Welcome to Issue #004 of Sojourn. Each week, I share two original essays to rebuild life and work with intention (hence ‘sojourn’)—in a private community that uses travel as a tool for reinvention.
I used to think outgrowing a title meant disloyalty.
Then a quiet stay made it obvious: the feeling wasn’t betrayal—it was becoming.
At an eco-hermitage in Umbria, days ran on bells and candlelight. No TV. No inbox. Dinner at a long table. In the quiet, an old costume loosened. Not because I rejected my past, but because I finally fit my present. Travel didn’t erase anything; it edited what no longer ‘belonged’.
WHY “BETRAYAL” SHOWS UP
Sunk costs: years invested make change feel wasteful.
Audience lock-in: bios and titles become cages.
Identity lag: you changed; the story didn’t—yet.
WHAT’S ACTUALLY HAPPENING
Values matured. Your criteria sharpened.
Roles shifted. Season of life ≠ old job description.
Capacity clarified. What’s essential stands out.
TRY THIS ON YOUR NEXT STAY
Title-free 48 hours: no job labels, no “what do you do” script. Introduce yourself by what you’re exploring.
Exit interview (15 min): write to your past role: “Thank you for…” “I’m keeping…” “I’m releasing…”
Future postcard: one page from your stay to your six-months-from-now self. Mail it.
LIGHT SCRIPTS YOU CAN COPY
Pre-arrival
“Hi [Name], I’m aiming for a reflective stay. If possible: a quiet room, no newspaper/TV on, a kettle and paper/pen. Thank you.”
At check-in
“I’m keeping mornings device-free. Is there a sunrise spot you recommend?”
At dinner
“Could I have a slower service pace tonight? I’m journaling between courses.”
PACK A TINY “BECOMING” KIT
Notebook + pen • one grounding object (scarf/stone/charm) • analog watch • warm light app/mini lamp.
IF YOU’RE TRAVELING WITH OTHERS
Agree on one shared boundary (no phones at breakfast). Keep the rest personal. Celebrate feel, not rules.
BRING IT HOME (30 DAYS)
Shoes off at the door.
First hour: paper, tea, no news.
Weekly “exit interview” with one habit you’ve outgrown.
REFLECTION
What story about you is past its season?
Which part of your old role deserves gratitude—and release?
What single practice would make your next chapter inevitable?
You’re not cheating on your past. You’re honoring your present.
That’s not betrayal. That’s becoming.
~Ana