There are moments in life that quietly change everything. Not because something huge happens, but because your mind finally becomes still enough to hear yourself.

Ever since coming home from Mexico, I’ve felt different. I haven’t been able to fully explain it, but I came home with a sense of clarity that I haven’t felt in years. Not the kind of clarity that gives you every answer, but the kind that helps you finally understand what truly matters. I think that’s one of the greatest gifts of stepping away from your everyday life. When you’re constantly taking care of everyone else, running from one responsibility to the next, it’s hard to hear your own heart. Sometimes you need distance before you can finally see clearly.

A few days after coming home, I told my husband that I wanted to visit a little town nearby. I couldn’t really explain why. I just felt pulled there. We’ve spent years being practical, focused on saving money, making our starter home work, and building the life we have one step at a time. We’ve never gone somewhere simply to imagine what our future could look like. But this time felt different.

The moment we arrived, we looked at each other and said, “Wow.” It happened almost immediately. There was something about the streets, the little shops, the families walking around, and the overall feeling of the town that just felt like us. We could both picture ourselves living there. We decided to have brunch inside a beautiful old greenhouse, and as we walked down the main street afterward, we passed a restaurant with my name, Gabby, on the sign. We laughed and joked about what a funny coincidence it was before continuing on with our day.

After brunch, we took our daughter to explore one of the local parks. She absolutely loved it. It was one of those playgrounds where you could tell kids could spend hours climbing, exploring, and using their imagination. While she was playing, I happened to notice a small sign explaining where the playground had been designed and built. It was the city where I went to college at Cornell, Ithaca, NY!

I honestly just stood there for a second. We weren’t anywhere near that city, and there was no reason I should have expected to see that name there. It was one of those tiny moments that makes you stop and wonder.

Then I remembered something that had happened earlier that afternoon. While I was in the restroom at brunch, I suddenly felt this wave move through my body. The closest thing I can compare it to is electricity. For just a few seconds, I had this overwhelming feeling that I had been there before. Not because I recognized the restaurant, but because somehow it felt deeply familiar. It felt like I had shared that exact brunch with my little family hundreds of times before, even though it was our very first visit.

The only other time I’ve ever experienced that feeling was years ago in Mexico. Long before I ever hosted retreats there. Long before I knew anything about the Ixchel Temple or imagined that island would become such a meaningful part of my life. I remember standing there with that exact same feeling washing over me, almost like some part of me already knew that place would become important long before my mind caught up.

As we drove home, we passed one more little shop. Its name was Serene. At that point we just laughed. A restaurant with my nickname. A playground connected to the city where I went to college. A shop called Serene. Maybe they were coincidences. Maybe they were signs. Honestly, I don’t know. But I do know how they made me feel.

On the drive home, we looked at each other and agreed that someday we wanted to live there. We don’t have the money today, and we have no idea exactly when that day will come. But for the first time, I wasn’t spiraling about how we were going to make it happen. I wasn’t trying to force an answer or calculate every step. Instead, I felt this deep sense of peace that somehow it would all work out.

I think that’s why this kind of spiritual work matters so much to me. It’s not because I believe it magically gives us everything we want. It’s because it gives us the space to slow down enough to figure out what we actually want in the first place. Before Mexico, I don’t know that I would have ever visited that town. I probably would have stayed focused on being practical and convincing myself that dreaming could wait until someday. Instead, I came home with enough clarity to start listening to those quiet nudges that had been there all along.

Whether those moments that day were signs from God, the universe, or simply the result of finally paying attention, I don’t know if I’ll ever have the answer. But I’m incredibly grateful for them. Because they reminded me that sometimes the life you’re meant to build doesn’t begin with a plan. Sometimes it begins with finally becoming quiet enough to hear the whisper that says, “This way.”