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.
