Last weekend felt like something out of a gentle dream—one of those rare, heartwarming turns in life that you don’t see coming but end up exactly where you needed to be.

It started with a simple reconnection. A friend I hadn’t spoken to in a long while suddenly popped back into my life. We were talking about something practical—sponsoring folks for a mutual friend’s workshop. Just a few casual IG messages at first. But those messages turned into little windows, and before I knew it, we were seeing more clearly the kind of people we’ve each become.

We decided to FaceTime—just to clarify some workshop stuff, really. But funny how those “quick chats” sometimes crack open deeper doors. What was supposed to be logistical turned into a soft unraveling of our journeys. We talked about the hard things we’ve been through—the kind you don’t always say out loud. And we listened. Really listened. It felt like support in its purest form.

Then came the surprise. A last-minute invite from them:
“Hey, want to come along for a quick trip and dinner celebration?”

Something in me—something quiet but strong—said yes. No overthinking. No hesitating. Just a green flag from my gut. And I followed it.

On Saturday, I woke up feeling kind of pressured—but I knew I’d make it on time. While getting ready to leave for SFO airport, Jenna popped into my head. We used to travel together, pack together, make little lists of things to bring and do. This time, it was just me. But her way of preparing—neat, organized, calm—still lived in my muscle memory. So I followed her method. And honestly? It helped.

On the way to SFO, my mind started spinning. Financial worries. Budgeting. Bills I needed to cover soon. A wave of anxiety snuck in. My eyes blurred for a second, and I knew I had to pause. I closed my eyes, took a breath, and meditated for just a few minutes. I told myself:
Let go of what’s not urgent. Be here. Focus on what’s in front of you.
And just like that, my breath came back. So did my clarity.

At the airport, I waited at the checkpoint for my friend. Around 5:30 AM, they showed up. We hugged, shared a quick catch-up, and headed into security together. The trip had officially begun.

Later, another good friend reached out and said he had taken care of the hotel bookings and other details. That small gesture meant the world. It reminded me that sometimes, people just show up when you need it most. No explanations. Just love in motion.

So I booked a one-way flight—actually, two. San Diego and Los Angeles. I didn’t plan every detail. I just trusted that whatever this weekend was, it was meant to be.

And it was.
Not perfect. Not scripted. But good. So good. I let myself be present. I laughed more. I opened up. I let the winds carry me through moments that felt healing in their simplicity.

This weekend reminded me that letting go doesn’t always mean losing. Sometimes, it means making space for something beautiful to return—or grow anew.

And maybe, just maybe… we’re all a little braver than we think, when we finally listen to what our hearts have been whispering all along:
“Go.”