Untethering in Progress …

My birthday is tomorrow. Here's what I actually want this year.

I turn another year older on May 20th.

And somewhere between the cake and the well-wishes, I've been sitting with a question I ask myself every year around this time: Am I living the way I want to be living?

This year, the answer is: getting there.

Which feels more honest than it ever has before.

The part I don't usually say out loud

I spent years building things. Startups. Teams. Systems. A reputation for being the person who showed up, quietly figured it out, and kept going. I wore that identity like a badge - and I didn't realize how much it was costing me until I got on a ship.

I remember the massage therapist on my first cruise (the Mediterranean - highly recommend!) looking at me like I was a case study. "You have more knots in your neck and shoulders than any human should ever have," she said, with the kind of diplomatic understatement that only someone who massages strangers for a living can pull off. I was several days into what was supposed to be a vacation, and my body still hadn't gotten the memo.

It took seven full days - seven - before I stopped mentally composing emails I couldn't send. Before I stopped waking up at 5am already problem-solving. Before I stopped worrying about how my team was doing. Before I stopped feeling guilty for sitting on a balcony doing absolutely nothing. Before I could fully experience the beautiful ports we were visiting.

And then something shifted. By day eight or nine, I was a different person. Not “fixed.” Not transformed. Just ... quieter. More myself. Present in a way I hadn't been in years.

I came home and ultimately built a business around helping other people find that.

What I didn't fully understand is that I would still be finding it myself.

What "untethering in progress" actually looks like

Here's my list. The real one. Not the aspirational version - the one I'm actually, imperfectly, working on.

Less TV. More time outside. I've been hiking more. Getting my feet in the grass at the end of a trail and just ... laying there. Grounding myself. It sounds small. It isn't.

Tai chi. I started because I wanted to feel more calm and present. I kept going because it's the only 30 minutes of my day where my brain genuinely has to be in my body, not three conversations ahead.

Putting the phone down earlier. Not perfectly. Not every night. But more nights than before. I've started leaving it in another room while I sleep, and I'm not exaggerating when I say it changed how I wake up.

Taking Friday afternoons. A few hours. Not always, but as often as I can protect it. No meetings. No output. Just space and time for me. I used to feel guilty about this. I'm getting better at not.

Less recording. More being there. This one is hard. But I've started choosing to just be somewhere instead of documenting that I was there. The photos I don't take are becoming some of my favorite memories.

Picking up a book instead of a phone. I'm not always successful. But I'm reading more than I was a year ago, and my nervous system notices the difference.

Using DND. Actually using it. One hour at a time. Sometimes two. The world does not end. I keep being surprised by this.

Saying no to bad-fit opportunities. To things I'm only considering because everyone else is doing them. To the kind of busy that looks productive but isn't.

Planning more short escapes - and actually being present for them. Not just booking them. Not just getting there and immediately thinking about getting back. Not just capturing them for social media (see above!) Soaking in different cultures, and enjoying new foods, and understanding that the world is big, and unique, and beautiful. Being there.

Daydreaming. Not excessively - because we just talked about how important being present is. But I give myself a little time before bed to let my mind wander. Dream about my next trip. Picture myself in a place I’ve never been. Because while I can’t be somewhere new all the time, It’s great way to boost positive emotions and give my brain a little break. Just like actually getting away does. (Plus I think it makes me a better travel planner for you!)

None of this is finished. I have to gently remind myself to start over. A lot. Some weeks I do better than others. Some weeks I look up on a Thursday afternoon and realize I haven't done a single one of these things and I've been running on fumes since Monday.

That's the part nobody talks about. Untethering isn't a destination. It's a practice.

What I want for my birthday

Here's the ask - and I mean it genuinely, not as a marketing exercise.

I'm launching something I'm calling Untethering in Progress. Not a program. Not a course. Just a running conversation - in this blog, in our stories, in the occasional email - about what it actually looks like to choose presence over productivity. To practice disconnecting before you're forced to. To take care of yourself before you genuinely have no choice.

Over the next few months, I'm going to share prompts. Small ones. Things I'm trying, things that have helped, things that failed spectacularly. I'll share updates on my own progress - the good weeks and the backslide weeks.

And I'd love for you to do it alongside me.

Not because I have it figured out. Clearly, I don't. But because I think there's something powerful about a community of people who are all just ... trying. Imperfectly. With grace toward themselves.

If this resonates - if you read "it took me seven days to stop composing emails I couldn't send" and thought oh, that's me - then this is for you.

Follow along. Share what you're working on. Tell me when something lands.

And if you've been thinking about what it would feel like to actually untether - on a ship, in a new port, with nothing on your calendar but the horizon - you know where to find us.

Happy almost-birthday to me. 🎂

Here's to untethering in progress.

— Wendy

Want to follow along? The Untethering in Progress prompts will live in our Instagram stories. Follow @cruiseuntetheredvoyages and keep an eye out — we'll be dropping small, practical invitations to practice presence. No perfection required.