Sojourn is a weekly letter by Ana Carini for those navigating personal and professional reinvention—from the inside out. Through storytelling, tools, and prompts, it offers a compass for the journey inward. Every Sunday.
For more updates—follow at @sojournletter
You’ve seen the world. Now it’s time to return to yourself.
A sojourn is a temporary stay—a pause between where you’ve been and where you’re going. But here, it means something more.
Sojourn is a space to reflect, realign, and return to yourself. A new chapter where reinvention begins—not with speed, but with intention. Where transformation happens slowly, like tea steeping in silence.
Not by becoming someone new, but by remembering who you are. It’s a weekly invitation to step out of default mode and into slow time.
To listen inward. To ask better questions. To make meaning of where you are.
A space to reset before stepping into what’s next. To move at the pace of truth, not trends.
Sojourn is for the ones in transition. The ones rewriting their work, their voice, their values—not for applause, but for alignment.
It’s for those who are no longer driven by what looks good—but by what feels true.
Who understand that the deepest changes can't be rushed.
Every Sunday, this letter is a soft landing and a thoughtful push forward.
This is your sojourn—a moment to be with yourself, fully.
After decades of building around others—through work, marriage, motherhood, and constant relocation—I found myself disconnected from my own voice.
In 2024, I stopped following the script. Started choosing what felt true. Began reclaiming what had been lost within.
Now I'm rebuilding from the inside out, (re)creating a life rooted in creative expression, conscious living, and soulful entrepreneurship—and helping others do the same.
Sojourn reflects this shift. It's for those of us building something new—a brand, a voice, a whole new version of life. Here, we reconnect with what matters: inner truth, creative freedom, and the courage to begin again.
—Ana
Read past issues of Sojourn.
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Sojourn: On beginning empty-handed, trusting the void, and the courage to start anyway
Sojourn is a Sunday letter for those reinventing with intention—a practical companion to help you pause, reset, and reshape the way you live and work from the inside out. Was this forwarded to you? Subscribe here to receive the next one directly.
Happy Sojourn Sunday!
This week: 1 quiet reflection, 1 anchoring idea, and 1 prompt to meet the moment.
1 Quiet Reflection
There's a moment before every true beginning when you realize: I have nothing figured out.
Not the five-year plan.
Not the perfect strategy.
Not even tomorrow's next step.
Just empty hands and a willingness to start anyway.
I've been there so many times.
At 21, leaving Brazil with one suitcase.
After motherhood, when my old identity no longer fit.
In late 2023, at rock bottom, when everything I'd built felt hollow.
Each time, the same pattern:
The old way stops working.
The new way hasn't appeared yet.
And there I am, suspended between what was and what might be.
We're taught to fear this space.
To fill it quickly with plans, strategies, certainties.
But what if empty hands aren't a lack?
What if they're an invitation?
This week, I'm beginning something new.
Daily writing. Daily showing up.
Not because I have it all mapped out.
But because I'm done waiting for certainty.
The truth is, every meaningful thing I've ever done started this way.
With nothing but a quiet yes.
And the courage to begin before I was ready.
1 Idea to Anchor You
In China, during a tea ceremony, my teacher said something that changed me: 'Steep the tea like you would hold a conversation. Too long, it becomes bitter. Too brief, you miss its essence.'
This is how we begin with empty hands. Not grasping. Not forcing. Just holding space for what wants to emerge. Rainer Maria Rilke wrote:
"Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage."
The dragon of the empty page. The dragon of not knowing. The dragon of starting over, again.
What if they're not obstacles but invitations? What if beginning empty-handed is the most courageous thing we can do?
In Brazil, we say: "Quem não arrisca, não petisca" — who doesn't risk, doesn't snack.
But it's deeper than risk. It's about trust.
Trusting that empty hands make room for what's meant to find you. Trusting that the void isn't empty — it's humming with potential. Trusting that you don't need the whole path lit. Just the next step. Powerful.
1 Prompt to Meet the Moment
This week, sit with your empty hands. Don't rush to fill them. Instead, ask:
What am I ready to begin, even without knowing how it ends?
Write it down. Not the plan. Not the strategy. Just the quiet yes.
Then notice: How does it feel to name what wants to begin? Sometimes acknowledgment is the first act of courage.
Want to share this Sojourn? Just copy and share this link: http://anacarini.com/sojourn/beginning-empty-handed
Until next Sunday,
Ana