Someday

One participant had been putting off telling her business partner the truth for a long time, hoping to save the relationship.

Another had set aside his dream of working with wild animals, and stayed in a business he owned but no longer loved.

A third dreamed of starting a podcast about processing grief, but never felt ready.

And for years, I ignored the voice inside me telling me to spend more time in nature, move my body and create transformational experiences in the wild.

What do these stories have in common?

Someday.

Someday I’ll tell my business partner this isn’t working for me anymore.

Someday I’ll sell the business and start working with animals.

Someday I’ll start that podcast.

Someday I’ll guide trails in the wild.

What if someday never comes?

What is the price of waiting? What if you spend your life living someone else’s dream rather than your own? How would it feel, twenty or thirty years from now, to look back and realise you never found the courage to make the leap?

Sometimes the call comes as a crisis. Sometimes as a burst of inspiration. More often it’s subtle: a quiet knowing, deep down, telling you it’s time to bring something to life.

Why we keep putting it off

It’s easy to keep postponing, because daily life is loud. Your career, the logistics of your household, your partner, your kids, your social life, ageing parents. The list goes on. Each of these deserves attention, and together they leave little room for the quiet voice inside.

That voice doesn’t shout. It whispers. And a whisper can’t compete with a full calendar.

How someday became today for me

I still struggle at times to walk my own path, the path of my wild self. But one day I decided to start, however small.

First came a small retreat in the Netherlands, where I finally gave myself permission to explore what I truly wanted. Then I trained as a coach. In 2025, I qualified as a nature guide and co-facilitated a leadership trail in Botswana. In 2026, I trained as a breathwork facilitator and guided my own trail through the Okavango Delta.

None of those steps felt like a giant leap at the time. Each one simply made the next one possible.

Why stepping away helps

That’s why I believe it sometimes matters to remove yourself from the noise altogether. Space creates clarity. Silence amplifies the voice you’ve been ignoring.

That’s what our trails are for: giving that gentle voice the space it has been longing for. Space for the conversation about your dreams, the difficult conversations still to be had, and the things that are ready to be let go of.

What I wish for you

Whenever you read this, I hope this is the time that you:

• listen to your heart
• stop making excuses and find the courage to take the leap, however small
• let go of other people’s expectations
• face your fears and listen to that soft whisper inside
• stop waiting for your life to finally begin
• become your own best friend
• go after what you really want

So that someday becomes today.