The Yoga Retreat I Didn't Take, and the One I Might

By Elaine Shetler-Libent, KW Luxury International Real Estate, Relocation Specialist

In the year 2000, I was working in the UK, and on weekends our project team would travel throughout Europe. While searching the internet for a weekend destination, a yoga retreat in Sardinia caught my eye.

I'd love to say I remember every detail of that moment, but honestly, I don't. What I do remember is the feeling. That little internal yes that shows up before your brain has even caught up to ask questions like, "I'm not a yogi," or, "Where is Sardinia?" My gut said go. Life said, not this time.

I didn't go. My project team didn't want to make the trip to Sardinia. The specifics have faded into that generic haze of "the timing wasn't right," which is what we all say when we really mean, "I chose something else, and I'm still not totally sure it was the right choice."

Here's the strange part. That was 25 years ago. A quarter of a century. I've had entire careers, relationships, homes, and even body shapes come and go since then. And yet, say the word "Sardinia" to me—anytime, anywhere—and something in my chest still does this little flip. A friend mentions it. I see it on a map. It shows up in a random Instagram reel at 11 p.m. Every single time, without exception, something in me sits up and pays attention.

That's not nostalgia. Nostalgia fades. This didn't. This is something else—the feeling that comes when you say no to an opportunity that was actually meant for you, and some part of you never fully accepts the answer.

The Bucket List Item That Wouldn't Behave

I've made peace with a lot of "what ifs" over the years. Most of them settle down eventually. You make the decision, you grieve the road not taken for a reasonable amount of time, and then it finds its place on the shelf with the rest of your memories, dusty but quiet.

Sardinia never did that. It simply sat there on my bucket list, quietly humming for two and a half decades. Not urgent. Not dramatic. Just... present. Like a friend who doesn't call very often, but somehow you never lose touch with.

I think some dreams are like that. They don't demand your attention. They simply wait. And they have this odd patience about them, almost as if they know something you don't.

And Then, Out of Nowhere

A little while ago, I was scrolling through my emails. The James Edition always features incredible real estate opportunities, and that day I came across a new article about Sardinia.

I clicked the link, smiled at the photos, and wondered.

I mean, I actually stopped. Thumb frozen mid-swipe. That old feeling from 2000 came roaring back as though it had never left, as though it had simply been waiting in a back room for 25 years for me to open the door again.

[This is the dreamer's stop for Sardinia.]

Yes, I'm in a different place in life now, but for a moment I found myself dreaming about Sardinia again, 25 years later.

And there it was.

What It Actually Feels Like

I want to be honest about the mix of emotions here because it wasn't just simple joy. It was joy, yes, but it also carried a little grief. A little bit of "Why haven't I made it a point to go yet?" mixed with, "Wait... could we go in 2027? Or even 2037?"

Underneath it all was this quiet disbelief that the thing I've thought about on and off for half my adult life might not have been a lost opportunity after all. Maybe it was simply a delayed one.

The Sardinia dream has quietly found its way back onto my goal radar. This time, it sits a little higher on the list. There's a particular kind of emotional whiplash that comes from realizing a door you assumed was permanently closed was actually just... waiting for you to knock again. I keep asking myself: Is this the universe's version of a callback? Or am I simply someone who's really good at romanticizing missed chances, dressing up coincidence as meaning?

Maybe it's both. Maybe it doesn't matter.

What I've Learned About Bucket Lists

Here's the thing about bucket lists that nobody tells you. We treat them like checklists. Go here. Do that. Cross it off. Move on.

But the dreams that truly matter, the ones that stay with you for decades without losing their spark, aren't really about the destination at all. They're about a version of yourself you once said no to—and have quietly hoped to meet again.

That yoga retreat in 2000 wasn't really about Sardinia. It was about a version of me who wanted to slow down, breathe deeply, and feel the ground beneath her feet somewhere far from home—somewhere ancient, sun-warmed, and completely unbothered by deadlines.

I said no to her.

She never really left.

I think that's why this new opportunity stopped me in my tracks. It's not just another trip.

It's a chance to finally say yes to her. Timing gets a bad reputation. We blame it for everything we didn't do. But I'm beginning to think timing isn't always the villain in the story. Sometimes it's simply patient. Sometimes the thing you're meant to experience is waiting for the version of you who's finally ready to receive it—and it doesn't care how long that takes.

Twenty-five years is a long time to wait for anything.

But some dreams don't expire.

They simply wait for you to find your way back.

I don't know exactly what I'm going to do with this yet.

But I do know one thing.

I'm not scrolling past it this time.

Elaine Shetler-Libent, KW Luxury International

Elaine@LandLuxuryPro.com | +1 724-681-0412

[If you're curious about the James Edition article that sent me down the Sardinia rabbit hole... here's the link.]