What the Horses Leave With Us

Pegasus Horse Holiday, Lake Saimaa · August 2026

What stays with us after a journey?

Sometimes it is not the place we expected. Not even the experience we travelled for.

Sometimes it is a feeling.

This August, I hosted two women at Blueberry Villa on Lake Saimaa for a slow travel horse holiday with Pegasus Reiterreisen. They arrived from different countries, different generations and with very different histories with horses.

Esther, 85, came from Switzerland. She has ridden all over the world. Long trail rides in South America, South Africa, Canada and beyond. Days spent in the saddle, travelling through landscapes on horseback. She still has two horses of her own and continues to ride, travel and go out into the world on her own.

Cathi, 28, a psychology student from Germany, arrived on her first solo trip. Her first horse holiday. She had not ridden for two years.

One has a lifetime of horse journeys behind her.

The other may have just begun.

For a few days, their paths met here in Finnish Lakeland.

The horses are part of the journey

This is a horse holiday, but it is not only about riding.

That distinction matters to me.

The horses become our companions in experiencing the landscape. We walk to them together. We spend time around them. We begin in the arena when needed and gradually move onto the trails.

Then we ride.

Through Finnish forest and wilderness. Along quiet paths and through a pear orchard, where we could reach from horseback to pick ripe pears from the trees and eat them together with the horses.

There is time.

Time to notice the swans.

Time to hear the birds.

Time to see what is growing beside the trail.

Time to talk, and time not to.

At Blueberry Villa, the same rhythm continues.

Fire and water

One of the things that struck both women was the immersion in nature.

At the lakeside sauna, fire and water became very real.

We lit the wood-burning sauna stove with firewood from our own forest. We watched the flames through the small window of the stove and listened to the wood crackling.

Outside was Lake Saimaa.

Fire inside. Water outside.

Heat on the skin. The smell of burning wood. Steam rising from the sauna stones. And the birch whisks. The cool lake waiting only a few steps away. Bare feet. Wind. Silence.

This is sensory awareness in its simplest form. We do not have to intellectualise it. The body notices before the mind needs to understand.

The fire became part of our food as well. I smoked salmon for us, and there was joy not only in eating it but in watching and waiting as it slowly cooked. Like so much of what we ate during these days, the pleasure began before the food reached the table.

During Pilates on the terrace, we watched birds flying above us and clouds slowly moving across the sky.

Sitting on the pier, the reeds swayed along the lakeshore.

We took the boat across the waters of Lake Saimaa to visit Stone Age rock paintings, marks left by people who lived beside these waters thousands of years before us.

And we ate from the landscape around us.

Nettle and herbs. Chanterelles. Tomatoes from the garden. Blueberries, raspberries, lingonberries and blackcurrants. Barley, rye bread, vegetables, fresh, simple food.

Esther told me she eats everything. Fresh food, movement, curiosity, some sun and no need for vitamins.

At 85, you listen.

How do you stay young?

I found myself observing Esther.

Her excitement about everything was infectious.

At 85, after travelling and riding around the world, she was still curious.

Still interested.

Still willing to go somewhere new on her own.

Still taking care of two horses.

Still choosing movement, either you go to the gym or have a horse.

Still very much in the present.

When we talked about how she stays young, there was no complicated formula. There was curiosity, movement, fresh food and continuing to participate in life rather than watching it pass.

Perhaps most importantly, there was an openness to what came next.

I watched her experience Lake Saimaa with the enthusiasm of someone seeing the world for the first time.

And yet she has seen so much of it.

Having something of your own

Our conversations naturally travelled beyond horses.

We talked about relationships and the importance of having something that is your own, even when you share your life with someone.

A partner does not necessarily need to love the same things you do. Perhaps what matters more is understanding what makes the other person feel alive, and giving each other the space to follow it.

For one person, that might be horses. For another, something completely different.

You can agree on the terms of your life together so that both have time for what they love. Time to travel, ride, create, explore or simply be somewhere on their own.

There is something important in this.

We don't have to get all our happiness from each other. We can have our own passions, experiences and sources of joy and then bring that happiness back into the life we share.

Perhaps having something of your own doesn't take you away from each other.

Perhaps it is also one of the ways we remain happy together.

And perhaps that is another form of empowerment: knowing what brings you alive and allowing yourself to follow it.

The first journey

With Cathi, I witnessed something different.

This was her first solo trip and her first horse holiday. Simply deciding to come required trust.

She had not ridden for two years. We started in the arena, allowing her to reconnect with the horse and with herself before heading onto longer trails.

Then something began to change.

One image has stayed with me.

Cathi with the horses on the pasture.

The happiness on her face was completely open. Nothing needed to be added to that moment.

She had done it.

She had travelled alone. She had returned to horses. She had moved from the arena into the forest and onto the trails. She had trusted herself enough to begin.

What stayed with her was empowerment.

She also spoke about two things she wanted to take home with her: the importance of pausing and the importance of remaining grateful for what she already has.

The German word Achtsamkeit came into our conversations.

Mindfulness. Awareness. Paying attention.

Noticing your life while you are actually living it.

What stayed with them

At the end of a transformative journey, after reflecting along the way, I often return to a simple question:

What struck you? And what will stay with you?

The answers are rarely a list of sights.

What stayed from these days was hospitality.

A special energy.

A feeling of being newborn.

Empowerment.

Gratitude.

Achtsamkeit.

The horses were there throughout, but so were the forest, lake, sauna, food, walking, conversations, silence and companionship.

They all became part of the same experience.

Esther told me I was the best host she had ever had. Coming from a woman who has travelled so extensively around the world, her words touched me deeply.

But what mattered even more was seeing what happened while we were here together.

What stayed with me

As a host and coach, I don't stand outside these journeys.

They affect me too.

What stayed with me was Cathi's open happiness when she was with the horses on the pasture.

And Esther's excitement for everything.

Her love of life.

Two women, 57 years apart in age.

One taking her first solo journey.

One still taking solo journeys at 85.

Perhaps they were not so different after all.

Both were willing to go.

Both were curious about what might happen.

Both allowed themselves to be present. And are now my friends.

And both reminded me that there is no particular age at which we are supposed to stop discovering ourselves or to stop making room for what makes us feel alive.

How this slow travel horse holiday works

The idea behind my slow travel horse retreats is not to fill every hour.

It is the opposite.

We use horses, nature and the Finnish way of living close to the elements to create space.

We ride, but we also walk.

We eat, but we notice where the food comes from.

We sauna, swim and sit beside the lake.

We watch the fire, cook with it and feel the cold water against our skin.

We explore the Finnish forest and the ancient landscape of Lake Saimaa, including travelling by boat to the Stone Age rock paintings.

We pause.

We use sensory awareness and reflective conversations to notice what is happening within us as we travel.

There is no single outcome we are trying to reach. What emerges is different for everyone.

For one person, it may be rediscovering a passion that has always been there.

For another, it may be discovering the confidence to travel alone.

It may be gratitude for the life waiting at home.

It may be understanding that you need more space for something you love.

Or it may simply be remembering what it feels like to be fully present.

And slowly, the journey becomes about more than where we have been.

It becomes about what we will carry home.

Esther plans to return.

Cathi plans to continue exploring the world through other horse holidays.

The horses will stay with her.

And these days at Lake Saimaa will stay with all three of us.

That, to me, is what transformative travel can do.

You leave the place. But something of the journey continues travelling with you.

Follow your nature.

You can book your Slow Travel Horse Holiday for the 2026 autumn and 2027 summer now via Pegasus. More here.

— Mirka Kristiina Bruun
The Finnish Happiness Coach
Founder, The Journey Studio

Back in Time

A Saturday at Xaló Market

I return to the Xaló Saturday market every so often.

Sometimes I go searching for something particular. Most often, I go simply to wander along the riverside; to enjoy the music, the hum of mixed European languages, and the possibility of unexpected treasures.

In sunny February, when spring quietly breaks winter’s spell and almond trees begin to bloom, the village feels especially alive. Cyclists move through the narrow streets. Conversations flow in Spanish, Dutch, German, French, English. The market becomes a meeting place of seasons and stories.

A Gift of Time

This week my son is visiting with his friends. I asked him to find a birthday gift during our Xaló day; something I would buy for him, a small reminder of time spent together here.

I wasn’t looking for anything myself. I was simply following the young ones, enjoying their reflections, their laughter, their rhythm.

And yet.

It didn’t take long before I found myself standing before a stack of vinyl records. Ever since restoring the old record player at Blueberry Villa, these records have been quietly calling me.

Recently back in the western saddle with a new quarter gelding as a coachee, I instinctively picked up My Country – Songs, die dir Freiheit geben, with voices like Johnny Cash and Kenny Rogers.

Two euros later, “Country roads, take me home” accompanied me along the riverbank.

Treasures That Carry Stories

There is something about touching and even smelling objects from the past.

They carry lives lived.
Dreams pursued.
Time that has passed and yet lingers.

I have never felt lighter than I do now. Owning less. Needing less.

I admire the handbags I once collected. I smile at the Tiffany lamps I once searched for. Letting go has brought me closer to what truly matters.

I bought one more thing: Jules Verne’s Viaje al Centro de la Tierra in Spanish. It feels like a promise. This will be the first full book I read in my chosen language.

And then, a simple green glass jar for the stones I collect during my walks. It has been empty for a long time. Now it waits again.

The Village That Holds Stories

Our final stop was the Xaló vintage store, always worth visiting. Its owner, a photographer, once captured Finnish band Hanoi Rocks in the 1980s. The shop feels like a museum disguised as a boutique.

Whenever I bring people here, we rarely leave empty-handed. This time, my son found a shirt that felt right. Not because it was needed but because it resonated.

What Is Calling You?

During my retreats, I bring guests to this market at the end of their stay.

Before we begin wandering, I ask them to pause.

To listen.

What is calling you here?
What do you want to carry forward, not just in your bag, but into your life?

It is always meaningful to hear why they choose what they choose.

Often, the object is small. The shift behind it is not.

Choosing How We Spend Our Days

We all choose, every day, how we spend our time.

Slow markets.
Shared afternoons.
A record.
A book.
A jar waiting to be filled.

I have become ever more mindful of how I spend mine.

And if you ever feel called to wander these riverbanks, listen to what is asking to be noticed, or experience the rhythm of this valley more deeply, you are welcome to join me.

Sometimes a market is just a market.

Sometimes it is the beginning of something quieter, and more meaningful.

You can explore further here.

All the Roads Lead to Yourself

Traveling in Different Ways

We are different travelers at different times and need different trips for different moments in life. I’ve learned to travel in many ways: with family, with friends, and alone. Though I’ve always needed my own time, it took me a while to embrace solo travel. It began with trips to visit friends until it grew on me. I’ve discovered the most about myself while traveling alone.

While we all need a friend by our side, it’s equally important to pause, ask questions, and reflect on our own.

Winds, Sunlight, and Self-Discovery

After experiencing winds that bring tears as well as the sun’s gentle caress, I now find myself in a new place of understanding; knowing better who I am and what I enjoy. And once you’ve arrived, it’s precious to find dear travel companions: old friends in new destinations and new friends showing you their favorite places.

Impressions from Lisbon

Last week I explored Lisbon. As an authenticity lover, I asked my copilot to suggest what I should see when my travel companion, a Lisbon aficionado, asked what I wished to explore.

My happiest moments were spent visiting the world’s oldest bookshop and the candle store Caza das Vellas Loreto (where photos aren’t allowed indoors). The dark wood interiors and glass cabinets filled with tall, imaginative candles are imprinted in my mind.

We also wandered through the front and back streets of Chiado, Alfama, and Belém, tasting flavors and returning to the best viewpoints. We don’t always need photos of views, but rather meaningful mementos and images within. My trip continues now for as long as my beautiful candles burn.

Turning Toward Spring

This week I glow as I turn my gaze toward spring, where a new joyous way of traveling awaits. With a dear friend, I’m happy to open our arms to welcome new travelers to begin their own journeys and join our Orange Trees Are Blooming Already in Valencia mindful travel package (Appelsiinipuut kukkivat jo Valenciassa merkitysmatka) this coming April.

We’ve both traveled our paths, left and returned, each time stronger. Now we embark on a new journey together.

A Journey Home Within

This is an opportunity to connect with supportive, spirited fellow travelers amid the blooming surroundings of Valencia. As we gently explore the Mediterranean valley, we also begin a journey that takes us to a home within.

✨ Read more about Appelsiinipuut kukkivat jo Valenciassa (in Finnish).
Explore your own personally coached journey.

To the Lovestories

Autumn means learning to let go after holding tightly to the lingering morning mists, marvelling at the gorgeous hues, and rising onto your toes as migrating birds glide overhead at the pier.

A New Chapter with The Journey Studio

This year, after finishing my work in Finland, I emptied my drawers, packed my bags, and took off myself. My year of transition reached its final turning point as I embarked on my full-time journey as an entrepreneur at The Journey Studio.

Upon returning to my newfound second home in Valencia, I was privileged to welcome a dear friend, a soulmate from my Lake Saimaa woods, along on a journey that has no end. I returned to a haven I had once discovered on a mountain hike through the surrounding valleys. Together with the gentle owners of Castell de la Solana, we hosted a partner team for an unforgettable, meaningful long weekend.

Stories Around the Long Table

As we gathered around the long table, I sensed it would hold the many stories that would unfold there during our first lunch. The heartfelt tales of finding a place, a purpose, each other, and courage all spoke of love — as did mine. Love for oneself, the courage to step out, move on, listen deeply, and embark on one’s own path. My divorce, fittingly, also became final that very day.

Transformation Through Travel

Travel is a beautiful, powerful tool, a path to wellbeing and connection when pursued with intention. The sense of belonging and embrace we felt among the olive groves during the Luontopolku reflective walk, in that valley where the storm gave way to radiant daylight, reflected transformation itself. In the days that followed, we shared our souls, roamed the nature trails with the wind in our hair and the sea whispering its greetings, turning the moments into a beautiful metamorphosis.

Who Are You, Beyond Your Title?

I often ask a simple question: If not defined by your position, who are you?

The intuitive answer is deeply revealing, one only needs to understand it within. I am a connector, now surrounded by dear friends who also know who they are, and that shared awareness brings assurance and clarity beyond the norms of this world.

Freedom, Connection, and the Home Within

I am humbled to have created the trust that allowed us to come together to experience something beautiful and carry meaning home. Wet with rain and tears, we hugged one another, carrying the knowing that this was only the beginning. There are journeys yet to unfold; journeys that take us beyond trips, to the home within restoring and healing us beyond wellbeing as we know it.

I have been told that I create a sense of freedom simply by being myself. Feeling free has always driven me: moving me from one country to another. Now, I no longer need to move to feel free. With my concept of life: traveling every day, I am free within myself.

As part of this transition after my divorce, I am now officially taking my author’s name, Bruun, as my registered name. My grandparents’ name carries deep meaning for me, a return to my roots and to the family pillars that have supported me throughout my life.

Would you like to embark on your own lovestory?

Drop me a note or read more at Life Chapter Reinvention or Travel Coaching in Finnish at Mukana matkallasi.

Humans Travel For—and With—Humans

Travel is all about wellbeing, and we are different people on different journeys. Whether traveling together or solo, we are always seeking something deeper: space, time, togetherness, distance, or connection. But these are not the words we typically hear when booking a trip. Instead, we see the glimmer of well-known destinations with iconic sights and sunsets flashing at us online.

Yet often, it’s the offbeat trails, the smaller towns, the cobblestone villages that leave a lasting imprint. Cultural immersion, nature connection, and authentic human encounters—these are what turn a trip into something truly transformative.

What Is Calling You?

It’s good to ask ourselves why we want to go somewhere. What is calling us? Sometimes we feel the urge to do something, to be somewhere—but don’t yet know where or why. Maybe there’s a way of traveling we’ve never tried, or a destination we’ve held back from because of what we’ve heard or assumed.

Maybe there’s more we could bring back from our holidays—insight, peace, presence—if we started with intention and allowed ourselves to follow the deeper cause behind our desire to journey. Maybe it’s finally time.

My Journey to Solo Travel

Looking back, I’ve progressed from family trips to traveling alone with my children to meaningful destinations. It took years to realize I didn’t need to wait for someone else’s availability.

Solo travel, for me, began as a way to meet someone—my own quiet escape. But somewhere along the way, I realized I didn’t need a reason or a person to justify going. I could simply travel for myself.

As I began following my own interests—horseback riding, nature trails, slow mornings in unfamiliar places—I found something surprising: serendipitous encounters, spontaneous joy, and a renewed sense of self.

It’s Not the Destination

It’s never just about the destination. It’s the journey—the transportive moments along the way—that remind us who we are. These experiences have the power to reconnect us with our inner compass and support us in becoming fully empowered, content individuals—wherever we happen to be.

Fast-track search engines and AI can get you the ticket, but not the clarity you’re looking for. That comes step by step: through conversation, reflection, presence, and paying attention.

Travel Can Be Your Tool

Helping others find clarity and confidence has become my calling—especially when they don’t yet know the exact direction, only that it’s time.

I hope you find that time for yourself too.

Use travel as your tool. Not just for escaping, but for returning—to your self-esteem, your rhythm, and the connections that nourish you.

🌿 Begin with intention:

Download my intentional travel guide:

Luontopolku – A Nature Trail Back to Your Senses

📞 Feel something calling?

Book a free discovery call to explore how your next step might look.

🧭 Want to travel solo—together?

Join us for a transformative retreat in Alicante, October 9–12.

Limited spots available.

Alma de Verano

How we find our way.

Traveling solo is often easier to begin when you have a destination, a program, or a friend to meet.

At least for me, it was a kind of crazy idea to drive to see my friend now residing in Mijas while traveling through Spain during my sabbatical. It’s a bit of a drive from Oliva, Valencia, where I was staying—trailing the mountains and seaside, basking in Mediterranean November.

Excited to get on the road, I planned my route to reach my dwellings by nightfall, stopping to see places and visit cities along the way. Anxious about the highways at first in my tiny stick-shift Fiat, I gradually settled into road trip mode—lunching, navigating parallel parking in narrow streets, and staying in small hotels.

Walking alone at the beach on the third morning in Nerja, I noticed people smiling at me. Sitting down with a coffee and churros, I realized it was me smiling wide while strolling along—attracting smiles in return.

The Detour That Wasn’t

That afternoon, I navigated my way to Kristi’s panoramic villa.

We had been colleagues-turned-friends for over a decade, and there was the typical laughter, memories, and reflections on where we both were in life. But there was something more.

The two days we spent walking, sharing meals, or simply sitting and gazing at the sunset over the sea became a turning point in the trip for me. Without realizing it, I kept repeating something—which she gently asked back to me. Hugging each other warmly, I continued my journey toward another destination: a hike at Caminito del Rey, reflecting on our conversation in the back of my mind.

My road led me to Alhambra in Granada by accident, and the walk there felt as meant to be as the earlier legs of my journey—each grounding the pebble stones under my feet, helping me carry on. As I grabbed the wheel and drove back to the Montgó mountainside, I felt I needed to continue being here.

By the time I returned to Oliva, I had one day left for sightings yet to be seen.

Coming Full Circle

Now developing my own transformative travel coaching services for travelers and destinations, I come across the same limiting beliefs I also once carried.

I see the dreams, the aspirations, the urge to do something—to live the life we are called to lead. But we often carry a backpack full of unresolved issues that quietly weigh us down.

I now notice others repeating themselves—and I gently ask their words back to them, just as she once did for me last November.

The journey is always traveled a step at a time, without knowing the destination.

There are transportive moments along the way—moments that bring you back to yourself.

Alma de Verano

Next to me now hangs Alma de Verano, a painting I ordered from my mentor Kirsti.

It did its own winding journey, trailing through Estonian and Spanish post offices, before I finally collected it at the Denia post point and had it locally framed.

My gaze turns toward the light shining above the flowers.

Begin Your Journey

Follow your soul’s calling—whether it’s faint or banging loud—and begin taking steps toward your inner self.

Empowering solo journeys grow on you, leading you to bold decisions when the time is right.

And before that? It’s a good idea to travel to a friend and vocalize your aspirations.

Sometimes, it’s not the closest ones you say them to first.

Sometimes, it’s the person you’ll spend the rest of your life with—yourself.

Because you, too, deserve happiness.

✨ Book a free discovery chat to explore how to start your journey.

🌿 Travel to meet me or join the October 9–12 retreat in Alicante to look at your life from another angle.

🌿 Want to reconnect with yourself through nature?
Sign up for my newsletter and receive Your Luontopolku Personal Exercise — a guided reflective path back to your senses.
👉 Subscribe here and begin your intentional journey.

Setting Intention

If you’re not happy, chances are—no one around you is truly happy either.

When I started my sabbatical, I often heard from others: “I’d love to do the same... but I just don’t have the time.” They’d pause, exhale, and whisper maybe one day—but not yet.

Inside, though, something was already stirring. A quiet knowing that something needed to shift. That we were tired, burned out, worn thin. That we weren’t in it anymore.

Still, we’re often so good at postponing ourselves. Throwing our needs into another project, another year, another reason why not now. We choose everything—except ourselves.

For many, there’s even shame in doing something alone. Traveling solo can feel too bold. Or we convince ourselves we can’t afford the time or space to step away. There’s a fear of disappearing from the lives we’ve built—of being forgotten if we’re gone too long.

But in the end, it’s not about the time, the cost, or the distance.

It’s about doing something with intention.

I knew I needed space—so I set the intention to go far. And it gave me clarity.

You don’t need to take a three- or six-month sabbatical. Just steal a little time for yourself. A mini-break in a new environment. A solo day trip. A few retreat days to immerse yourself in something new. Or even during work travel—between the closing speech and the evening dinner—slip into a nearby park, gallery, or modern art exhibition.

When we’re alone, even briefly, our gaze shifts. We no longer relate through others—we come back to ourselves.

✨ See what happens when you give yourself space.

✨ Notice what you start paying attention to.

✨ Take mental snapshots. Jot a note. Sketch what caught your eye.

By giving ourselves time, we start craving more of these immersive, sensory moments—the ones we want to linger in.

Try a solo weekend. If that feels too much, stay an extra day after your business trip and explore slowly, mindfully. If solo isn’t your thing, join a peaceful retreat. Connect with locals and fellow travelers who are also creating space for something different. Traveling solo—together—can still give you your space.

Intentional travel lifts the weight off our chest.

Reflective moments can transport us farther than the road ever could.

And when we start paying attention, we begin to listen—to ourselves. That’s when clarity begins.

From there, the path back to yourself becomes visible. You may find the courage to take your next step—aligned, intentional, and true.

💛 Wouldn’t you like to belong to yourself too?

Happiness lives within us.

It’s waiting to be found.

✨ Curious about your own journey? Where are you being called to go—near or far?

🌿 Take a look at Back to Your Senses and begin setting your intention today.

From Alone to Aligned: How a Lakeside Cabin Taught Me to Listen

Not long ago, the thought of solo travel—or even a weekend cottage trip—made me pause. I was used to being surrounded: by people, work, responsibilities, the constant motion of a busy life. But before I even realized burnout was knocking, I sought space and solitude. Not just physical distance, but emotional space. Space to hear my own thoughts again.

I returned to something deeply familiar: the Finnish lakeside. A simple Blueberry Villa my father built in the 1990s. A silent forest—or so it seemed. I used to hate driving there alone, getting busy with the garden, treating the terraces and pier, or clearing the forest. We’re self-sufficient there: wood-burning oven, fireplace, and a lakeside sauna tucked into our own woods.

At first, I brought all my thoughts with me—the mental noise, the pressure to produce, the urge to fill the silence. But over time, the quiet worked its way in. While exhausting myself outdoors, I noticed the gentle fall of a pinecone, the texture of birch bark, the whisper of the lake, the humming of the tall pines on our land, a place we call the Pineman. The forest was not so silent after all.

I began to relax during my weekend getaways, becoming mindful of the path with its exposed roots leading from the villa to the lakeside, listening to the waves while sitting on the pier, simply enjoying the stillness. The traditional sauna ritual—throwing water on the hot stove, listening to the fire crackling beneath it, and dipping into the cold lake between steam baths—was profoundly calming. I swam in icy water, and something in me softened. I didn’t need to speak to belong. Nature welcomed me without needing me to be anything more than I was.

I realized I was alone, but I wasn’t lonely. I was part of nature—something bigger. I was beginning to feel again. I started journaling—not because I had to, but because my hands wanted to remember what my heart was trying to say.

Though the awakening during my sabbatical journey changed me, I realized I had already taken the first steps earlier. Transformation isn’t a single event; it’s a series of quiet, essential shifts. The times spent at our lakeside cottage reawakened my senses and kept me going. They gave me clarity—then and now. They reminded me of something vital: the journey back to ourselves often begins with the simplest acts of presence. Since I managed alone there, I could manage journeying anywhere. Everything beyond that only added to my contentment.

This experience became the foundation for my signature program at The Journey Studio: Back to Your Senses.

It’s a guided path to reconnect with what you may have lost touch with—your body, your emotions, your sense of wonder, and the clarity that comes from being truly present once you start to listen.

The program is built around five natural elements:

• Earth for grounding and physical awareness

• Water for emotional flow and softness

• Fire for courage and personal ignition

• Air for mental clarity and breath

• Space for stillness, intuition, and trust

You can begin with 1:1 coaching from anywhere in the world. Or, you can join me in Finland at a peaceful lakeside villa, embracing the roots of Finnish happiness—or in Spain, where we walk and reflect among mountain paths, citrus groves, and ancient watchtowers. Each experience is curated not just to inspire—but to help you listen.

Because when you start to listen, you start to return to yourself.

If you're navigating a life transition, healing from burnout, or simply feeling called to explore your next chapter more consciously, this program is for you.

Learn more about the Back to Your Senses Life Reconnection Signature Program or schedule a free clarity call at www.thejourneystudio.co

Solo Travel: From Fear to Freedom

After years of traveling with family, I found myself in unfamiliar territory—alone. My children had moved out, and I had separated. Business trips on my own had always been manageable, but the thought of solo leisure travel made me cringe. I remember driving to our family cottage, teeth gritted, struggling to embrace the solitude.

And yet, looking back, I realize I’ve always enjoyed little solo moments—even on trips with others. Whether sneaking off to a museum, climbing a hill to explore a fortress, or wandering through a park, I’ve always found joy in those spontaneous encounters with nature, art, and culture. Still, there was a quiet hesitation about taking a full trip alone. As a woman, it didn’t quite feel natural. There’s a saying that you shouldn’t travel with someone you don’t love—but even when love is there, schedules rarely align.

Maybe I had simply sat with my solitude long enough. Maybe I had grown. Or maybe the title “sabbatical journey” sounded just grand enough to give myself permission. Whatever it was, I felt ready—excited, and terrified.

From the start, there were challenges: language barriers, navigation issues, strange door locks, power outages, and the ever-present need to plan for safety and timing. But I’ll never forget the thrill of that first full day—driving across Spain, meeting my deadlines, and finding my way. When I finally reached the Valencian coast before sunset, I unpacked in a tiny Airbnb and walked down to the beach. The sea whispered softly, the wind gentle against my face. I wept—not out of fear, but from relief, joy, and pride. I had made it. On my own. And it was more than okay. It was beautiful.

Solo travel became a grounding, empowering experience—one that now strengthens how I move through daily life. I learned to ask for help, to adapt, to trust. Gradually, the anxiety faded. I found myself meeting wonderful people, stumbling into unexpected experiences, and noticing things I might never have if someone had been beside me.

That’s the magic of solo travel: your attention shifts inward and outward at once—not toward someone else, but toward yourself and the world around you.

Now, I recommend solo travel to everyone, especially those navigating change. Whether it’s a weekend away or a long sabbatical, go when you're ready, and let the road meet you where you are. We are different travelers on different journeys, each one leading to another. Traveling solo to meet friends or join a retreat is a beautiful way to begin—traveling alone, together.

As a transformative travel coach, this is one of my passions—supporting others through life transitions or reflective chapters to plan and embark on solo journeys. I offer guidance before, during, and after the trip, helping travelers integrate their insights and carry them home.

Because the real journey often begins the moment we return.

Learn how you can begin your journey.

How the journey began

The first step wasn’t Machu Picchu. It was exhaustion.

I had been running on empty. My days were filled with responsibility, achievement, and the subtle weight of being everything to everyone—except myself. I knew something had to shift. My body knew it before I did. My spirit had started to whisper what my mind tried to ignore: You’re burned out. You’re disconnected. You need more.

People take breaks for all kinds of reasons and spend them in countless ways. For me, it was clear from the start—during my sabbatical, I would travel. But not just anywhere. And not to escape. I would travel to reconnect, to recover, and, if possible, to rediscover who I was beyond my roles, routines, and responsibilities.

The Route

I’d been planning the journey for a year—maybe longer, if I’m honest with myself. The decision to apply for a sabbatical came from a deep inner nudge that kept growing louder. I needed self-love and self-care. I needed soul searching. I needed to feel alive again, to build back the courage I feared I had lost.

I mapped my route with intention: Peru, where I would climb Machu Picchu—something I had dreamed of for years. But before that, a meaningful stopover: Iceland, a place that called to my curiosity and solitude. It would be a journey between two sacred landscapes. I’d travel alone—but not to isolate. I still longed to meet people, to see the world through fresh eyes. I just needed to begin on my own.

What I Carried

Before I fully understood what I was doing—or what it would do to me—I began stripping things away.

• My car: a symbol of status and control.

• My jewelry, clothes, and career wardrobe: curated identities I no longer wanted to perform.

• My environment: even my organization changed during my leave, as if life was quietly aligning with my internal shifts.

Transformation isn’t always a thunderclap. It’s often subtle, layered, and slow. There wasn’t one moment of change, but many. Moments of truth, of pause, of awakening. Some came before the trip, others mid-flight, and many more are still unfolding.

What I Sought

I didn’t just want a vacation—I needed to feel something new, to step away from the familiar, to find zest for life again. I longed to be inspired, to discover who I was without the structure of my career, my relationships, or the labels I had worn for so long.

I was curious. I was afraid.
But I was ready to move.

Transformation, for me, meant creating space to ask:
What makes me feel alive?
What do I need to feel like myself again?
What would happen if I followed that?

This journey wasn’t just about geography. It was personal. And though I didn’t yet know it, I was beginning something that would change how I live, love, work—and travel—forever.

Learn how you can begin your journey as well.