Chapter 3: Seeing the Road Ahead
The Turning Point Series: A Journey Through Personal Transformation
San Luis Obispo
Seeing the Road Ahead
“You don’t have to know the whole path. You just need to take the next honest step.”
This part of the journey took me deeper into stillness — into spacious skies and soulful silence. I started to prepare, mentally and emotionally, for the life I was beginning to envision. Not with a detailed plan, but with a growing sense of courage and alignment.
The Turning Point Series: A Journey Through Personal Transformation
They say clarity often arrives not in the moment of decision, but in the quiet steps just before it. For me, Stage 3 of my personal transformation – Preparation/Determination – wasn’t a single lightbulb moment. It was a series of illuminating sparks that gradually lit the path ahead. This phase is often skipped over in the rush from “thinking” to “doing,” but it’s where dreams stretch their limbs and take form. My journey through the final stages of my trip through the USA and Canada became a living blueprint of transformation—testing ideas, seeking inspiration, and deciding how to reshape my life with intention.
Creative Sparks and Life Lived Fully
After my soul-soothing retreat into the wilds of Canada and a heartfelt reunion with my childhood bestie, I headed to San Luis Obispo with a light heart and an open mind. “Que sera, sera,” I thought as the Californian sun wrapped me in warmth.
I was there to stay with the remarkable Sky Bergman, a powerhouse of creativity and generosity, who welcomed me into her world of photography, storytelling, and meaningful connection. We had only met online—through our mutual interest in intergenerational projects—but here I was, in her vibrant granny flat, surrounded by eclectic books, quirky art, and infectious inspiration.
On my very first evening, I found myself at a potluck-and-house-concert (yes, how California is that?), chatting with strangers who felt like long-lost friends. The homemade pizza, twinkling fairy lights, Spanish-style home, and hauntingly beautiful jazz—everything felt cinematic. I remember sitting in the garden under a string of lights thinking, “This is what life is supposed to feel like.”
Sky wasn’t just a professor of photography; she was a filmmaker, an advocate for ageing with purpose, and someone who had seamlessly blended her professional work with her passions. Watching her in action—editing footage, heading out on a shoot for her latest film, sharing powerful human stories—I realised I had boxed myself in with unnecessary limitations. If she could live such a rich, purpose-driven life, why couldn’t I?
Our late-night conversations about France (her partner is a Francophile too!) lit a fire in me. I’d always dreamed of returning there, but suddenly it didn’t feel like a fantasy anymore. It felt doable. The vague five-year plan my husband and I had to move to France suddenly snapped into sharper focus. Why wait?
Passion Rooted in Simplicity
My next stop was Lexington in Kentucky, which may not have the allure of New York or the glamour of L.A., but it holds a special place in my heart. It’s where an old friend—who once worked in a welcoming Parisian restaurant with my husband—had built a life and a business. His French bistro, Le Deauville, is a slice of Paris in the American South, complete with “all-you-can-eat mussels” on Tuesdays.
We hadn’t seen each other in decades, but the laughter flowed as if no time had passed. He shared stories of his early days in New York’s high-stress restaurant scene, his decision to pivot, and how finding balance led him to happiness. This visit was a reminder that success doesn’t always come from climbing higher. Sometimes, it’s about planting roots and choosing passion over prestige.
Coming Full Circle Through Dance
The final stop of my journey brought me back to the dance studio—literally. I was in Brooklyn to attend an Advanced Teacher Training Workshop in Dance for Parkinson’s at the legendary Mark Morris Dance Center.
It felt poetic: starting my career as a dancer, detouring through academia, and now circling back to movement, this time with deeper meaning. The workshop, led by the inspiring David Leventhal, was packed with dance teachers from around the world, each with a unique story and shared purpose—using dance to uplift and heal.
Between choreography and connection, laughter and learning, I rediscovered something I didn’t realise I’d lost: joy. Pure, unfiltered, moving joy.
Evenings were spent with a small group of fabulous women I’d just met, yet it felt like we’d known each other for years. Our conversations drifted from teaching strategies to relationships, to dreams and fears, and everything in between. These women were living their truth, creating spaces where others could move, express, and connect—exactly what I longed to do more of.
The Realisation: Passion Is the Plan
Somewhere between Sky’s soulful storytelling, mussels in Kentucky, and dancing in Brooklyn, the pieces of my future began to slot into place. I didn’t just want to study connection through creativity—I wanted to create it. I no longer needed more research to prove its value. I had already witnessed it and now I had lived it.
So, I set myself a goal to redefine my future. When I returned to Brisbane, I would leave my job, change my direction, and commit to creating opportunities for others to connect through art, dance, and storytelling. It wasn’t a rash move—it was carefully prepared. Every stop along my journey had served a purpose, whispering, “This is who you are. This is where you’re going.”
Preparation as Practice
This stage wasn’t just about planning; it was about believing in the possibility of change. I tested new ways of living, observed people already doing what I thought was “impossible,” and slowly let go of old definitions of success.
If the Contemplation stage was the dreaming, Preparation was the drafting of a life worth living. I gathered the tools, connected with kindred spirits, and planted the first seeds of the life I was ready to build.
And by the time I boarded the plane back home, my heart was full—and my mind was made up.