Not a super flexy slender Yoga chick talks "The Power of Travel"

How did your travel adventures start?Did it start because you heard someone rave about a tropical island? Or because you saw a documentary that made your sofa feel suddenly inadequate and boring? Or did you simply wake up one day and think, “I am done with the gray weather, I am going to Sunnyland”? Whatever the reason, travel begins long before the suitcase is packed. It shows up as a pull in the chest, a quiet whisper from the body saying, “Let’s go somewhere… anywhere.” Travel is often an external journey, but Yoga teaches us to listen more closely, and sometimes what we call wanderlust is really the soul stretching its arms and saying, “I want to grow.”

Whenever we embark on an adventure, whether it is halfway across the globe or at your best friend’s TV-popcorn-pajama party, we temporarily loosen our grip on the familiar and sometimes even welcome discomfort. Your alarm rings at a new time, your meal is delayed, your morning movement happens somewhere else entirely. The middle seat on the plane, the overnight train, the dusty bus all become tiny rituals of shedding and releasing. The people we see every day, the routes we take without thinking, the shows we binge without fail… they all fade for a moment.

When we land in a new place, boundaries become more visible (or the lack thereof). Without the autopilot of habit, we might say no more clearly, speak up, ask questions, or simply observe. We tune into the body when it whispers, “This does not feel right,” or when it sighs, “Finally… safe.” Travel demands presence. We walk differently when the streets are unfamiliar. We taste food more slowly when the flavor is brand new. It is in these small-in-between moments that we return to ourselves without even trying.

Growth is not a gradual thing… well, okay, yes, the years pass and our hair changes color and gravity has its say, but I am talking about inner growth 😉 In a Yoga posture, growth happens at that exact second when you want to back out, in that blissfully painful or painfully blissful place between effort and surrender. Travel works the same way. It stretches us, showing us sides of ourselves that home never asks to see.

Have you met “the controller,” “the planner,” “the curious,” “the protector,” or “the open-hearted” self when you travel? They all live inside you, waiting for their boarding pass. Some will test your patience, others will remind you how to marvel again. And those moments are worth every grain of sand stuck between your toes inside your socks, every strange-tasting dish (the one you pretended to like), every sunburn because you “forgot” sunscreen, or every burnt mouth because you refused to wait for the pizza to cool. Patience, after all, is an advanced practice, and clearly, we are still working on it.

At the end of the trip, something is different. Coming home is never exactly the same. You unpack more than clothes. Travel does not fix us, but it leaves a subtle shift, a little more space inside. The soul feels a different kind of freedom, even if it is temporary before routine creeps back in. In the end, you decide how much of that routine you want to let back.

So, what is your favorite thing about traveling? And no, you are not allowed to say “not having to work”… 😏❤️