About The Studio Journal
The Transformation You Can Expect from Life Reconnection Signature Program — Back to Your Senses
✔ Reconnect with your true self
✔ Gain clarity on what to focus on
✔ Feel empowered to make bold decisions
✔ Take aligned action toward meaningful change
The Studio Journal was born during a sabbatical that became something much deeper—a turning point. What began as a pause from routine turned into a journey of unlearning, rediscovery, and reconnection. I wandered, I listened, I wrote. I stepped into unfamiliar places—both on the map and within myself.
This journal is a space to share what I’ve gathered along the way. It holds reflections from the road, questions from the quiet moments, and the stories that shape how we travel, live, and grow. You’ll find pieces of my journey here, but also prompts, insights, and encouragement for your own.
Because transformation doesn’t happen all at once. It happens in the in-between. And this is a place for that.
Alma de Verano
Welcome to my sunny corner in Spain 🌞
A cozy white sofa, golden light streaming in, and Alma de Verano blooming on the wall—this is where slow mornings begin. The doors are open, coffee is hot, and there's a seat waiting for you at the table.
Come join me for a cup and a soul-nourishing conversation.
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.
When You Know, You Know
La Siesta nestled beneath Montgó’s watchful presence
Framed by swaying palms and bursts of bougainvillea, La Siesta rests quietly at the edge of Dénia’s green belt. Behind it, Montgó rises like a guardian—its rocky slopes and pine forests casting both shelter and inspiration. This is where Mediterranean stillness meets the rhythm of intentional living.
How I found my place—and how you can too.
I knew immediately I was home when I visited La Siesta, nestled along the green belt of Dénia. I had come to Spain with a quiet purpose: to find something of my own, something that would root me to this land and bring alive the feeling that had been quietly building inside me. Fear or winter Finland in the back of mind with my worsening Raynard syndrome.
I visited several places with intention. And then, on the last viewing of my last day in Spain—early December 2024—I stepped out of the car and felt it. Montgó’s mighty presence, the Elephant as they call it, stretched out over Dénia like a protective shield. Behind the blooming palms and bougainvilleas of the community garden, I saw the eco-park and its winding pine trails. From the rooftop terrace of the third floor, I could spot the Dénia Castle, wrapped in ancient fortress walls. The old town, the bustling marina, the ferries to Ibiza and Mallorca—all within walking distance. Yet the peace of this place held me.
From there, things moved quickly. One serendipitous moment led to another. Determined to begin this new chapter, I made it happen—I spent New Year’s at my new second home, surrounded by family. With the help of incredible professionals, what began as a bold step became the beginning of something bigger.
Since then, my bond to Dénia has only grown. My interior decorator and real estate agent have become close friends, hairdresser a riding companion, volleyball teammates collaborators. Together with the La Siesta community, we’ve started crafting transformative experiences that reflect the essence of this place.
Because Dénia is unlike anywhere else. Its layered history of Roman and Moorish influence still echoes in its architecture and soul. Since the beginning of tourism in the 1950s, new cultural layers are still forming as incomers arrive—the fortifications and towers now welcoming them in. The gastronomy here is award-winning—think red gambas, black rice, and Valencian paella savored on lively tapas streets. The city pulses with festivals, music, and joy. Cyclists cruise the trails, horses graze near mountain ridges, and the warm locals remind you to laugh at yourself.
They speak Valencian here (which sounds to me like Spanish with a French twist), but they answer you in Spanish—and expect a smile or a joke in return.
I immersed myself from the start. I bicycled the beach side, hiked mountain paths to hidden caves, tasted smoked calamari and local wine, and danced (very poorly!) at a Latin class where the instructor kept repeating “Con mando, mía!” I took part in festivals like the Three Kings and Fallas, visited maritime and archaeological museums, and walked the tunnel beneath fortress breathing it all in.
And perhaps most importantly—I met people. Remarkable people. What happens when you journey alone. Many of them finding their way back to themselves, just like me.
I’ve arrived. And now, I hope to inspire others to give themselves time—to pause, listen inward, and take one small step at a time toward their inner child.
In reconnecting with my own nature, I’ve created something to share: a weekly program of transformative experiences for La Siesta residents and holiday guests of Dénia. These offerings invite you to rediscover presence, joy, and the simple magic of moving through life with curiosity and intention while savoring the essence of the Costa Blanca’s natural beauty and deep cultural roots. From onsite Pilates and fun cooking and Latin dance classes to nature adventures, gastronomy afternoons, and visits to Dénia Castle and the vibrant Friday market, each experience is crafted to invite joy, presence, and reflection.
✨ Book Dénia Experiences here
✨ Want to discover Dénia with me through a curated 1:1 travel coaching journey or join the October retreat in Alicante? Drop me a message—I’d love to walk that path with you.
Nature Trailing
The Luontopolku Transformative Retreat takes place at Castell de la Solana, a serene boutique hotel nestled in the sun-drenched Alcalalí valley in Alicante.
Surrounded by olive trees, mountain views, and walking trails, it’s the perfect setting to reconnect—with nature, and with yourself.
A Journey Back to Your Senses
My childhood summers always began the same way—by kicking off my shoes in June.
I spent those days wandering Finnish forests, following winding trails, collecting natural treasures, and diving into cold lakes. Many of us recognize the exact same things.
I’ve always loved the promise of a nature trail: it might lead to a blooming meadow, a blueberry-covered hill, or a quiet peninsula. At my Finnish lakeside villa, I cherish the short walk down the nature path to the shore.
The trail, woven with pinecones, roots, and soft moss, holds immense transportive power.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve followed trails—always toward water.
Walking helps us process what words cannot.
During my sabbatical, I found myself on many more nature trails—from the physically demanding climb to Machu Picchu to gentle, reflective walks through paths I once knew in my youth in Spain. I joined a group at Caminito del Rey and revisited familiar Alhambra paths, processing life as I walked.
I remembered how walking had always helped me think—sometimes running, sometimes foraging for mushrooms. Mostly alone.
In movement, the answers often reveal themselves.
The trail that changed everything
While walking and driving across Spain, reconnecting with myself, I realized how much clarity I gained simply by moving. I stumbled upon a real estate agency in a historic old town—because they had a hillside home for sale that caught my eye. It wasn’t the one, but the agent kept talking about the nearby hiking trails.
Eventually, I visited the green belt of Dénia, at the foot of Montgó mountain.
And I stopped.
There, right in front of me, were trails leading into and around the mountain.
Since then, my journey has continued—up the Montgó, across surrounding valleys, and deeper into the beauty of presence.
A new path opened at Castell de la Solana
One trail in Alcalalí led me to Castell de la Solana, a boutique hotel run by a Finnish couple. The moment I stepped onto the property, I heard running water. The olive grove, the mountain backdrop, the peaceful paths—it all transported me.
In another twist along this virtual trail, I discovered the Travel Coach Network, a global community of professionals helping others use travel for wellbeing.
As travel becomes increasingly tech-driven, so grows the desire for meaning—destinations and connections that truly nourish us.
Luontopolku
A Life Reconnection Program by The Journey Studio
I believe in the power of following nature trails.
My journey has taken many unexpected turns, and now as a transformative travel coach, I want to empower others to take their own first curious steps.
When we walk with awareness, clarity follows—and soon after, the courage to move forward.
What is Luontopolku?
Luontopolku means nature trail in Finnish.
It’s also the name of my signature program at The Journey Studio—a moving, grounded journey that gently leads us back to ourselves.
And it doesn’t need to happen in Finland.
Your trail is already there, wherever you are.
It’s simply waiting.
The program is for anyone ready to:
• Reclaim presence
• Navigate change
• Seek clarity
• Feel fully alive again
Whether it begins on a trail near home or at a retreat far away, I’ll walk beside you.
What you’ll walk away with:
• A deeper awareness of how your senses guide you
• Daily practices to root, soften, and grow
• A clearer connection to your direction and voice
Join us this October 9–12
I’m returning to Castell de la Solana to host our first Transformative Luontopolku Retreat in Alcalalí, Spain.
Together we’ll explore trails and villages filled with stories of reinvention, meet local entrepreneurs who have reshaped their lives, enjoy warm cultural experiences, and find peace in a deeply restorative setting.
The retreat blends nature, movement, stillness, and story—creating space to realign with what truly matters.
The nature trail is never a fixed route.
It begins the moment we take the first step.
If you’re curious about the retreat—or simply ready to begin your own intentional path—I’d love to tell you more.
Luontopolku Retreat Info -)
📩 Let’s connect: Contact The Journey Studio
Setting Intention
Intentional travel begins before the journey itself. In this post, I explore how setting a clear intention can shape not only where we go, but how we experience it—and ultimately, what we carry home within us.
Transformative Travel Coach Mirka is seen stepping off the road by the Golden Gate Bridge. Finding the courage to drive on U.S. highways was an empowering experience.
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
Spending time alone in a Finnish lakeside cabin, I didn’t find silence—I found alignment. This post reflects on how stillness, space, and nature revealed what burnout had hidden, and how solitude can guide us gently back to ourselves.
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
Dare to Go Alone: The Transformative Power of Solo Travel
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
How a Sabbatical Transformed My Life. Every journey has a beginning. In this post, I share the moment I chose to pause, leave the familiar behind, and listen to the quiet call for change—how The Journey Studio was born from a longing to live, travel, and work more intentionally.
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.