Things are bubbling up. Writing brings me relaxation and inspiration. Often, it is on the page that things fall into place and creative ideas begin to surface. It feels as if writing helps me listen more closely to myself.

In the second half of last year, I started to sense that my path was changing. Life at a little more distance began to feel right and I realised that my current way of working would not be sustainable in the long run. Alongside that insight came a clear need for more rest. Not no work, but more conscious work. Work that truly aligns with what I need at this stage of my life.

This period gives me space to reflect. On who I was before our departure, but even more on who I want to become during and after this adventure. What kind of adventure wants to emerge next? How can I stay as close to myself as possible? And who is that, really?

In a world that feels increasingly turned upside down, this feeling has only grown stronger. I notice a deep desire to keep life small and close, focused on the people around me. To care where we can and contribute in ways that feel tangible and human, without being swept away by the larger narrative, the one we have little influence over. Sometimes it feels as if, through the choices we make, we are living in a different dimension. That might look like stepping away from reality, but it is anything but that. We are consciously creating a life in which awareness is central, including awareness of the great unrest in the world. Location feels secondary to that intention.

At the same time, I feel as if I am shedding a layer. Still in the cocoon, yet slowly growing towards a new form. It is a process, a development, a quiet growth. It feels good, but it is not concrete yet. And that makes it exciting and frightening all at once.

I have stood at these kinds of crossroads before. Each time, I chose to respond from trust. The creation of this journey is one of those moments. At the beginning, we did not know how it would unfold, or even exactly what it would become. It revealed itself along the way, because we allowed ourselves to dream from trust. The same was true when I met Edwin and when Philou came into our lives. None of these paths were obvious, but I walked them guided by trust, and I have been deeply rewarded for it.

Living from trust, rather than fear, has therefore become a condition for me. Trusting my intuition and believing in my inner compass. When my gut says no, it is not meant to be, and we choose another path. I share this feeling strongly with Edwin. We seem aligned, moving together on the same wavelength.

Right now, that means allowing more rest. Embracing this winter hibernation phase, writing more and creating slowly. Listening to the advisers around me and, above all, being more loyal to myself. That last part is a daily practice. As a mother, partner and sailor, my instinct is often to prioritise the needs of others. I am learning to do this differently.

I am learning to stand firmly in who I am first and from there step into my roles. This process comes with falling and getting back up. With moving straight ahead and sometimes taking detours. With laughter but in small moments also tears. With deep trust and many questions at the same time. Where it will lead us is not yet fully clear. But that it will be good, I feel certain of.

And in the meantime, I will keep writing, creating and developing, and I will keep you updated on all the adventures that await us.

Written by: Mirjam