Sometimes it takes a change of scenery to truly see yourself again.

Our trip to Japan was supposed to be about family time, exploring, and making memories – and it definitely was. But what I didn’t expect was how much it would open my eyes again. Over the years, I’ve had little moments here and there where I started to figure things out – trying to focus on health, show up for family, and just keep things going. But if I’m being honest, it’s still been a real challenge. Somewhere between raising kids, managing health ups and downs, and handling the day to day noises, I just started living on autopilot.

I’m definitely a morning person, cherishing those quiet moments of “me time” before the day begins. One morning on our cruise, despite feeling tired, stressed, and restless, I found myself wide awake well before sunrise. So, I quietly slipped out of the cabin, put on my headphones, and made my way to the deck. The ship was still, the sea calm, and the air cool with just a hint of warmth beginning to rise. As my music played softly, I watched the sky shift from deep blue to golden orange. The warm sun peeked over the horizon, casting a gentle glow across the water, accompanied by a soft sea breeze. It was peaceful. I felt something I hadn’t in a long time – stillness.

That morning reminded me how much I love these quiet moments – like the ones I try to carve out at home, sitting on the deck with a warm mug and a good book or music. But on the ship, it was something else entirely. The sea stretched out endlessly – calm, steady, and somehow comforting. As the sun slowly rose, its warm rays felt like they were gently waking up the world… and me, too. From that morning on, I woke early every day, drawn back to that same quiet moment. It became my little ritual. Just me, the sky, the sea, and the sun. In that quiet, I found the stillness I didn’t even realize I was craving. It was the kind of quiet that makes you reflect. For the first time in a while, I could hear myself think. (Some mornings my little one would even join me.)

I started noticing how I’d put myself on the back burner. I was always “on” – showing up for everyone else but not for me. Even the stress of my parents’ arguments and their emotional immaturity had started to wear me down. I’d been emotionally checked out, just going through the motions, thinking that was simply what life looked like at this stage.

Over the days – through quiet moments, real conversations, and simply being around the people I love – I started to feel alive again. I remembered all the little things I used to cherish with each of them, and how much I’d missed those simple moments. Along the way, other experiences gently nudged me back to the things I once loved, the little joys that somehow got lost in the shuffle of everyday life.

In the evenings, we caught a few musicals on board. They weren’t quite like the ones back home, but sitting there brought back a familiar feeling. I’d forgotten how much I used to love musicals – how they used to light me up. Over time, I just stopped going. The kids aren’t really into them, and while my husband would come if I really wanted, I always felt like I was dragging him along. So I slowly let it go. But that night in the theatre, even with a smaller stage and simpler set, I felt that old spark again. What made it even sweeter was finding out my niece loves musicals too. We made a little promise to catch a show together when we got back home – and I’m really looking forward to that.

Another unexpected moment that truly stayed with me was an art auction during the cruise. My brother-in-law had been invited, so we tagged along just for fun; I’d never been to one before. I wasn’t expecting much, but as I stood there taking in the paintings, something in me shifted. My heart opened in a way I hadn’t felt in such a long time.

There was one artist in particular whose work completely drew me in: Slava Ilyayev. His paintings were full of beautiful colours, texture, and warmth, often featuring trees and winding pathways. That kind of art has always been my favourite – nature scenes, especially with paths that seem to lead somewhere unknown, offering a little adventure with twists and turns, full of possibilities. Maybe it’s because they remind me of quiet walks or peaceful moments, the kind of little things that help me slow down and breathe. Maybe it’s the dreamer in me, or the part that’s always looking for meaning and direction, even when life feels messy.

His work wasn’t just beautiful; it resonated deeply. Many of his paintings featured two small figures walking down a path, and for some reason, something inside me stirred. The first person that came to mind was my grandfather. I often dream of us walking through the forest together – just the two of us. I always had so much to say, and he would listen, really listen, like no one else did. This quiet rush of emotion caught me off guard. It was such a comforting feeling, and honestly, it made me seriously consider bringing that painting home. There was one painting of his – the very first one I saw – that I instantly fell in love with. The texture was just stunning. But truthfully, it was way out of our budget. Still, every painting of his was beautiful in its own way, each with unique colours and textures. I would’ve taken them all home if I could!

When I found out we were actually taking one of his paintings home, I was over the moon – but also in total disbelief, especially since my husband had been pretty adamant we weren’t getting it! Now it hangs right above my desk, and every time I look at it, I feel this quiet joy – a soft mix of warmth, comfort, and happiness. It’s like having a little piece of that moment with me, every single day.

Since coming back, I’ve really been trying to hold on to that sense of clarity I felt on the trip. I’m not chasing perfect routines or setting big, ambitious goals right now. I just want to be more present – take time to check in with how I’m really feeling, slow down a little, and make space for the things that truly light me up. That means doing more of what I used to love—like wandering through museums and getting lost in beautiful art, catching a musical just because, or simply being a little more adventurous again. Traveling reminded me how much joy there is in simply getting out there and trying new things – or old things I haven’t done in a while. It’s not always easy to carve out time, especially as a mom, but I’m learning that reconnecting with the parts of me that make me feel alive isn’t selfish. It’s actually one of the best things I can do for the people around me.

If you’ve been feeling a bit off or disconnected lately, just know you’re not alone. Life can get so full that we forget about the simple joys. But it’s never too late to come back to yourself – one small step or sweet reminder at a time.