🎧 SONG
📖 STORY
In 2024, life slowed down in a way I never expected.
My mother was diagnosed with cancer at the age of 72. When the first prognosis arrived, the doctors gave her only ninety days. Instead, thanks to the care she received and the determination she showed every day, she lived for another year.
It was a year filled with uncertainty.
Living in Amsterdam while my family was in Italy meant that every month I would take a flight home, trying to help wherever I could. Some days were surprisingly beautiful. My mother would laugh, enjoy a meal, talk about the future and almost make us forget the diagnosis.
Other days were much harder.
Watching someone you love go through those ups and downs leaves a mark on you. Even when you do everything you can, there is a sense of helplessness that quietly stays in the background.
By the time I decided to travel to Dahab, I wasn’t looking for adventure.
I was looking for space.
An Egyptian friend in Amsterdam had told me about a small town on the Red Sea, surrounded by mountains, desert and sea. I booked two weeks and went alone.
I arrived carrying more than luggage.
I carried months of hospitals, flights, worries and emotions that I hadn’t fully processed.
What I found was simplicity.
Mornings started by the sea. Some days I trained at a small gym overlooking the water. Other days I practiced yoga in the mountains or wandered through the desert landscapes surrounding the town.
One morning, before sunrise, I climbed Mount Moses. Walking through the darkness, step by step, with nothing but silence around me, I felt something I had not felt for a long time.
Calm.
There were evenings spent with Bedouin families under the stars, sharing food and stories. There were hours spent alone by the sea, watching the mountains change color as the light slowly faded behind the horizon.
What made Dahab special was not what I did.
It was what I stopped doing.
For the first time in months, I wasn’t trying to solve problems.
I wasn’t planning the next flight.
I wasn’t thinking about hospital appointments.
I wasn’t trying to be strong for anyone.
I was simply present.
Those two weeks did not change my life overnight.
They didn’t erase the difficult year that had come before.
But they gave me something I desperately needed:
a moment to breathe.
This collection is inspired by that feeling.
A reminder that sometimes the most important journeys are not the ones that take us somewhere new, but the ones that help us return to ourselves.
❤️ CAUSE
🌍 CONTRIBUTION
