17/09/2026
I’ve been a little quiet online for the past few weeks, as I was lucky enough to travel to the United States and visit some incredible places, including Yosemite National Park.
Interestingly, the trip challenged and changed me in ways I wasn’t expecting.
There were the obvious physical challenges. Climbing Lembert Dome at over 2,800 metres elevation, every step felt harder and every breath more deliberate.
But it wasn’t the physical challenge that stayed with me most.
It was the overwhelming sense of awe.
Standing on vast granite domes, looking across mountain ranges that stretched further than I could comprehend, I experienced something that reminded me of the “Overview Effect” astronauts often describe - that profound shift in perspective that comes from suddenly seeing humanity, life and yourself in a much larger context.
As a psychologist, I’m fascinated by how our minds construct the world around us. Standing in Yosemite, surrounded by landscapes carved over millions of years, I felt my usual frame of reference begin to dissolve.
The giant sequoias were perhaps the most powerful reminder. Some of these extraordinary trees have stood for nearly 3,000 years. They were already ancient when the Roman Empire was young. They have witnessed countless generations come and go, surviving fires, storms and centuries of change.
Beside them, my worries seemed remarkably small.
Walking alongside crystal-clear rivers, through forests and beneath towering mountains and rock faces, I was struck by the beauty of something that exists completely independently of us. Nature doesn’t need our approval, our plans or our timelines. It simply continues.
And strangely, there was something deeply comforting about that.
In our busy lives, it’s easy to feel like everything is urgent. Every problem feels significant. Every decision feels monumental.
Spending time in a place of such immense scale and age reminded me that while our lives matter deeply, we are also just one small part of a much larger story.
I came home with tired legs, stories of adventure and a phone full of beautiful photos.
But I also came home with a renewed sense of perspective.
Sometimes the greatest gift of travel isn’t seeing somewhere new.
It’s seeing yourself - and the world - differently. ❤️