BloG

Lately, I’ve been noticing the world differently — the way light falls on wet tarmac, the texture of moss, the small rituals of everyday life. Things that once passed unnoticed now feel louder, richer, and more alive.

Wintering isn’t withdrawal — it’s discernment. In quieter seasons, we learn when to rest, when to connect, and which people and places still warm us. This reflection is about choosing presence over performance, and listening more closely to what truly nourishes us.

Recording my audiobook in Santa Cruz reminded me that connection is the quiet engine behind every journey — from the pelicans at the lighthouse to the meteorite I held at the Griffith Observatory to the laughter of friends who helped me get here.

This is the latest in my Stoic Rider series, reflecting on a journey across the US that took me from a reunion with the Hayabusa I once rode at Bonneville, to the redwoods of California and the camaraderie of women riders in Maine. Along the way I found community, laughter, and reminders of Stoic truths: that nature restores us, obstacles shape us, and connection gives life its meaning.

After an inspiring weekend at The Overland Event, I reflect on community, conversation, and the Stoic practice of the Dichotomy of Control. I went away from the weekend feeling part of something much bigger than myself. It felt good.

This is a standalone reflection inspired by my weekend at the Gone Wild festival in Devon. Supported by Bear Grylls and the Royal Marines Charity, the event was a wild mix of mud, fear, and community. It reminded me of some timeless Stoic truths: the value of nature, the strength of the body, the power of mind over fear, and the joy of belonging to something bigger than yourself.