Everything is moving.

And somehow, at the very same time, everything feels still.

That is probably the best way to describe where I am right now. There is so much bubbling beneath the surface. So many thoughts, ideas, questions and possibilities running through my head that sometimes my body simply cannot keep up.

My body is asking for rest.

My mind is asking for more.

More answers. More movement. More clarity. More action.

And right now, those two are not particularly good at listening to each other.

Letting go without knowing what comes next

Of course, one of the biggest things happening in our lives at the moment is our house. The sale process has properly started and the amount of interest has been quite overwhelming. In a good way. Soon, we will know more.

But selling a house is about so much more than selling bricks and mortar.

It means letting go of a home. Of a chapter. Of the place that has been our safe base for ten years. And inevitably, it brings up the next question.

What now?

It is a question that comes up almost daily in our conversations and probably even more often in my head.

At the same time, we are quite literally moving.

Together with a buddy boat, which is incredibly lovely, wonderfully social and, admittedly, also quite busy, we are making our way east again through Greece. Eventually heading south towards Crete.

Crete feels like another milestone for us.

A new part of the journey, but perhaps also a place where some of the questions we have been carrying with us might slowly start finding answers.

September switched the pressure back on

And then there is September.

The new school year. The new working year. Routines that need to find their place again.

I consciously took two months off this summer. Two months without work. I needed that space. There was already so much happening in our lives that I wanted to allow myself the freedom not to add work to the mix.

But now September has arrived and I can feel someone has switched the pressure back on.

And if I am completely truthful, a large part of that pressure comes from me.

Because money needs to be earned again.

I have always strongly believed that work will find its way to me. And, so far, that belief has served me well. I still believe it now.

I have never really believed in having to sell myself. I trust that the people in my network know who I am, what I can do and what I can bring to the table.

But at the moment, no new question has appeared.

And despite all that trust, that makes me restless.

When the mind starts searching

So my mind starts doing what it does best.

Searching.

What should I do? Where should I look? What is my next step? Should I create something new? Develop myself in another direction? Reach out? Wait? Push? Trust?

How do I get myself moving again?

And there is the contradiction.

Because somewhere underneath all those questions, I feel something completely different.

Stay close to yourself.

Slow down.

Find your inner calm.

Trust.

Which is all very beautiful in theory, until your brain responds with: yes, lovely, but perhaps we could trust while also making a plan, starting three new projects and figuring out the next five years?

That seems to be the conversation happening inside me lately.

Redesigning a life is work too

Luckily, Edwin and I talk about it a lot. And slowly we are beginning to realise just how much we are actually doing.

We are redesigning our life.

That may not look like work in the traditional sense, but it takes an enormous amount of energy.

There are things to investigate, decisions to make and practicalities to organise. How do we want to live? Where do we want to create a base? How will we organise school? What needs to be arranged in the Netherlands before we can properly leave things behind? What do we want work to look like? What kind of life are we actually building?

These are not questions you answer over a cup of coffee on a Tuesday morning.

They need space.

And perhaps that is exactly what I find difficult at the moment.

Giving them space without immediately demanding answers.

When your body asks you to slow down

Because my body is telling me quite clearly that it needs more rest. Yet my mind seems determined to use every available bit of silence to solve our entire future.

I imagine that part is recognisable to many people.

Maybe your thoughts are driven by worries. Maybe by responsibilities. Maybe by all the things you think you should be doing.

For me, it is mostly the latter.

I should be working. I should be creating. I should know what comes next. I should be making things happen.

Here on the boat, those thoughts sometimes seem louder. Our world is smaller, more intense and very close together. There are fewer places to escape to, which somehow has a way of magnifying both the beautiful things and the difficult ones.

Maybe this is enough direction for now

But underneath all of it, there is something I do know.

We are on the right path.

Literally, that path is currently taking us towards Crete.

Figuratively, I think it is taking us there too.

We are having an amazing time. We are surrounded by people we love. We are making conscious choices and taking careful steps towards a life that fits us better.

I do not know exactly what that life will look like yet.

I do not know where the next work opportunity will come from.

I do not know where we will eventually land.

And apparently, my lesson right now is not to answer all those questions.

Perhaps it is simply to keep moving without constantly needing to know where every step will lead.

To listen when my body asks me to slow down.

To allow my mind to wonder without letting it run the entire show.

And to trust that, just as it has before, the next piece will appear when it needs to.

For now, our bow is pointing towards Crete.

And maybe that is enough direction for today.

Not every next step needs an answer. Sometimes, it just needs trust.