“I have learned that if one advances in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” - Henry David Thoreau

Not too long ago, I was driving my brand new Honda Civic to my corporate marketing job and sitting in an artificially-lit, climate-controlled cubicle for eight to ten hours every work day.

I was bringing home a nice paycheck. But I felt empty inside. I couldn’t be who I really was. I rarely talked about the things that mattered to me. I was wearing a costume, conforming to a social mask. So I did something that it seems few people dare to do in their lifetimes. Without any specific plan etched out, I quit my job, sold my car (and nearly all of my other belongings) and moved to Mexico.

Lesson #1: When you envision your dream, and choose to create it, don’t be dissuaded or discouraged by the incredulousness (and/or masked envy) of others.

Mexico?! You’re not the first to react that way. My family and most of my friends looked at me like I’d grown another head when I told them about my decision. The media may have led you to believe that this entire country is in a state of violent chaos, but the small fishing village outside of Cancun that is now my home is as peaceful and vibrant as can be.

I have no real timeline, or list of goals, or detailed vision. I simply took a leap and am keeping myself open to whatever presents itself. Maybe I’ll stay here for a year; maybe the wind will carry me elsewhere. It was really hard for everyone around me to understand and accept this ambiguity. But it is the nature of the life I’m rebuilding: open, dynamic, flowing, free.

Lesson #2: Don’t follow money. When you follow your heart, money follows you.

I’m a writer at heart, and after pushing my craft aside in exchange for the security of a salary, this is the first time I’ve devoted my full time and energy to loving my living. It hasn’t been easy. While I’m lucky to be able to work from anywhere (well, anywhere with wifi), any freelance writer will tell you that it takes a lot of drive and determination to make ends meet.

So, between articles, I was bartending on the beach, but we recently got shut down due to liquor license issues (management had been paying someone under the table, as was custom, but when the new mayor was elected all bets were off). I saved up a nice cushion before I left, which I’d highly recommend if you’re venturing into the abyss of unplanned adventure, and are able to do so. I get anxious as I chip into my savings, but every time I stop worrying and just keep pursuing what I love, I’ve found that my needs are taken care of. Somehow, someway, the money comes. This is not only true for me; it has been experienced and noted and written about by countless others. It is a universal principle.

I’ve picked up a couple of odd jobs from friends here and there, and have been keeping my eyes open for other ways to earn some cash and to simplify my lifestyle. Which, by the way, is completely turned upside down from anything I’ve ever been accustomed to.

Lesson #3: Within the abundant potential of a self-built lifestyle, beware the line between liberty and laziness.

I have no schedule. I walk and ride my bike everywhere. I stop what I’m doing to watch the breathtaking sunsets or chase the honey guy down the street for a fresh bottle. I buy produce and yard eggs from the local fruterías and fresh-caught fish from the fishermen. Every week brings the surprise of a different homemade treat, as I greet kids and little old folks who walk the sand and streets with tamales or coconut candies or cups of fruit with lime and chile.

I have an incredible amount of freedom, which is at once explosively liberating and overwhelmingly debilitating. I can do, or not do, anything I want. I can sleep until noon. I can spend all day in my undies. I can splash in the ocean or travel to ancient pyramids for days at a time with no one to report to or wonder where I am.

In Spanish, there’s a word called libertinaje, which is very similar to the word for freedom, libertad. The subtle difference is that libertinaje refers to such a degree of freedom that one begins to abuse it, to become apathetic or careless.

It’s interesting that they have a word for that here, where few people keep regular working hours and life moves at a meandering, sometimes glacial pace; where the mañana attitude (“it can wait ‘til tomorrow”) is the norm and no one ever gets anywhere on time. I have to make a conscious effort every day to not let my libertad spill over into the realm of libertinaje.

Lesson #4: Adjustment takes many shapes and forms.

While completely reinventing your entire life on your own terms is exhilarating and rewarding, I won’t hide or deny the fact that it’s extremely difficult. At least it has been for me.

In one day, I went from a being a seasoned local to a clueless foreigner. I’m alone a lot more than I’ve ever been before. I have to ask a lot of questions, about everything, to everyone, and although I speak Spanish well, every day I realize there’s more I don’t know how to say.

I got an ugly case of "prickly heat," full-body hives, while acclimating to the intense sun when I first arrived. And although I rarely got sick at home, I spent an entire week in bed with a bacterial infection a couple weeks back.

I am very, very rarely living within any kind of comfort zone. I’m constantly challenged, constantly learning and growing, many times through awkward moments and pangs of embarrassment or frustration. You have to be patient with yourself, and allow your mind and body to slowly ease into your new surroundings.

It's really a beautiful thing though, to allow yourself that vulnerability. So what if I make an ass of myself sometimes? Don't we all? Isn't that how anyone who's savvy at anything gets to be that way?

Lesson #5: Allow yourself the time and emotional space to let the process unfold.

Recently, huge surges of loneliness and homesickness have set in. Sometimes I feel so emancipated and happy, like absolutely anything is possible; other times I seriously think about saying screw it all and moving back home.

I'm not used to being an outsider. I'm not used to getting lost everywhere I go or not knowing where the bus stops or that you're supposed to tip your grocery baggers or that only the gringos go to the beach at high noon.

It has definitely been a complex transition. I’m still learning to drop and reprogram the old paradigms I brought with me from the States; that little voice that says I’m supposed to have a daily agenda, that playtime is for the weekends, that I’m not accomplishing anything if I’m not busy and stressed as all hell most of the time.

But that’s exactly why I came here. To remember, and to prove to myself, that life IS playtime. That you can pay rent and buy groceries while also dancing to loud music or cooking a fresh meal or going to the beach when the mood strikes.

As long as you can find a healthy balance, living this way actually feels much more natural. And if you’re open to receive your own lessons, to learn from them and keep moving forward even if you get some sand between the cheeks along the way, you’ll experience an unmatched fulfillment in the knowledge that only you stand between your dreams and your reality.

Katie Walsh is a freelance reporter, writer and editor passionate about food and all things cultural. After spending the first chapter of life in her native Austin, Texas, she is now based outside of Cancun, Mexico, among the sparkling beaches and ancient heartland of the Riviera Maya.  You can follow her Texican spirit-seeking adventures at her blog Cooltoura*Soul.