From Omaha to Waikiki: Why Travel Feeds My Soul (and My Sanity)
Lahaina, Maui
There’s something about stepping off a plane and into the warm, salty air of Hawaii that hits you like a reset button. The kind of reset that clears the noise and lets you breathe a little deeper. For the past two years, Chris and I have made that journey from the middle of the country to the middle of the Pacific—and I swear, each time, it changes me a little.
The first time we went, we stayed in Waikiki. It was everything we hoped it would be—sun, sand, just enough hustle to keep things interesting. We spent our days walking along Kalakaua Avenue, stopping into shops, grabbing cold drinks, and watching the world go by. It’s a place that buzzes with energy but never feels overwhelming. At night, the tiki torches light the sidewalks and the ocean reflects the city lights—it’s a kind of magic that stays with you.
Makena Beach, Maui
That trip also included something we’d always wanted to do: visit Maui. We booked a day trip, flew over early in the morning, and rented a car. From the moment we pulled out of the airport, we knew we were in for something special. The Road to Hana is a winding, jaw-dropping stretch of highway that feels like it belongs in a dream. Around every curve was something new—a hidden waterfall, a stretch of jungle, roadside fruit stands selling the sweetest bananas and coconut candy we’ve ever had. We stopped at the black sand beach and just stood there, taking it all in. It felt like we’d stepped into another world.
Later that day, we walked through the town of Lahaina. It was bright and breezy, full of history and color. We wandered the streets, popped into a few art galleries, and had lunch by the water. It was peaceful, beautiful, and felt like one of those moments you know you’ll hold onto. When the fires happened not long after, our hearts broke. Seeing images of the devastation was surreal—just weeks before, we had been walking those streets, feeling the heartbeat of that town. We’ll always be grateful we got to experience Lahaina when we did, and it will forever hold a place in our hearts.
Waikiki
The next year, we went back—but this time, we didn’t chase anything. We stayed in Waikiki again and let the trip unfold without a schedule. We sat by the pool, floated in the ocean, and walked for hours through the city. There’s something really powerful in slowing down—letting go of the need to do and just letting yourself be. That trip wasn’t about crossing things off a list. It was about presence. About sitting in silence and watching the sun disappear into the horizon without needing to say anything at all.
Travel, for me, is more than vacation. It’s therapy. It’s the space between everything—between deadlines and routines, responsibilities and expectations. It’s where I can let the world fall away and just exist, side by side with the person I love most. It doesn’t matter how many times we’ve been or how much we’ve seen—Hawaii always has a new way of showing up for us.
There’s a rhythm to life on the islands that you don’t really understand until you’re in it. It’s slower, more intentional. Even the air feels different—like it’s telling you to take your time. And maybe that’s what keeps calling us back. The permission to pause. To breathe. To come back to ourselves.
We’re heading back soon, and I can already feel the shift happening. The anticipation. The mental unpacking of everyday life as I start thinking about blue water, quiet mornings, and sunset walks. I don’t know what this trip will hold—and that’s the beauty of it. Hawaii has a way of giving you exactly what you didn’t know you needed.