It’s a strange thing, learning to live with impermanence.

Since we set off on this journey, we’ve stayed in eight different homes, a tent, and a retreat centre. Plans arise and dissolve. Opportunities appear, and vanish just as quickly—only to be replaced, redirected, or paused entirely. Change has become our rhythm. The unpredictable has become normal.

I had prepared myself for the challenges of this way of living. I knew it would stretch us practically. But what I didn’t know is how steady I would feel—how the soul seems to be walking a path that the mind cannot yet map.

It’s been four weeks since we began our coddiwomple—a purposeful wandering toward an as-yet-unknown destination. In that time, my partner and I have traded the familiar for the fluid. Each day brings unexpected lessons, especially about the art of letting go.

What surprised me most? I don’t miss my altar.

I created a travel version, carefully packed it… and haven’t touched it.

Instead, I’ve been turning inward more deeply than ever. The sacred hasn’t been lost—it’s been distilled.

As Rumi says:

“Everything you seek is within you.” Even altars.

This is Part 1 of a new series I’m sharing—reflections on what it means to release, root, and remember ourselves on the move.

I’m calling it A Sacred Unravelling.