February’s Muse
When a Plan Comes to an End,
Could it Pave the Way for New Beginnings?
Barregem de Beliche, Azihnal, Portugal. Photo by Wendy Stieg
“Failure is not the opposite of success; it is part of success.”
— Arianna Huffington
When a Plan Comes to an End
As January of 2026 comes to a close, I am reminded of how connected endings are with new beginnings. We love to think of stories as separate, complete entities that somehow just arrived, but what happened before the story? Why was Goldilocks trying to find somewhere to sleep? Maybe she lost her apartment, needed a snack, and figured the Bears would let her hang out. Regardless, something happened, and now Goldilocks is looking for somewhere to live, presumably. That is true for us as well.
Once I get on board with something, I am all in. So in that, I can lose sight of other possibilities. I become one with The Plan. But when that plan falls apart, it can feel like grieving a real loss. I feel unsteady, like the ground has shifted beneath me. What I often forget is that maybe the loss had to happen so that I could find the plan, and the travel situation, that is actually right for me.
We recently learned that, for now, Portugal is not going to happen. We took a big risk and tried to buy a cottage in the Algarve. We didn’t fail, but our plan to buy that cottage did. We spent time sitting with that truth, and while it was difficult, it also revealed something unexpected. Now we have an opportunity. Does it have to be Portugal? Of course not. Maybe it will be the country we eventually invest in, and maybe it won’t.
What this ending opened up is another long-held dream. For years, we have talked about seeing the Giro d’Italia, the Tour de France, and La Vuelta, the triple crown of European bike racing. We are just beginning to allow the idea of a trip to Italy to surface, and we are exactly in this in-between stage. I’ve written more about what it can feel like when plans unravel, and how slowing down helps clarify what actually matters, in The Chateau Fights Back.
People Don’t Fail, Plans Fail
If I have learned anything in life, it is this: the only way you accomplish anything is by not giving up. That does not mean clinging to one version of how something must happen. Sometimes what needs to change is how you move toward something, not whether you are going to do it.
The decision to eventually buy in Europe has not changed. What has changed is how we plan to get there. This is not failure. It is part of the path. It is also part of how we think about the next stage of life and what retirement might look like. Seen this way, this situation has been strangely positive. It has given rise to a new trip to Italy, a place I have never been, and that feels incredibly exciting. It has also helped us recognize that seeing this bike tour is truly a bucket-list experience. We are giving ourselves permission to take the time for it, and to allow life to offer something different, and perhaps better, than what we first imagined.
How Endings Inform New Beginnings
Our plans for buying property in Portugal had been in place for a long time. What we hadn’t done was pause and ask ourselves if Portugal was the only place that could work. Somewhere in the back of my mind were other ideas I hadn’t allowed myself to fully consider. I want to spend more time in France, Italy, and Spain before settling on a long-term plan. That realization brings more travel with it, which feels like a gift.
The end of one possibility is laying the groundwork for something new. It is also an opportunity to slow things down enough to allow life to show us what fits best. After giving ourselves time to feel the sorrow of not being able to buy the cottage, we arrived at something unexpected. Not just hope, but a sense of renewed excitement. Allowing one plan to end, and staying open to what follows, can reveal inspiration that feels far more aligned.
Maybe for you, it is a trip you can no longer take for a variety of reasons. That is not the end of everything. It is the end of one version. If you let it, that ending can quietly guide you toward a beginning that suits you even better.
Giro d’Italia
Letting the New Plan Take Shape
When one plan closes, the field often widens. Options become visible again. The mind opens. You are no longer singularly focused on making one thing work, even if it may not be the right thing for you. Inspiration is often born out of something not working out.
Endings give you permission to imagine alternatives without urgency. There is always more than one way to do anything. That is hard to see when you are deeply attached to one plan and convinced it is the only way forward. It is not the only way. It is simply a way. Allowing that plan to end creates space for a new one to take shape. And with the experience you now carry, that next plan is often wiser and more grounded.
Trusting the New Beginning
Goldilocks and the Three Bears is just a snapshot in time. We never ask what happened before, or what came after.
Maybe Papa Bear lost his job, and the shed was nice enough to rent out short-term to Goldilocks while he figured out his next step. Maybe Baby Bear just didn’t want to share his room. Maybe this transition gave Goldilocks the time to find a better apartment, and the Bears had just enough money to cover the mortgage while life reorganized itself.
Not a perfect ending. Just lives continuing.
When plans end, they often make room for more adventure and a better overall direction. Where will we end up? Right now, I have no idea. But I am genuinely excited to find out.
If you’re curious about the perspective this work comes from, and why travel here is treated as lived experience rather than logistics, I’ve shared that more fully in This Is Where the Writing Is Coming From.
January’s Muse
Staying Oriented in a Noisy World
Portugal. VW California Campervan.
Photo by Wendy Stieg
There is noise right now. It pulls at your attention from every direction, asking for your time, your energy, your opinions. It can start to feel hard to think clearly, as if your focus is constantly being tugged away from what you know actually matters. Attention drifts toward things you cannot control, the mind keeps scanning, and the body tightens. Over time, too much of this leads to overwhelm and burnout. It is not a personal failure. It is simply what happens when everything stays loud for too long. Sometimes life adds real challenges on top of that noise, and the instinct is to pull away or escape. That response is natural. The noise itself does not turn off, but you can choose where you place your attention.
You know what is right for you. Your body knows. There is often a sense of calm the moment you return to yourself. That pivot can feel like an internal compass, quietly re-orienting you toward what you know matters. Learning to redirect your energy, focus, and thoughts is a skill that takes time, but it can begin simply by noticing when something does not feel good or helpful. That awareness alone is often enough to shift direction. Choosing what supports you, what steadies you, and what brings clarity is not disengagement. It is a way of moving away from the noise without leaving your life. Sometimes it even means changing your surroundings altogether, and remembering that you are allowed to do that too.
I have some upcoming trips ahead, with loose ideas of where I’m going and what I hope to explore. Before planning or researching, I often find it grounding to reflect on past trips and notice what actually worked. One moment that comes back to me happened while we were driving from Lisbon to Sevilla in our little red VW California campervan. We were edging closer to Spain when the van had other ideas. A tire blew out in a roundabout in a small town in eastern Portugal. Panic set in for me immediately as Paul eased the van to the side of the road, perched at an awkward angle with very little room to spare.
War Memorial Promises Help in Portugal. Photo by Wendy Stieg
I left Paul and the van behind to look for help, armed with clunky Portuguese and no real plan. Paul had mentioned that the jack included with the VW was affectionately known as “the Widowmaker,” which did nothing to calm my nerves. Eventually, I found a small fire station. A kind bombeiro helped us wrangle a safer jack, and somehow, between him and Paul, the tire was changed. At some point, as my mind raced ahead to worst-case scenarios, another thought surfaced. Whatever happened next, we were in Portugal. My body began to calm. So did my thoughts.
The plan had already been undone, and yet the day carried on. Not long after, we found ourselves having lunch in a small local restaurant just across the border in Spain, laughing at how quickly the mood had shifted. That moment set the tone for the rest of the trip. Things rarely go exactly as planned, but when you stay oriented instead of clenched, unexpected ease and joy have a way of finding you. And if nothing else, I learned that in Portugal, at least, they still believe in real spare tires.
Let things fall apart. Stop exhausting yourself trying to hold them together.
— Meryl Streep
The Guadiana River. Photo by Wendy Stieg
Flat tire in Portugal. Photo by Wendy Stieg
Help is on the Way. Photo by Wendy Stieg
A “Light Lunch” in Spain, after the unexpected.
Photo by Wendy Stieg
What moments like this remind me of is something I already know. Life becomes gentler when you trust yourself to navigate it. Not by forcing certainty or controlling every outcome, but by allowing yourself to respond honestly to what is in front of you. When you stop fighting the unfolding and start listening, alignment follows. You are not being carried through your experiences. You are participating in them, shaping them as you go.
If it helps to hold onto this kind of reflection, the Five Things: Gratitude Journal was created for moments like this.
The Spanish Countryside. Photo by Wendy Stieg
There is relief in remembering this. A sense of steadiness that arrives when you stop rushing toward the next decision and simply stay with where you are. Breathing slows. Perspective widens. You do not need to have everything figured out. You only need to stay oriented, present enough to notice what is unfolding, and willing to meet it as yourself. Allow this energy to help inform your thoughts on planning, but better yet, allow space, and the inspiration will come!