Following the Pull to San Clemente
San Clemente Sept.1, 2025
An honest reflection on intuitive nudges, solo days, and the difference between magic and reality.
I’m not sure exactly when it started, but for the last few weeks, I’ve felt this quiet draw to San Clemente. A city I’ve barely spent time in, with no particular memories tied to it, and yet it kept nudging me. A whisper, not a shout. I kept hearing the name. Eventually, I wrote "San Clemente" down as a quiet sign, a sort of spiritual password between me and God. Something simple and personal, like a wink from the divine if it ever showed up again.
Not long after, someone said it to me out of nowhere. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but it felt like another nudge to follow the pull.
So on Labor Day, I decided to go. No expectations. No plan. Just me, the road, and a quiet willingness to follow the pull.
I drove up from Carlsbad and landed at Bear Coast Coffee, a cute local coffee spot just a stone's throw from the beach. I sat near the ocean, ate avocado toast, and watched people come and go with their sand dusted feet and salty hair. I walked the pier. I journaled on the beach. I let the day unfold however it wanted to.
And then it got hot. Like, really hot. I started walking toward my car and noticed the trolley stop along the way. The trolley was free and just arriving, so I decided to hop on, not knowing where I was going but ready for an adventure. I stopped in shops, got a refreshing juice, and wandered without a plan. At one point, I stepped into a crystal store and immediately felt drawn to the rows of mala beads.
And just then, a memory hit me.
I had just gotten out of a relationship that began with so much intentionality, so much spiritual alignment and care. One of the first things I ever received was a handmade mala necklace, gifted with such presence and meaning. It felt like a reflection of who he was, someone kind, grounded, and deeply thoughtful. Seeing those beads that day brought up a quiet ache.
Because how do you go from that to what we became?
How does something that once felt so aligned slowly shift into something that makes you question yourself, your choices, or whether the way you were showing up was ever really enough?
I found myself sitting with the discomfort of that question. Not spiraling. Not regretting. Just sitting. Wondering what part I had played in the unraveling. Wondering if I could’ve done things differently. Wondering how to hold the beauty of the beginning and the truth of the end at the same time.
As I walked around San Clemente, I also noticed the absence of a sign. I didn’t have some huge "aha" moment. I didn’t feel overwhelming peace or clarity. I just liked it. The people were kind. The town was cute. But it wasn’t magic. And honestly, that felt confusing at first.
I think part of me hoped I’d walk away with a knowing. A quiet certainty that said, "Yes, this is your next step. Move here. Start fresh." But instead, I left with something gentler. A sense of permission to keep exploring. To date a place before I commit. To try a yoga class on my way home from work or grab dinner by myself and see how it feels. To stay open without needing to be certain.
And maybe that’s the bigger lesson here.
Not every pull leads to a life changing shift. Not every intuitive nudge has to end in a decision. Sometimes it’s simply a whisper saying, "Spend time with yourself. You’re safe here."
So that’s what I did. I spent the day with myself. I felt my memories. I sat in the sun. I let the ache breathe. And when I left, I wasn’t sure what it all meant, but I knew I was okay.
And maybe, for today, that’s enough. 🤍
Still growing, still glowing,
Courtney
💬 If you’ve ever followed a quiet nudge or returned to a place tied to a memory, I’d love to hear about it. Leave a comment below or send me a DM on Instagram. Your stories inspire me more than you know.
