Finding My Feet (Again); What Travel Taught Me About Being in My Body
Somewhere between the call to prayer echoing through Istanbul, watching hundreds of hot air balloons rise from the Cappadocia Valley floor, and navigating the windy rugged roads of the Turquoise Coast, I am reminded that travel isn't always magical in the moment. It's raw and real. Messy, confusing, overstimulating, and humbling - which is exactly why it's worth it.
On my trip through Turkiye I had countless moments of awe; swimming in turquoise coves, wandering through ancient ruins, and eating food so good it made me emotional. I was full of gratitude and wonder at a place so different from what I know and where I come from.
I also had moments where I felt totally out of my depth. I was afraid of wearing or saying the wrong thing; of sticking out or accidentally offending someone. I was afraid to be different, afraid to be new to this culture, so much that I wasn't allowing myself the opportunity to explore within it and feel safe.
When we travel to places we've never been, we meet parts of ourselves we've never met. We get the opportunity to learn from what our system is begging us to hear, with fresh eyes and a completely flipped perspective.
And that's the real reason I travel. Because being new somewhere wakes up parts of me I forget exist at home. It stretches me. It makes me open and curious. It calls on me to foster grace and patience.
When judgement or fear wriggled into my psyche, I had to practice the same things I encourage my clients to do on the massage table; to breathe, soften, and come back into my body. Commune with myself, get curious, stay here.
Embodiment isn't about being calm all the time - it's about being with yourself, even when things feel chaotic, unknown, or new.
It's easy to mistake discomfort for danger, our nervous systems are wired to protect us, after all. But not every flutter of unease means we're unsafe. Sometimes it just means we're facing an opportunity to expand.
And isn't that what so much of life is - learning to meet ourselves with grace when we're new to something or going up against the great unknowns of life?
You don't have to be halfway across the world to practice that. You can meet discomfort with curiosity in the middle of your work day, in a tough conversation, or when things just don't go as planned. The invitation is the same: come back home to your body. Come back to presence.
Presence is a choice. It rarely feels easy, but when I stop resisting the moment, I can feel its beauty again.
Home isn't a place, it is something we practice.
A quiet steady returning.
A soft holding into ourselves, wherever we are.