for me after leaving my fifteen-year career I had no idea where I was going or how to get there, yet the anticipation of new possibilities was exciting. Some friends and colleagues thought I was insane to leave a successful career, but I listened to a voicAdventure is having the courage to take risks in life without the anxiety of being judged negatively or failing. If Columbus cared about his reputation, he would’ve played it safe and stuck to the theory of the flat world. And who knows when someone would have discovered the medical benefits of penicillin from bread mold How dull life would be without adventure!

In 1998, five breast cancer survivors and seven Princeton University women (all between the ages of twenty-two and sixty-one) climbed Alaska’s Mt. McKinley to raise money for breast cancer research. Although some of them had mountaineering experience, most didn’t—they were teachers, therapists, farmers, and tennis instructors.

While most of us may not ever climb a 20,000 foot mountain (I can safely say I won’t), there are still smaller adventures we can have to spice up your life. When I was thirty-eight years old, I walked into a tattoo shop with a drawing of a sun, moon and star to be etched into my ankle. It was like a rite of passage for me after leaving my fifteen-year career I had no idea where I was going or how to get there, yet the anticipation of new possibilities was exciting. Some friends and colleagues thought I was insane to leave a successful career, but I listened to a voice

have discovered the medical benefits of penicillin from bread mold How dull life would be without adventure!

In 1998, five breast cancer survivors and seven Princeton University women (all between the ages of twenty-two and sixty-one) climbed Alaska’s Mt. McKinley to raise money for breast cancer research. Although some of them had mountaineering experience, most didn’t—they were teachers, therapists, farmers, and tennis instructors.

While most of us may not ever climb a 20,000 foot mountain (I can safely say I won’t), there are still smaller adventures we can have to spice up your life. When I was thirty-eight years old, I walked into a tattoo shop with a drawing of a sun, moon and star to be etched into my ankle. It was like a rite of passage for me after leaving my fifteen-year career I had no idea where I was going or how to get there, yet the anticipation of new possibilities was exciting. Some friends and colleagues thought I was insane to leave a successful career, but I listened to a voic

’s Mt. McKinley to raise money for breast cancer research. Although some of them had mountaineering experience, most didn’t—they were teachers, therapists, farmers, and tennis instructors.

While most of us may not ever climb a 20,000 foot mountain (I can safely say I won’t), there are still smaller adventures we can have to spice up your life. When I was thirty-eight years old, I walked into a tattoo shop with a drawing of a sun, moon and star to be etched into my ankle. It was like a rite of passage for me after leaving my fifteen-year career I had no idea where I was going or how to get there, yet the anticipation of new possibilities was exciting. Some friends and colleagues thought I was insane to leave a successful career, but I listened to a voic

can safely say I won’t), there are still smaller adventures we can have to spice up your life. When I was thirty-eight years old, I walked into a tattoo shop with a drawing of a sun, moon and star to be etched into my ankle. It was like a rite of passage for me after leaving my fifteen-year career I had no idea where I was going or how to get there, yet the anticipation of new possibilities was exciting. Some friends and colleagues thought I was insane to leave a successful career, but I listened to a voicfor me after leaving my fifteen-year career I had no idea where I was going or how to get there, yet the anticipation of new possibilities was exciting. Some friends and colleagues thought I was insane to leave a successful career, but I listened to a voice inside me that beckoned like a blinking lighthouse to a ship in a misty fog. It said, “Do it, do it, DO IT.”

It was that same voice that encouraged me to move three thousand miles away from home when I was twenty-three and elope at twenty-six. These decisions were not the most popular with my Italian-American parents—OK, they were devastated by my actions! They believed a woman’s place was in the kitchen...serving her father until she got married to serve her husband. They believed in making all the safe choices in life, just like they did. A conviction guaranteed to render a life of unhappiness, just like theirs. Many parents discourage adventure as a way of protecting their children from disappointment. As a girl, I felt like a dog behind an invisible fence. Each time I was tempted to go beyond the line, I felt a shock to the back of my neck, usually in the form of my father’s voice saying, “What are you— an idiot? You’ll kill yourself doing that!” Thankfully, there were more times in my life when