Learning to Trust

Trust the unfolding- even when it seems like a mystery.

There’s this funny little theme that keeps circling back to me lately. It’s been whispering through the trees in Sweden, humming in the stillness of the forest mornings we had in Norway, and showing up in conversations with strangers who somehow say exactly what I needed to hear. Or in music lyrics and cards drawn to show us a message.

Sweden shots- blueberries, driving around and exploring while helpling out at a warehouse.

It’s the word: home.

Now, if you’ve been following our travels, you know that “home” for us has been anything but traditional. For over two years, we’ve been on the road — moving from one stunning corner of Europe to the next, with a car trunk full of resilience, curiosity, and (if I’m honest) a bit of chaos.

And through it all, I’ve learned something deeply uncomfortable and yet profoundly freeing: Trust doesn’t grow from knowing what’s next — it grows from realizing you don’t need to.

I get stuck- very easily- in the "two-steps ahead trap". I used to plan everything. Where we’d stay next, how long we’d be there, what route we’d take. It made me feel safe — and kept my mind busy, away from anything unpleasant...until the plans didn’t work out. When something fell through (and oh, did it ever), my nervous system would light up like a Christmas tree. Stress, frustration, tight chest, all of it. I’d fall into this mental loop of “Why didn’t that work out? What can we do instead?” The disappointment. The frustration of how much time and energy it takes sometimes to confirm a spot- and then have it fall through...

But time and time again, the universe would prove me wrong. When something didn’t go to plan, what followed was always better. Every. Single. Time.

Another adventure, visiting a national park in Sweden and camping- we saw the largest waterfall in Sweden!

It’s taken countless deep breaths, more than a few teary meditations, and the gentle reminders of my own HeartMath practice to actually trust this truth — that sometimes, the plan falling apart is the plan unfolding.

So I've learned, slowly, to dance between trust and the need to plan. Because, come on, you gotta plan a little bit! We're a traveling family of 5! And yeah, now we have a few places that have basically said we could come at any time if we need a place. So we could always go "back" to them. But we also wanted a see something new this sommer. And somewhere along the way, I started noticing a pattern: When I let go — I mean really let go (which is HARD!)— space opened up. Synchronicities appeared. The right people crossed our path. Doors opened that I couldn’t have forced open if I tried.

Working and playing- when the opportunity present itself to go to Norway we said yes... and boy are we glad we did!

It’s like the moment I stopped gripping the steering wheel so tightly, the journey got smoother… and somehow, more magical.

And yet — even now — there’s this recurring theme of “home” that keeps tugging at me. It shows up in dreams, in songs, in quiet moments by the fire. I don’t know exactly what it means yet.

So what do I do though, if "home" doesn't have an address?

In our family we say: Home is where we’re together. And that’s true. But lately I’ve been wondering… is there something missing?

Are we being called to root deeper into our togetherness? Or maybe it’s an invitation to redefine what home even means — beyond walls and postcodes and storage boxes. Traveling can make you on a certain level rootless, and growing roots is starting to feel more and more important and needed. It's part of what we've been seeing at communities we've been visiting- being grounded and rooted, not only in beliefs but at home too.

Is home a feeling? A vibration? A knowing?

On the beach in Denmark, making new furry friends, learning how to build a roundhouse and my sons drone shot over a lake.

Because right now, as we’ve drifted from the wild beauty of Sweden and Norway this past summer, to a soulful corner of Denmark, and now back to Germany for a bit — surrounded by ancient forests and wisdom that seems to breathe through the soil — I can feel it. Something is shifting. Something is calling. Maybe something is changing.

Maybe home isn’t a place we’re trying to find. Maybe it’s the energy we carry when we finally trust that wherever we land next — we’re meant to be there. Maybe we can start to grow roots somewhere, where home schooling is allowed- yet still travel. Maybe we finally hear about the Green Card that we applied for ALMOST THREE YEARS AGO and can go to the states soon. That's also a huge feeling of home for me! Maybe there's just a whole bunch of maybe's in our life right now and I gotta go back to the trusting bit. Wherever we're meant to go- that's where we're supposed to be.

That's certainly how it felt all summer long. One place we had reached out to ahead of time and had our visit confirmed for a while. All the other places (3 to be exact) came to us. Organically. Just when we needed them. And they needed us. Every time, projects came up that we have experience in and could help with, work needed to be done that was fun and we wanted to learn about... Like it was meant to be. But I hadn't planned those ahead of time.

And the people we met! I truly feel we've made some friends for life. Places that we'll go back to someday and would love to maybe even settle down at in the future- if our journey brings us to a place where we can settle down in Europe at all! Who knows.

So here’s where I am: learning to trust again, even in the not-knowing. Breathing through the uncertainty. Choosing softness over control. And listening… for whatever “home” wants to tell me next.

Because if there’s one thing this journey has taught me, it’s this: When you trust the unfolding, it always — always — unfolds in your favor and just as it should.