Housesitting and traveling after solitude
After three weeks of stillness, I arrived in Ruse—and remembered what it’s like to feel the world all over again. Solo travel after isolation has a way of sharpening the senses. Ruse was quiet, layered, and full of spaces I didn’t know I needed. At that moment, to me, this was more than a destination—it was a gentle return from solitude.
This is my first post, but I don’t want it to be introductory. I’ve been traveling for more than ten years already, but I always thought that my experience was not enough or specific enough to share with anyone. Only recently have I gotten the feeling that it doesn’t matter if it is unique or common—I need to share. Yeah, that is what it was—the NEED.
And here I am. Opening my space to all who dare and care to enter. You are welcome into my quiet inner room.
You know what housesitting is? When you take care of someone’s house when this someone is away? This is what I am doing this summer for a friend—taking care of her house, garden, chicken, dog, cats… and everything in between. It’s been a month since she left, and I’ve stayed in solitude and silence.
When I decided to stay here, I thought that this time would be beneficial for me in so many ways. Like:
I could hear myself more clearly
My wishes
My needs
My wants
I could spend more time with my hobbies (finally)
Read more
Meditate more
Practice yoga
Finish those series I started three months ago
But the truth is—my expectations were far from reality. I started to hear something louder, but not myself.
NOISES
All the noises in the house—an old house on the outskirts of the small village close to the hunting grounds—are deafening at night. So loud that I wasn’t able to sleep for the first two weeks. But I should leave a spoiler—it gets better in a month.
ANXIETY
This character visits me from time to time, regardless of the location, but here… At some point, I realized that I started to have panic attacks when I heard a scratch I could not identify.
SELF-DOUBT
I started to have more free time here, as I rarely have any social interactions, and nothing distracts me from work. What it means—I do my work faster. What I think—I don’t work enough. I have some problems with self-blaming and guilt; I work on it with my therapist.
And that sounds quite terrible, but is it so? Honestly, it was terrible for the first three weeks; three weeks is exactly the period it takes to shape a new habit. Now, it’s been four weeks, and I finally feel…relieved.
But there was one more remarkable event that I think influenced how I eventually felt—a trip to Ruse, a small city on the border of Bulgaria and Romania. The city itself is not that prominent, but the timing and my own traveling experience made the difference.
After three weeks of stillness, I arrived in Ruse—and remembered what it’s like to feel the world all over again. I walked in the park and felt the excitement of a child who hasn’t been to the playground for a long time. Solo travel after isolation has a way of sharpening the senses. Ruse was quiet, layered, and full of spaces I didn’t know I needed. And I truly needed them. At that moment, to me, this was more than a destination—it was a gentle return from solitude, from withdrawal, from my own demons that started to crawl.
And you know what I think? Inner transformation through travel has nothing to do with the number of countries you’ve visited, the number of museums you’ve been to, or the number of miles you’ve covered. Sensory travel, emotional travel, slow travel are what change us. When you step onto the ground of a new city, your mind should be present to absorb all the nuances surrounding you.
Isolation helped me slow down, ground myself, and return to the present moment from all those pasts and futures.
The light in between those buildings, whispers of the leaves above my head, the slow run of the Danube there in the distance, a group of birds flying into my camera, a resonating sculpture in the middle of the green, a small cafe with lots of books that is so easy to miss in the labyrinth of streets and lanes.
All those small feelings are so easy to miss.
From the Inside Out 