For those who have been reading my blogs lately, you may have noticed that I’ve been going through a bit of a rough patch. This life we’ve chosen asks a lot from us. It’s not a holiday, even though it might sometimes look that way. And now that I’m a few weeks further into this process of rebuilding, I’d like to share what’s been happening and how it’s affecting me.

This isn’t meant as a complaint, that’s not my style. I simply find it fascinating to explore how I function, how my environment responds, and what actually works for me and us as a family. Maybe you’ll find it interesting too.

Those who know me well know that my standards are often high, too high, really. Even now, when priorities should shift, I keep pushing myself to do what needs to be done, to meet expectations. Rest becomes something that happens only when there’s time for it. As if it has to be earned, as if I need to work hard before I’m allowed to enjoy it.

That, I think, is my biggest lesson lately. This journey should allow me to rest. And when rest is scarce, I must create it. Ask for it. Make space for it.

Over the past year, I’ve been far too focused on what’s best for others: my family, caring for Philou, my relationship with Edwin, the boat, work, school… There was always something I thought mattered more than my own well-being. And now, writing this, it feels so obvious. You know what they say on airplanes? “Put your own oxygen mask on first, before helping others.” I had completely forgotten that.

Since I’ve started doing that again, I notice how much better I can actually care for others. There’s more clarity and calm. It’s a lesson I keep having to relearn and I’m sure I’m not the only one.

A dear friend and guide gave me the loving push I needed, reminding me how to truly take care of myself. So now, I’m introducing small, practical habits into my days. Nothing big or dramatic, just little steps that feel achievable and sustainable.

Here’s what I’ve changed so far:

1. Mornings with intention – I used to open my laptop the moment I woke up, trying to squeeze work into those precious and quiet morning hours. Now, I start with breathing exercises, a simple yoga pose, and simply looking around me, noticing how beautiful it all is. I listen to soft music, drink my celery juice (after hunting down celery…), lemon water, ginger tea, and take my vitamins. It takes maybe 20–30 minutes. Self-care can be efficient too.
2. Moving my body – I’m not a big athlete, but I make sure to move every day. A walk, ideally alone with my thoughts, though I also love doing it together. Life on a boat makes movement tricky sometimes, especially while sailing, but turning it into a personal ritual, with music and quiet, and a nice coffee at the end, helps me stay motivated.
3. Journaling – Since we left, l learned that I loved writing, and it has become a real tool for reflection. Sometimes it is not physically writing, but I record my thoughts and later turn them into words. It helps me see patterns, how I feel, how I grow, what repeats itself. Again, some efficiency there…
4. Eating consciously – No diets, no strict rules, just awareness. Alcohol is now for weekends (and should probably go altogether). Lots of fruit, vegetables, and water. I start my day with yoghurt and “power fruits.” And reminding myself throughout the day to drink more water…
5. Planning wisely – Working and living on board can be unpredictable and sometimes stressful. So we’re learning to plan better as a family, balancing work, school, the boat, travel, and life itself. Ten to fifteen hours of work may sound little, but combined with everything else, it’s quite full.

It’s a start. I’m not “there” yet, wherever that may be. I’m practising, trying, learning. Last week we faced the flu, this week it’s the rain. Plenty of chances to practice patience and trust.

As one of my sisters always says: trust the process. And I feel that now more than ever.

Because when space opens up, so do the emotions that were quietly waiting. Old patterns resurface. I still find myself worrying about what others think, how they see what we’re doing, how I can stay connected while being physically far away. And there’s the financial pressure, how can I let go of that a bit? Maybe it’s not the money itself, but my thoughts around it that block creativity or the path we are supposed to take.

And then there’s that oldest, deepest voice whispering: am I good enough? Probably the root of so many things I bump into. So yes, the next step is clearing out. Gently, honestly, intentionally. It’s not easy, but it brings peace.

So for now, I hold on to this mantra:
Trust the process.

Written by: Mirjam