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I Spent the First Few Months of My 30s in Europe—This Is What Actually Stayed With Me

  • Writer: Ryan Garcia
    Ryan Garcia
  • Mar 30
  • 3 min read
Cup and glass pot of coffee on a turquoise table, labeled "Caffè Sansone." Background shows a narrow, sunlit street with buildings.
Morning at Caffè Sansone in Naples. One of those small, everyday moments that ended up meaning the most.

When I came back from spending a few months in Europe, I didn’t return with a long list of things I wanted to change. There wasn’t some dramatic reset or perfectly mapped-out plan waiting for me on the other side of it. What I came back with was quieter than that—a shift in how I think about my time, my work, and the way I move through my day.


For most of my adult life, work wasn’t just something I did—it was something I was. My schedule, my energy, and even how I saw myself were tied to it. I didn’t really question it at the time. It just felt normal to be fully immersed in it. But stepping away from that—physically and mentally—created some distance, and in that distance, I started to see things a little differently.


One of the biggest changes I’ve carried with me is this: I don’t want my work to be my identity anymore. I still care deeply about what I do, and I’m building something that matters to me, but it’s no longer the center of everything. I want work to support my life—not the other way around. And sometimes that means making different choices than I would have before. Being more intentional with how I spend money, how I structure my time, and what I prioritize day to day. It’s not always perfect, but it feels a lot more aligned.


That shift started to show up in smaller ways, too—especially in how I begin my mornings. In Naples, I found myself returning to the same coffee shop, Caffè Sansone, not because it was the most convenient option, but because it felt like a moment worth having. I’d stand at the counter, have an espresso, maybe a cornetto, exchange a few words, and then move on with my day. It took no more time than going through a drive-thru back home, but it felt completely different.


That’s something I’ve tried to hold onto. Slowing down just enough to make small parts of my day feel intentional instead of automatic. Making coffee at home and actually sitting down to drink it. Choosing a local spot over whatever’s fastest. Letting the start of my day feel like something I enjoy, not something I rush through.


I’ve also gotten a lot more comfortable being on my own. At the beginning of my trip, that wasn’t easy. Sitting down at a table alone or spending a full day without plans felt a little uncomfortable at first, like I should be doing something more or being somewhere else. But over time, that shifted. Now it’s something I genuinely enjoy—grabbing lunch alone, sitting at a coffee shop with my laptop or a book, taking that time without feeling like I need to fill it. There’s something grounding about being comfortable in your own company, and it’s something I didn’t realize I was missing.


More than anything, what I brought home from that time is an awareness of how easy it is to move through life without really noticing it. To default to convenience, to rush through routines, to structure everything around productivity. And how small shifts—slowing down your morning, being more intentional with your time, creating space for yourself—can change how your day actually feels. Not in a big, dramatic way, but in a way that adds up over time.


I didn’t come back to a completely different life, but I did come back approaching it differently. More aware of how I spend my time, what I give my energy to, and what actually makes my day feel good—not just productive.


It’s a big part of how I think about travel now, too. Not just where you go, but how you want your days to feel while you’re there.

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