and I longed to live their lives, to be like them. I knew it wouldn't be easy, specially for a poor, washed up photographer from the Middle East who's nationality and status made it near impossible to travel to most countries. I knew I would have to take a first step or at least a couple until I found a path I could explore. It wasn't until 4 years later at a friends funeral when a  stroke of luck came my way and with little bit of courage I was able to take that first step among many others to follow. As difficult as my path has been I have never looked back and am thankful to my inner voice for persuading me to keep going for it and never give up. As the whiskey advert reads "Keep On Walking".