Freedom Looks Like This – solo travel back to yourself

It's Hard to Leave (even when you're ready to go)

Damianne President – Intentional Travel

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0:00 | 19:09

Have you ever stayed somewhere longer than you wanted to… just in case?

Just in case something important happens at the end. 
Just in case leaving early seems rude. 
Just in case you’re ... fill in the blank.

On a recent solo trip through Japan, I started noticing this instinct in a few different places.

It showed up in a moment on a bus when I realized I was sitting on the “wrong” side to capture the ocean.

It showed up again during a Buddhist fire ritual in Koyasan, when I found myself sitting there long after my curiosity about the ceremony had already been satisfied.

In this episode of *Freedom Looks Like This*, I’m noticing a pattern many of us fall into while traveling (and in everyday life), especially when we’re trying to make the most of our time and avoid missing out. Then, we're determined to make the "right" decision. But some decisions can't be made with logic and a spreadsheet

In this episode

- Solo travel reflections from Japan  
- A Buddhist fire ritual in Koyasan  
- A travel decision between Kobe and Awaji Island  
- The pressure to stay until the end of experiences  
- Noticing the moment when your curiosity is already satisfied


This episode is part of the ongoing series exploring what freedom actually looks like when travelling and in everyday moments.

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SPEAKER_00

I was sitting on the right side of the bus when I caught the first glimpse of the ocean, and my first thud was that I had made a mistake choosing my seat because the ocean was on the other side. I saw someone a few rows ahead of me with their phone pressed to the glass, taking photos of the water as it came into view. And that brought up the thud for me. Oh, I should also be taking a photo. And then I'm on the wrong side. Another thud followed, and that was no. You don't need to take a photo for this moment to count. The ocean is still right here. I can see the light shifting on the water, and I can enjoy the moment, the immersion, without taking a photo. Not that long ago, I probably would have leaned into the first reaction. I might have felt frustrated or tried to move across the aisle in the bus. But this time, I just watched the water and stayed where I was. And it made me realize something about a decision I was stuck in for several days. Most women think solo travel is about being brave or fearless. But it's really about letting go of the expectations holding you in place. This show is about what changes when you stop waiting and take yourself seriously, starting with intentional travel. I'm Demi Ann and this is Freedom. Looks like this. Let's get started. On this trip, I'm really paying attention. And this moment is connected to the decision that I shared with you last week. The decision where I was caught in overthinking. I was trying to decide between two places for the next part of my trip. And at the time that I recorded that episode, I hadn't decided. Both hotels were booked and both were able to be canceled. And I had been living in that indecision for several days already. What I didn't realize at the time was that the answer wasn't going to come from thinking analytically about the situation. It wasn't going to come from weighing all my options over and over again. What I needed to do was notice the feeling that came up as I thought about those two options. And what feeling did I want more of? When I recorded the last episode, I didn't understand that yet. But now I do. On this trip, I've been really tuning in to this feeling of I want more of this. That pure desire. And the first time it happened was in the onsen in Nachikatsura. It was my third visit to a public onsen. And by that point, the experience was becoming familiar. I knew the routine, I knew kind of what was expected of me, and I was settling into a rhythm. And so when I slipped into the hot water that day, my mind just released. And I realized, oh, I do want more of this. I want more of this opportunity to be free of that. As I thought about this, I remembered so many experiences that I hadn't connected yet. So more than 20 years ago, I visited Istanbul with some friends and we went to a hamam for the first time. I loved the experience of the hamam. I loved the whole ritual of being in a place with other women, of having somebody scrub you of so much water. And being able to, like, this is really a space where I can let go completely of whatever is on my mind. And I've loved it so much that I've done hamams in countries all over the world, in Petra and Athens, in Marrakesh, Tunis, Tbilisi. These are just the ones that come to mind immediately. And every time I've gone to the Ham, even if it hasn't been perfect, I have loved the experience. It's one of the places where I really allow myself to slow down completely, where I'm completely present and immersed in it. It's about the water and the quiet. And even just seeing other women going through the same process, my mind uses the opportunity to just wonder or to just actually be completely blank. And so when I was sitting in that onsen in Nachikatsura, I had that simple recognition. Of course, I love this. Of course, this is something I want more of in my life. Why had I never connected the onsen to the Hamam before? But this time the feeling came and it stayed with me. This feeling of contentment and calm. And so the next logical question for me was how can I have more of this on this trip? Japan is known for onsen. How can I have more of this? And even better if it could be an experience where I am in a hot spring. So that question made me look at the rest of my itinerary. I had all my destination plans, but there was flexibility in that. There were a couple of places where the hotel was refundable or the hotel was cancelable without any penalty. And those two were Kobe and He Meiji. At first, I was just curious. I wondered if both hotels had onsens. And I thought, okay, maybe that's enough. Maybe that will give me the experience that I want. But almost immediately I remembered something else that I've mentioned in a recent episode, which is that location affects the pace of your travel. So even if my hotel in Kobe has an on-sen, the city itself would pull me into a different rhythm. Cities invite exploration, right? There's so many things to do. Restaurants, museums, recommendations from friends, list of places I've been collecting that I should try while I'm there. I had that list for Kobe. So would I really just let it go and go to the onten if I stayed in Kobe? Maybe. But likely not. Or at least I would find it really hard to do that. And I'm sure that Kobe is wonderful. But as I was reflecting on this, I thought about a location that might be perfect. I thought, what about Awachi Island? So Owachi had been on my list earlier while I was planning the trip. But I had removed it because I thought, oh, it might be boring. And it was a little bit more expensive than staying in Kobe. So I was being very practical in making that decision. If I stayed in Kobe, I had a list of things to do, I could get them done, I could feel accomplished, and so Owaji kind of disappeared from my mind. But that moment in the onsen, and as I looked at Himeji and Kobe again, Owaji came back to mind. And when I got back to my room after the on-sen experience, I looked at my reservations again. But I didn't cancel it. Instead, I booked a hotel in Owaji. So all of a sudden I had two hotels, right? Both could be canceled. Both looked good as options, but each of them offered their very different things. And I told myself, oh, I will decide later. And I stayed in that indecision for four days. I wasn't actively thinking about it all the time, but it did sit in the back of my mind. And I do remember checking multiple times that I hadn't passed the cancellation date. I didn't want to end up getting charged for two hotels because of sitting in indecision. And then I realized something. I realized that I was falling into a pattern that is oh so familiar to me. And it might be to you too. What happened is that part of me believed that if I gave the decision enough time, the right answer would eventually become obvious. All I needed to do was think about it long enough and consider my options carefully. I'm very good at weighing pros and cons. And if I did that, then I would know the correct choice. This is how my analytical brain works. This is what it likes to default to. And a lot of the time, that's perfect. It works great. But every now and then there are decisions that are more emotional, ones that do not respond well to analysis. And this was one of them. Because what I was thinking about had nothing to do with logic. It wasn't about cost or transportation, because then the decision would be obvious. It wasn't even about the amenities in the hotel. Really, it was about the pace and my desire. What kind of experience did I want to have for the remaining part of my trip, or at least for the foreseeable part of my trip? And unfortunately, that's not a question that I can answer with a spreadsheet as much as I love spreadsheets. And the turning point actually came while I was recording the last episode, episode 17. As I was talking about the pressure to make every travel experience worth it, talking about it out loud allowed me to make a realization that may seem obvious to you. Another moment on the trip started to show me that pattern from a different angle. The past weekend, I stayed in a pilgrim house in Koyasan. And while I was there, I went to a Goma ceremony. It's a fire ritual where you write a wish on a wooden stick along with your name and you place it into the fire as part of a ritual in the temple. The ceremony had already lasted about an hour. And at the beginning I was very curious. Everything about it was unfamiliar to me. And I was paying very close attention. All of the movements that the monk was doing, making with his hands, the careful way that he was placing the sticks before he lit them, the playing of the drums. All of that was fascinating. But somewhere on the hour mark, I was like, okay, how much longer is this going to go? I realized that I had seen what I came to see. I understood the structure of the ceremony. I'd experienced the atmosphere of it. I wasn't gonna put in a goma stick, and even that had already completed. So I felt like I had enough of the experience. But I kept sitting there. I didn't stand up because I started negotiating with myself. Maybe I could give it 15 more minutes and see what happens. What if there's something dramatic that's gonna happen at the end and I'm gonna miss it if I leave now? And is it rude if I leave? Everyone else was still sitting there. The room was quiet and focused. Living would mean standing up and walking out while the ceremony was still happening. So I sat there for a few more minutes, just watching my mind go through all these questions. And even though I knew that I was done, I'd had enough of the ceremony, my instinct was to stay because everybody else was staying, and maybe they knew something that I didn't know. I don't know, maybe something dramatic did happen after I leave, but it doesn't matter. The interesting part for me isn't what happened after I left, but it's really noticing how hard it was for me to trust the feeling that I was already finished. I realize that I default to that quite often when something says, that's enough. I might still stay. And so I've been thinking about that moment because I want to learn from that negotiation that I caught myself in. It's that negotiation of just in case. Stay just in case the best part hasn't happened yet. Or stay just in case somebody sees you leave and think that you didn't appreciate the experience. And once I started paying attention to this, I realized that it shows up all the time. So often I hold myself back because I'm negotiating between my wants and other people's emotions and other people's responses. And that's not just when I'm traveling, it happens in my everyday life when I'm back home as well. I stayed through John Wick, even though I hated that movie. And I had to avert my eyes for most of it. I stayed sitting at the kitchen table when I'm done and not involved in the conversation because somebody's visiting and everybody else is still talking. Even though they didn't visit me. I just happened to be there at the same time. And it used to happen in reading books where I thought that I needed to finish them. Thank goodness I've outgrown this. And now I'm working on doing that with museums where I can buy a ticket and just see part of the display or just the permanent collection or just the new collection, and I don't have to go through all of the different rooms, even the ones that I'm not interested in. Is it just me or do you also feel that pressure to complete experiences? So stay until it is officially ended. It's as if we think that the only way we can get value from something is if we consume all of it. But that's not the case. At least that's not the case for me. Sometimes I can get enough out of something with just a piece of it. Here I was doing the exact same thing. Here I was trying to optimize the decision and arrive at the best choice. And at the end of the episode I asked listeners, what do you think I should do? Kobe or Owaji? But after I finished recording, the answer was very clear to me. It was almost embarrassing when I noticed it. I realized that I had already decided. I had probably decided back in that onsen in Nachika. I had probably decided back in that onsen in Nachikatsura. So was I gonna tap into that feeling or was I going to try to fall into my old patterns? And when I answered that question, that I really wanted to tune into my body, to my feelings, the decision wasn't at all complicated anymore. And so I cancelled the Kobe Hotel right away. And later, the next morning, something funny happened. A friend who had sent me the Kobe recommendations listened to the episode and she messaged me. She said she thought I should go to Awaji. And I was very thoughtful of her. But by the time she sent the message, the decision had already been made. And maybe that's why this small moment on the bus stayed with me. Sitting on what felt like the wrong side. Watching somebody else take a picture of the ocean. Did their experience mean that mine needed to change or be improved in some way? Did I need to capture the moment as proof of something? Sometimes the moment is enough. It's given you everything that you need. And sometimes you need a little bit more than the moment. And how do we know? How do we know when the right thing to do is to stay in the moment and not change or try to control ever anything? And how do we know when it's the right time to change something or to leave? Noticing that difference is not something that many of us were taught. Many of us were taught to finish what we start. We think that that means we're going to get our money's worth and that we're going to have experience whatever it is properly. But when we do that, when we fall into the trap of optimization, then we're forgetting what is it that we actually want. Before I end this episode, I want to leave you with an invitation. As usual, it's something for you to pay attention to. At some point in the next few days, you might find yourself in a moment that feels a little bit like that ceremony in Koya San for me. You might notice the moment where your curiosity is already satisfied. You have no more interest in the conversation or in the experience. It has already given you everything that you want out of it. But then another voice appears. Will something better happen if you stay? Or would it be rude if you leave? Does it make you a better person if you see the whole thing through? Just notice the moment when it happens, when you start negotiating with yourself. Is that you recognizing when something is finished, but allowing old habits and old expectations to start building the case for why you should stay anyway? You don't have to do anything about it right now. You could decide to stay, you could decide to leave, and you could just notice. But what I really want you to do is just realize that you actually have a choice. You're allowed to make a choice of whether you stay or go, regardless of how other people might perceive it. Thanks for spending this time with me. If something in this episode resonated, choose one small action from today and try it in whatever way feels doable for you. And if you want the simplest place to start, you can join my school community to build a bit of momentum.