Living this nomadic life has taught me to hold plans very loosely.
Some mornings, I have a place in mind. And then, somewhere along the way, I see something else. A little distraction. A different street. A place I haven’t planned on. And suddenly the original plan doesn’t matter anymore.
So I follow the new idea.
That may sound like a very small thing. It is. And somehow it’s not.
Because every once in a while, in the middle of these ordinary mornings, I’m reminded of just how much freedom there is in my life right now.
I can change my mind.
I can turn down a different street. I can sit on a little plastic stool or duck into a café I’ve never heard of. I can decide that the coffee I thought I wanted isn’t actually the coffee I want anymore.
There’s no schedule waiting for me around the corner. No one wondering why I’m late. No obligation to explain why I suddenly changed direction.
Just me, a city, and a morning that can become something different simply because I decide it can.
And when I actually stop to acknowledge that, gratitude washes over me.
Not the grand, dramatic kind of gratitude. Something quieter.
The kind that makes me look down at the coffee in my hand and think: Wow. I get to do this. 🥹
I get to wander around Saigon and discover things. I get to make arbitrary decisions about where to drink coffee. I get to follow curiosity instead of an itinerary.
And somehow, once I notice that, the coffee tastes even better.
Maybe that’s what these coffee mornings are really about.
Not finding the best coffee.
Not even finding the café I set out to find.
Sometimes the best part is realizing that I’m free to change my mind. And that the unexpected place I end up may be exactly where I was supposed to be all along. 🙇♀️
August 2026