Not Where to Live, But How to Live

So I set out on this trip to discover where to live. But as I travelled, I realized that might have been the wrong question. A better one might be: how do I want to live, and even more, how do I want to love?

While I love the nature in New Zealand, I found that it mostly caters to the part of me that loves solitude—the introspective hiker, the nature-lover in awe of a new landscape. But it didn’t quite speak to the entrepreneur in me. And while that part of me once took up too much space, I don’t want to leave her behind—I want to give her room in a more balanced way.

The place that’s come closest to allowing both sides of me to coexist has been Noosa in Australia. The quality of life there, and the range of it, feels right. People get up early to surf or walk before heading into the office. Compared to Stockholm—where for most of the year I’d rarely even see the sun—that really puts things into perspective.

In Sweden, and maybe in the north in general, we divide our lives by the year. We work and watch TV through the winter, and drink sunlight in the summer. That’s also how daylight is distributed. In Australia and New Zealand, it’s more of a daily rhythm. And I’m starting to think there’s something much healthier about that. You get to contemplate work while on a surfboard, and feel the benefits of the surfboard while at your desk.

So how do I want to live? I want to live in a way where every day gives space for something fun and energizing, and also hits me with the pleasure and dopamine of creating something meaningful.

One thing I hadn’t realized before this trip is how quickly you get a feeling for a place. The vibe is in the details—how a town looks when you drive in, how the buildings are cared for, what nature surrounds you, how clean the public bathrooms are, what kind of conversations happen in cafés, and how the waitstaff treat you. All of that adds up. That’s how I realized that many towns on the North Island are still sitting in tension between Māori and colonial histories, that Byron Bay and its surroundings are a little too spiritually intense for where I’m at, and that Queenstown is amazing, but really just about the outdoors.

So how do I want to live? I want to live in a place where the vibe says: you’re going to live your best life here. A place that supports both depth and delight.

So this fall, I’m hitting the road again—in a caravan this time—building my new company, enjoying nature, and looking for (or hopefully attracting ;)) the people. Because that’s the piece of the puzzle that’s still missing.