There are times that everything seems to flow naturally. You’re feeling good, life’s cool, you’re not fussing about something in particular. Your days appear normal rather uneventful but fulfilling, as you seem to have found a routine that suits you. And then, all of a sudden, one thing changes and the entire structure loses its stability all together.


This happened to me last week. The project I’m currently working on is coming to an end and the subsequent proposal that was made, which I initially thought I loved, might not be the thing I want to do after all. In the span of two days, I felt like my recently build pink air castle suddenly turned into a raging storm. I’d been swept of my feet, my consciousness was clouded, I panicked and couldn’t stick to my routine anymore. My head yelled: “You might be without a job in two months! What are you going to do now?”

“I just don’t know!”

After the initial loss of mental clarity (read: cycling through town for no reason and eating lots of crap), I forced myself to have a better look at the situation. Is it really that bad? In what ways could I regard this as an opportunity? Could this be a new adventure? When walking the Camino, the yellow arrows point you in the right direction. On the GR, it’s the red and white, the stones and the shells that guide you. I reckon we can find these waymarks in life too, although they might require a little more effort to find.

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Besides looking for directions, clues or other stuff that can ignite you fire to continue wandering with a fierce pace. Give yourself some time. It’s OK to just don’t know for a day or two, eat nachos and ice cream, forget about your work-out and let your house turn into a pig shed. Just make sure you get your ass of the couch the day after, clean up and start mapping out a new route… even if you’re not sure.

Sudden changes like this force you to think about which direction you want to head in. Pick a new path or, perhaps, continue walking with a new mindset. There are always certain things that can give you direction. Eventually, it might not be the greatest or the most beautiful route, and you might not even be heading into the right direction, but you’ll figure that out soon enough, when shit hits the fan and all falls apart again. The next time, however, you might not need an I just don’t know-day before you’re ready to jump into a new adventure.




The past weeks, I’ve felt a little unsettled about when a wayfarer. I can – and most likely will – write about the things you should definitely pack before you embark on your Camino, the things I wish I’d known before I ventured off for three months, the places where I spent the night and that which my pilgrimage gave me, apart from a whole lot of callus. Yet, the thought of the Camino being the only topic I could write about makes me shiver, as it wouldn’t be covering my entire journey.

The pilgrimage that ended in Fisterra was part of a larger journey that, up until today, continues. Life would probably be an accurate, all-encompassing description of that larger pilgrimage that I am hinting at ; ) Writing about my experiences as a pilgrim was not the sole aim of starting this blog: I wanted to create a fixed place to return to whilst trying to find my own way in the world.

Since returning back home in March, I noticed the entire endeavour just made me realise there are a ton of things yet to be discovered, massive amounts of adventures to be experience and dreams to be realised. It unleashed a quest to seek, experiment with and discover ways to make wayfaring through life a tad more adventurous, inspiring and meaningful.

Thus, as with the changing of the seasons, when a wayfarer changes along. From now on, apart from Camino-related posts, you’ll also find regular reports in regards to my quest. On top of that, I have changed the look of the site a little bit… hope you like it!

In other words, if you’re interested in the daily discoveries and doings of a wacky wayfarer whom’s seeking more than she finds… stay tuned!

Happy Equinox!




And then you are back home. Like a character taken from one novel and placed into another narrative. One you recognise, though uncertain about the details. I remember opening my door, stepping inside my house and being overwhelmed by a feeling of completion: the circle was complete, I returned where I started. The actual journey had come to an end; however, the unease and discomfort that followed marked a new beginning. I knew immediately it was not going to be easy to return to that which I had departed from.

First came the excitement. Finally! No plastic mattresses and no throw away covers that attach themselves to you body during the night. My toilet! I almost hugged my toilet. (I restrained myself though as I realised that would have been a rather strange thing to do.) But the joy I experienced knowing I no longer had to take a dump on a different toilet every day, was out of this world. Taking hot showers, buying food and keeping it in the fridge, washing my clothes longer than the 30 minute quick cycle, rolling out my yoga mat and do yoga whenever I want, wearing ACTUAL clothes, meeting up with all my friends… the list of things that made me super excited about being back home goes on and on.

Unfortunately, the initial excitement didn’t last very long. After a few days, I started to intensely miss being on the road. Getting up early, being on the way, being outside and physically active all day, the rhythm, and, most importantly, the feeling of quiet/peace/space it gave me. Everything had been moving all this time and now it had all stopped. The feeling of standing still made me anxious and irritated. For 3,5 months I was heading somewhere, I had a destination and the movement towards that – in this case – physical location allowed me to open up and work with myself. Returning home, the movement that became so important to me remained absent due to the lack of direction.

So today I asked myself: Where do you want to go? I guess this question calls for for a mini-pilgrimage. It’s time to figure out which direction will be next.



When I decided to walk the Camino de Santiago and blog about it, I also wanted to include more personal posts. Up until today I did not really write anything personal, let alone mention my motivations for undertaking this journey. Why not? I guess the answer is simple: I find it difficult and, perhaps, a little frightening to share something that’s so close to me.

The past week, being the last week of the year, I took some time to reflect on all that has happened in 2017. It has been a mix of unusual experiences, big decisions, surprises, frustrations, intense anger, uncontrollable laughter, massive mistakes, little smiles, sorrow, unforgettable moments, personal achievements, confusion and clarity. The year that has come to a conclusion, was marked by the endings of several paths I have travelled in the past. The end of my academic career by obtaining my Master’s degree, the mending of a shattered heart and the long-awaited arrival of my mind here in the Netherlands after my body had already returned from Australia in 2016… to name but a few of those preceding pathways.

However, endings create and encourage space for something entirely new to happen. So 2017 was also full of tiny beginnings, new insights and ideas that still have to grow. You could compare it to the first steps on a trail that, at first glance, looks very promising. Although uncertain where it will lead me, with this somewhat more personal post and in the new year that is waiting to commence, I will continue walking.

Happy New Year!