Travel Heals Everything

Leadership Lessons from Alaska

Sometimes, stepping away is the best thing you can do.

This week, as I stood on the deck of a ship in Alaska watching a humpback whale disappear into the sea, I felt something I hadn’t felt in months: stillness. A reminder that the world is vast, that life keeps moving, and that healing doesn’t come in one moment — it comes little by little, like ice melting into the ocean.

A friend once shared with me something that has stayed close to my heart. When her husband received six months of fully paid disability, he told her, “I’m going to enjoy this time.” But his battle with cancer only lasted twenty days.

When I told her recently that I finally had time to pause, to breathe, to look for my next step, she said: “Take the opportunity my husband never could.”

That conversation reframed everything for me. Many people tell me: “You’re so lucky to travel, to see the world.” But this “luck” is built on years of hard work, sacrifices, and showing up even when life was heavy. Balance is required, time off is necessary — but it’s not just luck. It’s the reflection of giving the best of yourself, year after year.

And in Alaska, between the glaciers, the floating ice, and the silence of the fjords, I was reminded of a leadership truth too.

And then, in Yukon, watching a bear move steadily through the forest, I learned another one: leadership isn’t always loud or fast. Sometimes it’s presence — the quiet, grounded strength to keep moving forward, step by step, no matter what.

What Travel Reminds Me About Leadership

Stillness matters. The glacier doesn’t move fast, yet it shapes everything around it. As leaders, rushing isn’t always progress — sometimes stillness is strength.
Adaptability is survival. Icebergs crack and reshape with every tide. Teams, like leaders, must adapt when plans break.
Perspective is everything. From the deck, an iceberg looked massive. Zoomed out, it was just one part of a greater landscape. Leadership, too, requires stepping back to see the whole picture.
Distance heals. Just as travel brings clarity, leadership requires space — stepping back from silos, battles, and noise so you can return grounded.
Presence is power. The bear didn’t rush, didn’t roar — it simply moved forward. Sometimes, the most powerful leadership is calm, steady presence.

Travel doesn’t make pain disappear, but it transforms it.
Leadership doesn’t prevent chaos, but it shapes how we walk through it.

This journey has reminded me: healing and leading both demand perspective, patience, and presence.

If you’ve ever found yourself healed or transformed by travel, I’d love to hear: What place gave you clarity when you needed it most?

Lo que me recuerda viajar sobre el liderazgo:
La quietud importa. El glaciar no se mueve rápido, pero transforma todo a su alrededor. Liderar no siempre es correr, a veces la quietud es fuerza.
La adaptación es supervivencia. Los icebergs se quiebran y se transforman con cada marea. Los equipos, como los líderes, deben adaptarse cuando los planes se rompen.
La perspectiva lo es todo. Desde la cubierta, un iceberg parecía enorme. Al alejarme, era solo una parte del paisaje. Liderar también exige alejarse para ver el panorama completo.
La distancia sana. Así como viajar da claridad, liderar requiere espacio — alejarse del ruido para volver con calma.
La presencia es poder. El oso no corrió, no rugió — simplemente avanzó. A veces, el liderazgo más fuerte es el que se ejerce con calma y firmeza.