Travel Stories and Reflections
Chapters written by the heart

The mountains were watching long before I noticed them. Cusco sits cradled in their arms. Ancient. Towering. Alive. And when you arrive tired, open, unguarded, the spirits of Cusco at midnight inhale you. I had come to Cusco seeking awe and beauty. I found something else. A presence that followed me in the shadows of gardens, behind the folds of shuttered windows, in the air between breaths.

I prayed for stillness. For quiet. For the chance to finally breathe. Then I got it. What I didn't expect was how loud my own mind would become once the noise around me disappeared. In Port St Lucie, I'm learning that leaving one life behind doesn't automatically tell you what comes next. Sometimes, you have to be quiet enough to hear your own voice, and brave enough to trust it.

I miss being in love. Or rather, being in tune to the frequency of love. The quiet hum that settles into your body before your mind interferes. When I think about the last time I was in love, I don't remember his face as clearly as I remember how alive I felt. Nothing about me physically changed. I was simply open. I fell in love by accident in Miami, where warm nights linger and time softens. He wasn't the destination. He was the key. And through him, I slipped into my lo