At eye level on her refrigerator door, my mom has a magnet that says, “Don’t stop until you’re proud.” I have no memory of when that magnet came into her house. It may have been there the entire time my sister and I were growing up. It may have joined the magnet collection after we left the nest.

I prefer to believe the latter. That my mom, infinitely an example worth following, was coaching herself, not her kids. That she was reminding herself, every bright or dreary day, to persist. To keep putting one foot in front of the other, across the meadow or up the mountain, until the moment she could turn around and look back at the covered ground with a pride only an internal voice can give.

I am proud of Big Heart Hosting.

Eight years ago, when Jay and I left on our year-long adventure to live full-time on the road with our pup Odin, we had never spent a single night in an Airbnb. Originally, Airbnbs weren’t the point. They were a way to create the life we wanted, a means to an unconventional end. In fact, by the time we finally pulled up the website to book a place, we had already sold half our stuff and put the rest in storage. Our timeline was tight, and our Airbnb options were limited.

We could either go to:

a) Saskatoon, Canada (a place we had never heard of), or

b) Omaha, Nebraska (and no offense to Omaha, but no midwestern quits her job to strike out on a life-changing adventure and picks Omaha as the inaugural destination.)

And so, our very first Airbnb confirmation email came through, and it read: You’re going to Saskatoon!

All good things have a beginning.

Six months and many Airbnb stays later, we launched Big Heart Hosting from a small town in snowy Connecticut. By that point, we had been to Vancouver, the Sunshine Coast, Seattle, eastern Washington, Boise (our personal favorite), Salt Lake City, Denver, a farm in upstate New York, and now Connecticut. Our very first weekly email went to our wedding guest list, a group which had been small enough to fit in my mother-in-law’s living room three months prior.

We would go on to see Amarillo, Albuquerque, Joshua Tree, Highway 1, Navato, St. Louis, New York City, London, the Kentish countryside, and a horse farm in northern New Hampshire. (We’re a sucker for a farm stay.) A few Airbnbs we regretted. Most we adored. And all the while, the blog slowly grew in the background.

Jay and I are project people. We always have been. Our first collaborations were science experiments as high school lab partners. Our latest collaboration is parenthood. As a project, Big Heart Hosting has been the most delightful sandbox. While playing in it, I have learned more things than I could ever list here.

How to actually start a business (instead of just talk about starting a business)
How to write regularly without a school syllabus deadline
How to photograph and film interior spaces
How to build an audience of humans from around the world
How to show up consistently for that audience of humans who trust you
How to develop a recognizable brand
How to use online tools (Mailchimp, WordPress, Elementor, WooCommerce, so many tools..)
How to create and sell digital products
How to keep promises to myself
How to build until I’m proud
How to know when to stop

When we were living in Airbnbs, we worked all day and then spent our evenings exploring the city or town where we were staying. Every evening was different. A different brewery, a different hike, a different view. Today, we have a 4 year old and a 15 month old. Every evening is the same. The same dinner time, the same bathtub, the same bed. We have entered a new phase of life. It’s the inverse of travel. Now our life accumulates meaning by staying in the same place. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.

Originally, “You’re Going to Saskatoon” was supposed to be a book, not a blog post. I remember dreaming up the idea on a sleepless night at an Airbnb in Goldendale, Washington. I’m so grateful we built a blog instead. An author rarely gets to meet her readers. But a blogger gets to meet hers. Over the past eight years, Big Heart Hosting has been the catalyst for us to connect with incredible Airbnb hosts like you. We’ve connected with other folks living alongside us right here in the midwest of the US. We’ve connected with folks who live on the other side of the world.

At times, it’s hard for me to stretch my mind big enough to internalize the scale of this blog’s footprint. What a gift you have given me by reading Big Heart Hosting. “Thank you” seems like too small of a reply, like you’ve handed me a cup of coffee or a pen. How do you thank thousands of individuals who have imbued meaning into a project that made life more fulfilling? While the English language works on a more apt substitute, I’ll simply say this: your readership has meant so much more than you know. I am truly grateful.

All good things have an end.

I was once talking to a then-acquaintance, now-friend who said she hoped to live a project-based life. I was so struck by that sentence. It resonated so deeply with who I am. My memory of the happiest arcs in my life have been defined by the projects in which I was immersed.

I remember my Kindergarten class where I wrote “The Cloud in the Classroom.”
I remember the practice rooms where I learned to play Clair de Lune on the piano.
I remember the unairconditioned gym where I got stronger with my college volleyball team.
I remember my red chair where I read the British Norton Anthology set cover to cover.
And I remember the basement suite, the Murphy bed, the kitchenette, the sea foam walls, and the adjoining park where we stayed for 10 days in our very first Airbnb.

We went to Saskatoon. And then we didn’t stop until we were proud.