Why sadness often shows up before a trip (and what it’s telling you)

Letting Go of a Chapter I’m Not Quite Ready to Release

The day before a long journey is never a moment of pure excitement for me. People often imagine I’d be bouncing around with enthusiasm, but honestly, it feels very different. I walk through my home and something in me becomes heavy. Not in a negative way, but in an old, familiar, farewell kind of way. As if I’m taking one last look at everything that has carried me these past months: the scent of my home, the morning light, the spot on the couch where I drink my tea, and of course Aapie, who circles around me in that unmistakable way because he senses that something is shifting. In those moments I don’t just feel the movement forward. I also feel that something is ending, and that touches me more than I sometimes admit.

 

Why this sadness shows up for me

I know most people expect me to feel happy right now, but my system works differently. I’m someone who truly bonds with the place where she lives and works. With my rhythm, my neighbourhood, the ground beneath my feet. So when I have to let that go, I feel it deeply. The sadness that rises isn’t doubt. It’s simply my body saying goodbye. My soul is already on its way, but my body lingers a little longer with what has mattered to me.

And yes, I can be incredibly excited about what’s coming next. I really am. But I’m also someone who feels what is disappearing, and I honestly find that beautiful. It makes my departure more conscious.

 

A soul that moves ahead and a body that stays behind for a moment

Every time I travel, I notice that my energy begins shifting weeks beforehand. My dreams change, new insights arrive, my attention quietly drifts toward where I’m going. But my body… my body is slower. It keeps looking at my things, my people, my workspace, my familiar surroundings. It’s almost tender how literally my body says goodbye. That I run my hand along my bookshelf one more time. Pick up Aapie one more time. Walk through my house once more as if it wants to tell me something.

The sadness that rises is simply my humanness. And I let it come, because I know it’s part of the journey.

 

The silence just before something big

The night before I leave always feels like a kind of in-between world. Everything is ready. The house is clean. The cat sitter is arranged. The suitcase is open or already closed. And then suddenly a silence falls over everything. A heavy-light sort of silence. I know it so well by now. It’s the last exhale of a chapter.

And truthfully, that silence often moves me more than the act of leaving itself. It’s the moment in which I realise how much this home has given me, how much I’ve lived and grown here, and that I’m now really closing a chapter. It isn’t heavy. It’s a gentle recognition. In that moment sadness doesn’t feel like a burden, but like a form of love for what I’m leaving behind.

 

What this phase actually shows me

I’ve learned that when this sadness comes, I shouldn’t push myself to be happy. I need to move with it. Drop into it. Stay present with it. Then it softens. Then I feel: yes, I’m ready. I don’t need to jump. I don’t need to sparkle. I leave exactly as I am, and that’s enough. Travel never begins for me when I show my passport. It begins when I realise I’m leaving something behind. When I feel myself closing a chapter. When I sense that I’m taking a new version of myself somewhere far away. And that whole in-between space — where the old hasn’t fully gone and the new hasn’t fully begun — might be the most spiritual part of travelling. For anyone who recognises this: your sadness doesn’t mean you should stay. It means you’re living with your eyes open.

 

For those who feel that this transition touches something deeper than the idea of taking a trip, and notice that something is moving inside that the mind can’t quite grasp, a session can bring a lot of clarity. In my work I look with you at exactly the layers that awaken in moments like these, so you can understand what’s shifting and why it feels so intense. You’ll find more about this on this website.