The Woman on the Ferry: Introduction

Welcome to a sneak peek of my upcoming book, The Woman on the Ferry: A Journey of 1,000 Miles to Redefine Success and Discover Joy. I hope this complimentary post resonates with you and sparks a sense of adventure and introspection. If you find value in this journey, I'd be thrilled for you to become a paid subscriber to Nature Listening Points. Join me as we explore new definitions of success and uncover the joys that life has to offer.

Introduction

As I embarked on this journey to redefine success, I felt a gnawing sense of unease. Throughout my career, I’ve excelled at writing step-by-step guides, presenting groundbreaking research, and championing justice system reforms. Each task had a clear destination, a well-defined endpoint. But now, as I dared to dismantle our traditional, materialistic, and externally-driven notion of success, I realized I was venturing into uncharted waters. How could I write a book without knowing the ending?

For as long as I can remember, my life has been driven by external metrics. The grades on my report card, the number of chores completed, the balance in my savings account, the degrees earned, the value of my assets, the size of my house, book sales, and the number of subscribers to my content. And I know I’m not alone in this. We've all been conditioned to gauge our worth by societal standards: the length of our marriages, our children’s academic achievements, our memberships in exclusive clubs, our vacation homes, our first-class airline seats. Success, it seems, is defined by what we have, what we’ve done, and how we measure up to the expectations of others.

But life, in its unpredictable way, changes our circumstances and with them, our perspective on what truly matters. One day, we’re training for our first marathon; the next, we’re learning to walk again after an injury. We plan a grand wedding and dream of happily ever after, only to find ourselves feeling trapped and contemplating divorce years later. In the face of such seismic shifts, our definition of success must evolve.

I’ve seen friends and acquaintances eagerly anticipate retirement, only to discover they lacked the hobbies, resources, or energy to build a fulfilling new life. Their identities were so enmeshed with their careers that, without work, they slipped into depression, neglected their health, and struggled to find their way. This raises a profound question: Who are we, stripped of our accomplishments and setbacks? Are we more than the sum of our successes and failures?

As I pondered the true meaning of success, one thing became startlingly clear: it’s not about materialism or status. If I have to don a skirt and heels to impress others, I will have betrayed my authentic self. If I move into a mansion and acquire a private jet, I will have lost touch with the simple joys of life, succumbing to the trappings of conspicuous consumption for the sake of appearances. That is not who I am.

In my search for answers, I began to reflect on the remarkable people I’ve encountered throughout my life. And there’s one woman, one fleeting encounter, that has left an indelible mark on my soul. I don’t know her name, but her impact on me was profound. Let me tell you about the woman on the ferry.

One of the perks—and occasional hardships—of my professional career was frequent travel. Most of the time, the locations were anything but exotic: courthouses in West Virginia, conferences in Salt Lake City, meetings in Washington, DC. But occasionally, I was fortunate enough to combine business with pleasure. And this is how I found myself in the U.S. Virgin Islands. I brought my 12-year-old child with me, and we planned a wonderful outing for my day off. Our mission: a snuba adventure on the island of St. John.

Snuba is a mix of snorkeling and scuba diving. For me, it felt like a safe bet. I grew up on a dairy farm in Wisconsin, with parents who didn’t swim, in a small town without a swimming pool. I learned basic strokes in college, but I’m not very comfortable in water. The snuba adventure came with a professional guide, who gave us basic instruction and set up our equipment—a floating raft, breathing apparatus, and oxygen tanks. And since my child loved the water, it was something we could both enjoy.

As the day arrived, we boarded the ferry in St. Thomas, headed to Cruz Bay on the island of St. John. We climbed the stairs to find seating on the upper deck. The sun was shining, and a slight breeze swept through our hair, making it another perfect day in the Caribbean.

As we enjoyed the ride, an older woman, sitting alone, caught my eye. She was taking in the moment with a serene smile on her face. She looked so content, so comfortable in her own skin. And I thought to myself, “This woman knows the secret to life.” Her presence radiated a calm, joyful energy that was impossible to ignore. I kept glancing over at her, wishing I could hear her story.

We got off the ferry at Cruz Bay and headed to the open-air taxis awaiting the tourists. As we settled into our seats, the older woman stepped aboard. We reached our stop, and the woman also got off. We walked together toward the beach adventure shack, where we learned we would be on the same snuba trip. Coincidence? Or providence? The stars were aligning. We met our guide, got our equipment, and walked on the beach toward the raft.

During our walk, she told me her story. She had been married for over 50 years. If we’re measuring success by the number of years married, she aced the exam. She told me that they dreamed about their retirement years, finally having the time to travel the world and experience new adventures. That day came, and his new pastime was sitting in front of the television. She said, “I spent my entire life doing what I was supposed to do. I played by the rules. I just couldn’t see spending the rest of my life sitting in a rocking chair watching the world go by. There’s too much to see. Too much to experience.” So, she left her husband.

She continued her story, “My friends thought I was crazy. I had the husband. I had security. But I was dying inside. I wanted a different life, one filled with colorful sunsets, incredible experiences, and new friends. I’m here on the island volunteering for a conservancy organization. I am finally doing the things I had dreamed about.”

I’d like to tell you that we exchanged names and emails after our snuba trip and that we wrote to each other over the years. But I can’t. I never saw her again. At the time, I didn’t realize how profound meeting her was. As the years have passed, as I see myself edging toward her age, I think of her more frequently.

As I set out on this mission to redefine success, I am guided by the memory of the woman on the ferry. And I realize that she is my happy ending. She’s my measure of success. To feel comfortable in my own skin, to love my own company, to look at the world with awe and wonder, to throw convention to the wind. Is that the secret? Is it to do the things that have your friends whispering in the corner, “Has she lost her mind?”

Here’s my plan: Turn my measure of success from artificial, materialistic, numerically-based achievements into building a life so overfilled with joy that I glow. When I leave this world, I want to leave behind an energy field that inspires others for generations to come. My name isn’t important. Nor is my title, degree, or belongings. I want to be the woman on the ferry.

It’s a tall order. But I believe in magic. Those failures I’ve encountered? They’re fuel to power a new way of living that honors my creativity. The material success I’ve had gives me the opportunity to put aside my worries and focus on nothing but the present. It affords me the luxury of jumping into my RV and living close to nature for years if I want. There must be some reason why these coincidental encounters are shaping my life.

This book is about embracing the journey itself—a journey of self-discovery, courage, and the relentless pursuit of a life that ignites our souls. And I knew I couldn’t write this book sitting in front of a laptop, day after day. I can’t write about joy without experiencing it. The answers I seek come when I watch the sun break over the horizon, listen to the crickets sing at night, soak in the smell of pine forests, and sit by a thundering waterfall. Nature and hiking are my tickets to joy, and the very act of hiking the trails brings clarity and answers to the deepest questions of life.

Just as I was feeling uncertain about this book and whether I was worthy, the woman on the ferry came to me in my dreams. She said,

Let the trees talk.

Let the winds whisper.

Let the stars light the way.

And so, I open myself to the wisdom of the universe. I am the vessel for the woman on the ferry’s wisdom, eagerly awaiting the lessons she has yet to reveal. So here we go, my friends. Off on the adventure of a lifetime, guided by the radiant spirit of the woman on the ferry. Together, we will listen, observe, and absorb the wisdom that unfolds before us, recognizing that true success lies not in external measures, but in the joy, authenticity, and purpose we cultivate within ourselves.