11/08/2025 - I’m going to buy a van.

Hello readers,

I’m in Nîmes visiting my family. I arrived at the start of July and plan to stay another ten days before heading to Antibes to enjoy time with friends. It’s been an intense month. The last time I wrote, I was in Spain, alone, moving to my own rhythm. Since then, life has been a whirlwind: I went on a European Tour with the man I work for, who’s a public speaker. Four cities, four countries, four conferences, four different venues… all in ten days, with only one day to recharge in between. By the end, I was completely done.

Shortly after the tour began, I got a call from my aunt telling me my grandma had been taken to the hospital. That same night, she passed away. The same grandmother I had been seeking to connect with through my journey in Andalusia. Life has such a strange way of weaving events together. I had been walking the land she was born on, retracing her footsteps, eating the food she once loved, without knowing she would soon be gone.

When I was in Spain, I had already decided to come visit my family after the tour, and her, too. I booked my flight a week before she passed. Simple coincidence? Maybe... It feels as though I was being called to be here, to stand with the people who loved her, right after she crossed over. We’ve spent a lot of time talking about her; her wit, her charisma, her complete lack of filter. I suppose I inherited that last part.

It’s been beautiful to learn more about her life, though bittersweet. We’ve shared stories, remembered our childhoods, and held space for each other. I love my family, but after the tour and everything that followed, being surrounded by so many people in such an intense moment was a lot. Today, for the first time, I felt grounded again. Everyone has left, and I’m now with just my aunt and uncle in their beautiful Mediterranean home.

Looking back, this Mercury retrograde starting on July 17th (the day I flew out for the tour) and ending yesterday when my cousins flew home, was, as always, chaotic. Every retrograde reminds me to surrender, because control is simply not an option. Routines? Gone. Focus? Out the window. Restrictions? Not in my vocabulary.

During these times, I lose track and have to remind myself that I’ve been through it enough to know it will pass. My only job is to let go, flow… and push through when I can. Today I feel lighter, as if the snow globe I’ve been trapped in for the past three weeks has finally settled, the flurries slowly drifting down.

But out of all this chaos came a clear decision: I’m going to buy a van. It will eventually lead me to my next dream; a sailboat. But first things first. The decision hit me like a revelation during the tour, when I found myself once again in that all-too-familiar place: living out of a suitcase with no home base. As freeing as it can be, it gets old fast.

I’ve spent months weighing cities and countries, imagining where I might settle. But the truth is, I’ve been traveling for most of my twenties, and no matter where I land, I eventually crave movement again. Instead of fighting one part of myself to please the other, I’ve decided to merge both: I’ll have a home that moves.

A sailboat isn’t in my budget yet (and for those wondering, my sailing experience is limited to three summer sailing camps between ages 12 and 15, but I loved it, and will learn). And with dedication, I'll get there eventually. The van though is far more doable. I’ve already set my goal: buy it by the start of 2026.

And I’m not talking about tossing a mattress into the back of a rusty car. If I do it, I’ll do it well. I’ve been researching options and I have my eye on a Sprinter. Either I’ll renovate it from scratch or find one with the basics (water, electricity) already in place. I want a shower, a small kitchen, and enough comfort to explore the many places on my list.

When the decision landed, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t committed sooner. The truth is, I’d thought about van life before, but resisted it because of how it might be perceived. I didn’t want to be labeled the hippie, boho, crazy woman living off-grid. Then I realized… I am her. I’ve always been her. And learned to love her enough to let her be.

Once I embraced that, the excitement came rushing in. I started imagining my dream van, the little details, the fun sporty toys in additions, the gadgets all around, the places I’d go. I pictured driving through Georgia, Norway, Montenegro… maybe even adopting a cat to be my travel companion. The possibilities feel endless, and every time I think about it, I smile.

I also know abundance can’t flow without a container to receive it. So, I opened a dedicated bank account for my van fund, transferred the first chunk of money, and put my full intention into making it happen. Almost immediately, two people I knew, “randomly” reached out to work with me. This month, I earned more than I ever have before. That’s the magic of having a goal worth chasing; my focus becomes razor sharp.

So, I’ll keep you posted in the coming months, from finding the van, to the build, to the final touches. I might even create some content about the process, because I’ve been loving watching those videos myself. For now, I’m just excited. The next chapter is calling!

With love, Loune.