The Journey Begins – Why I Travel Alone

Before I leave, I make a contract with myself: this journey is mine.

Every encounter, every experience is a mirror—reflecting what’s in my field, showing me the blocks, the patterns, the stories I’m ready to release.

We are energetic beings, constantly influenced by the morphogenetic field around us. 

When we travel alone, we meet the world without distraction. 

The world becomes our reflection, and every situation becomes part of the conversation between our inner and outer energy. 

That’s why I choose to travel alone.

Before each trip, I only book the first one or two nights — never more. The rest unfolds intuitively. 

I listen, I feel, I let the path reveal itself. This way, I’m not forcing the experience; I’m co-creating it with the energy of the place. Traveling alone requires presence. Without the noise of others or the comfort of control, the world starts speaking to you.

You begin to notice what resonates, what triggers, what opens, and what closes. The journey itself becomes a living dialogue with your consciousness — a way to reprogram the nervous system through direct experience, not through theory.

Sometimes it’s beautiful. Sometimes it hurts. But it’s always real. And with every step, every choice, every surrender, I understand a little more about who I truly am — and how the energy around me moves with me. This is the start. 

The real journey begins not when you arrive somewhere, but when you decide to let go and trust the way ahead.And when I say surrender, I mean true surrender — that includes going to places that make no logical sense. But you’re traveling with your intuition, not with your brain, remember? 

So if you’re called to a place that takes longer than expected, just start the journey.

I can share a little from my own experience. One day, I wanted to ride to a lighthouse at the edge of the island of Santorini on a motorcycle. But there was so much traffic and strong wind that driving became horrible. In the middle of the trip, I stopped instead at a very famous church in Pyrgos. And it turned out to be a gift: I enjoyed the view, the stairs leading to the church, and the many little souvenir shops. It was better than the lighthouse — a small blessing from the universe. 

Maybe it wasn’t my time to see the lighthouse that day; maybe it will find me on another.This is what I mean by intuitive traveling: you follow the call, not what “makes sense.”