The past few weeks have been good. Really good, actually. But they have also been intense.

Not intense in a bad way. Just full. Full of movement, people, decisions, responsibilities, emotions and thoughts. The kind of full where, at the end of the day, you sometimes wonder what you actually did, while somehow having been busy from the moment you woke up.

We have now arrived at our final stop before crossing to Crete. And I can feel that I am ready for it. Ready to arrive somewhere and slow down a little.

So much good, and still a lot

For almost a month, we have been travelling closely together with our dear friends on Kidani. And there are so many perks to that. Sharing meals, adventures, decisions, worries, children, laughter and everyday life.

But travelling together also means taking each other into account. Where do we go? When do we leave? What does everyone feel like doing today?

It is wonderful. And social. And sometimes tiring.

At the same time, quite a lot has been happening back in the Netherlands. Our house has been sold, which still feels slightly surreal to write. There are worries about people we love and their health. And being far away at moments like that sometimes makes the distance feel much bigger than the actual miles between us.

Meanwhile, work has not exactly taken off for me yet.

I struggle with that sometimes. I have always liked working and contributing, and there is a part of me that feels I should be doing more. Building something. Earning money. Figuring out what comes next.

But when I look at my days, there is another reality too.

My time is already incredibly scarce.

Maybe this is simply my sabbatical after all.

After two years of continuing to work while living aboard, perhaps I am finally taking one without ever officially deciding to.

School is back

School has started again too, and that adds an entirely different rhythm to life aboard.

I think I spend at least fifteen hours a week on school at the moment. And most days, I genuinely enjoy it. There is something incredibly special about discovering things together and watching Philou learn.

Some days it flows.

Other days it is a battle.

But even then, I realise how lucky I am to have this time with her and to be so closely involved in what she is learning.

It just takes time. A lot of it.

Building our next life

And perhaps the biggest thing happening in the background is that we are reshaping our lives.

For a long time, the boat was the big change. Leaving the Netherlands, stepping away from our old routines and choosing a completely different way of living.

Now the boat increasingly feels like the bridge between what was and what comes next.

We know we want to add a little more stability again. A home base somewhere. A place that fits the life we have discovered we want to live.

That thought excites me enormously.

It also comes with approximately 48,000 questions.

Where will we live? How will we organise things? What does it mean administratively? Where will Philou go to school? What do we take with us? What do we store? Where will the boat fit into our lives?

And, not entirely unimportant, where are we actually spending this winter?

We don’t quite know yet.

What we do know is that we have to hand over our house in December, which means we will spend a longer period in the Netherlands that month. There will be plenty to organise, pack, sort and store.

Another chapter properly coming to an end.

Before then

And as if all of that wasn’t quite enough, I have unexpectedly decided to fly back to the Netherlands for a few days soon.

I am really grateful that I can go and that we have the freedom to make decisions like this. But it does add a little pressure to our journey towards Crete.

Before our visitors arrive, we also want to get the boat back into its best shape.

Because there is so much to look forward to.

Time with my best friend Janneke and Teuntje her daughter. And then an entire week with my mum on board. If I am counting correctly, it will be her fifth time staying with us on the boat.

Five times.

I don’t think I would ever have dared to dream that when we started this adventure.

And somewhere between all the things we are saying goodbye to and all the familiar faces we are about to see again, there is so much happiness.

Maybe this is enough

So yes, part of me still wants to work more.

Part of me thinks I should be using this time to figure out my next professional step.

But when I put everything down on paper, I can also see it.

Maybe it is simply a bit much right now.

Maybe even until the end of the year.

Of course, that has consequences too. Life does not suddenly become free just because you decide to call it a sabbatical. But perhaps I don’t have to solve everything at once.

Today, we are going for a walk. Just the three of us.

A little family day. Fresh air, movement and hopefully a few hours in which my head can stop running through its endless list of questions.

Because underneath all that intensity, there is something that feels remarkably calm.

We are steady.

We are strong together.

We may not know exactly where we will spend the winter, where we will eventually live or what work will look like next year.

But home has become something much simpler than it used to be.

Home is where we are together.