The Denver Do: Move to Plymouth

Overview: Up to this point, the Denver Do has focused on getting you, my friends and fellow travelers, assimilated and creative in Denver. It was a series aimed at transplants to the little city. Well, my articles must have been so great that so many of you transplants showed up and pushed me right out! The Denver Do now focuses on what a Denver-ite ought to do when traveling the world. The first episode is Step 1: migrate! Join me, Do-ers, as I guide you through this next series of fun, economical, and silly adventures...
Expected Cost: Variable. Ways to save include booking flights on Icelandair, where popular conspiracy theorists surmise that every flight encounters an unexpected layover in the capital. Once there, you will surely decide that staying in the airport all day is less desirable that paying who-knows-what in Icelandic currency to day-trip to the Blue Lagoon. Moreover, costs of the move can be displaced by the sales of personal items, like bikes/ cars/ apartments, and the good luck to smile at the right stranger. Therefore, this Denver-ite recommends you save $4,000 USD, pray for a job when you arrive, and dive in.
Solo Savvy: This trip is best when taken alone. After all, saving money and exploring is much easier when you've only got one mouth to feed and two legs to guide.
Expected Time: Total transit from Denver to Iceland to London to Plymouth, for this traveler, was around 30 hours. Variables include burst pipes on planes, forays into natural fountains, the good graces of a kind-hearted employer, compassionate cab-drivers from Romnania, and more.
Requirements: Three large suitcases; international chargers for electronic devices; flexibility that allows one to fold in half to sleep in transit; being at least 18 years of age, so when all is lost, one can apply the age-old coping mechanisms of beer and barstools.
The Do: The most important part of this "do" is following the guidelines outlined in my previous post, "Intentuition." To begin with, let The World know about your goals. Decide that you will be nice and confidant with every person you meet and begin meeting them. Start small: put in some applications to see why you are denied...sell a few household items you definitely don't need...nurture the ideas of senior citizens and fathers...continuously re-evaluate your expectations and your gut. If possible, get a job, but if not possible, have faith that the World Machine will probably recognize your lack of income and adjust accordingly. Move in with your grandparents for a month and get a second job at a "fast-casual" restaurant so that you can save money. Added benefits include free food and re-learning the ability to be with people 24/7 after years of living alone (a handy skill when one encounters "flatmates" upon arrival). Book your trip in advance but pay the extra money to avoid too many layovers- you will save money by not losing your luggage or your brain. Smile honestly when you put your two-weeks in; say goodbye.
You will most definitely encounter "problems" when traveling, which should be interpreted as little opportunities. For instance, you will most likely get stuck in Iceland. Iceland makes its money by allowing people like you to get stuck within it's volcanic borders, so say "thank-you" and book the bus to the Blue Lagoon. Don't waste money on a swimsuit in case you didn't pack one on your carry-on; wear a sports bra and stretchy gym pants because it's Europe so nobody cares. Or, if they do, you don't. Promptly float to the furthest corner and dig your hands into the mineral sand on the bottom of the weird bath/lake. Coat your face in the white sludge and float, head above water, to the nearest rock-seat. Pass out carefully, because if you let your head roll you will find yourself snoring into a mixture of water and sludge. Pause mid-nap to purchase a cold salmon salad for threethousandjillionIcelandicdollars; grab a juice; and fall back asleep. Retreat to the locker room with plenty of time to spare. You will have to be creative with your shower/changing, because you're probably not prepared for this excursion and may need to reallocate personal items to serve as towels, shoes, etc. Make sure you stop by the bar to buy a beer before hopping back on the bus to the airport!
If at all possible, try to organize a cab to take you from the airport in London to your home in Plymouth. All that beer and spring water will make you tired. Your cab driver is a great first conversational resource to keep you awake and excited. Ask him where he's from, because it's probably not London. Don't worry about falling asleep in mid-sentence; it makes me you seem "mysterious" or "insane," which are both perfectly interesting and acceptable things to be. Hopefully, you will arrive to a group of flatmates shouting "USA" in "football" cheers, beers in hand. Smile graciously, chug your beer, and thank God that you are tired enough to fall asleep despite the noise.
That's all for this week, Do-ers. You've got quite the adventure ahead of you. Remember the key lessons of Intentuition, be prepared to be completely unprepared, and giggle the entire way. The World Machine is on your side!

Intentuition

Intentuition: The reflective and faithful active pursuit of one's dreams; best when used in conjunction with "wine" and "Zumba."

I am currently sitting in a greasy-spoon café at Denver International Airport waiting for my infinitely delayed Icelandic flight. It will take me to Reykjavik, where I will attempt to woo a cute Icelandic boy before my connection to Gatwick, London. Then, I will not attempt to woo Clive, the nice man my new company hired to drive me to Plymouth, UK. When I arrive, I will be "here:" the pinnacle of my most recent ambition. I will be here because a few months ago I decided that it was time for me to get serious about checking one big item off my bucket list: to live and work abroad. Rather than plummet toward my goal like March 3000 jet(a route for which I boast many frequent flyer miles), I decided to tie a scarf around my neck and cruise in on the wings of a glider. And in this decidedly observant focus on my dream, I learned the power of two words: intention and intuition.
Any halfway new-age (annually or mentally) person has probably encountered some pseudo-yogi or dreamy entrepreneur talk about "setting an intention" for whatever pursuit they find thieves in. In the 90's the same concept was explored through workshops about "vision boards;" in the 80's, it was found in self-help books about "visualizing your dreams coming true." In the 70's, I believe this was called "take acid while hitchhiking," but I might be wrong about that (I'm only 25, see). Although the term "intention" may be a new buzzword, it's simply the new means to explain the power of positive thought. When these confidant yogis and executives describe "setting an intention," it can seem like some sort of magical process. Want it, see it, believe it, live it. Buy now for an instant rebate! However, I think intention actually has a lot more to do with another fundamental principle in self-realization: setting goals. For instance, "I intend to eat a cookie" is less likely to come true unless paired with an actionable means of pursuit; I.e. "I intend to get all the ingredients I need to make and eat a cookie." We can intend anything we want, but unless we put ourselves in the right position to receive it, it's actualization is akin to miraculous. Isn't "I intend to get wet" a lot more sensical than "I intend it to rain?"
I readily acknowledge the vagaries and benefits of setting intentions around qualitative values and self-fulfillment. "I intend to live a happy, healthy life" is the goal of one important woman I know (my Mom, duh). In that expansive intention, she doesn't always know how to explicitly state what will lead to happiness or health. In fact, it's counterproductive to create a set of rules around that intention. You are going to be a lot happier if you intend to wear sunglasses on a bright day, for instance. Herein lies the real difficulty in intending something to be true: setting intentions involves a certain allotment for that which cannot be controlled. To really grab an intention, you must also let go of so many attempts to control it. An intention really means, "I am going to be really good and hopefully Santa/God will notice." How does one know when our intentions pull us too far from the nearest airport? How do they know when to replace the gas line with the top of the clouds? That determination is called intuition.
Intuition allows us to know when our souls want something. It shows us when to take and when to leave, when to try harder or to stop trying, and when you better hop on that jet because the glider is so obsolete. I don't think that this grand adventure on which I now embark could have worked 1/2 as well if I hadn't navigated my intention with a constant intuitive dialogue. I decided from day one that this needed to be a gradual process. I chose a route that felt valid but kept snacks onboard just in case. It involved a lot of outward discussion: What does my Dad think about this economic decision? Does my former boss think this job would be a good fit? Am I about to sublet my apartment to a crazy woman? I listened, slept on it, and then made a move. Rinse and repeat. And guess what? With each minor intention, my planes assembled themselves for liftoff. I took some advice and applied for a job...and got an interview...and an offer...and a flat...and a friend...and a flight...What was this luck, I kept wondering? I rode that wind of delight. I acted when acting felt right and went to bed when my Grandma did. Intuitively, I just knew that my ambitions would find their way directly to my intentions, if I stayed observant within them. Intuitively, enough people and Zumba classes just made it feel right.
I don't think I could have achieved this goal if it hadn't been for many years of delayed flights. And considering that this plane still hasn't lifted off, I bet I'll have quite a few more. But guess what? I know I'll get here! Somehow, I intuitively understand that this is here and where I'm going. I've set the intuitive intention. Maybe I'll end up back on my parent's couch tonight or next year. But hey, I hear the new jetliners have beds in them. There's nowhere to go but up!