Burnt toast theory states that minor inconveniences can turn out to be blessings in disguise, and today highlighted this for us.
This morning we started with a much more than minor inconvenience when we arrived to breakfast to find out that it was too windy to go whale watching. This was a bucket list item for almost every one of us, and when it was confirmed that we couldn’t go and that it couldn’t be rescheduled, there were actual tears for some of us. It felt like a major loss.
We pivoted like we have had to do several times on this trip, and went on a bird walk before heading to the beach instead. During our walk I kept waiting for something fun and magical to confirm that missing whales was worth it. And I couldn’t see it. Then we walked down to the beach, put our toes in the sand, collected shells, and tiptoed into the icy Indian Ocean.
Something we’ve noticed about this trip is that we are being required to slow down. Fast food isn’t what we’re used to. Chick-fil-A gets your meal to you with a “my pleasure” in less than 5 minutes. That’s not happening here, as it takes closer to 20. Restaurant service is even longer, and meals come 2-3 at a time. We find ourselves being impatient, trying to speed up processes. Then we talk about it with each other and realize how much we actually ENJOY slowing down. We ask ourselves what it would be like if we stopped rushing when we get home and if we didn’t put so much pressure on ourselves and each other.
Our time is quickly coming to an end and we are all feeling excited to see our families and homes. We are also feeling the pressure of life that awaits us. How can we find the balance of the calm we’ve found here with all that comes with returning home? We’ve watched South African sunrises and sunsets, taken long morning walks with giraffes and coffee, shared dinner with rhinos, and made memories with new friends. We have seen and felt so much here: joy, astonishment, love, fullness, and more that we can’t wait to take back to our families. When we go home we will be spread across the state, hours apart, no longer in dorm style bedrooms, sharing bathrooms and group dinners. We have met people who will now be our best friends, and now we will be apart.
Tonight’s sunset happened in the company of a hippo family. I think we can learn something about how to approach going home from them:
“Hippos, despite their size, offer subtle yet powerful lessons on embracing imperfection, finding peace in stillness, and maintaining healthy social bonds”.
Three lessons were impressed upon us as we watched these graceful animals:
- Embrace the mud and find comfort in imperfection. Hippos spend much of their time in mud, which represents the messy, imperfect parts of life.
- Submerge yourself and find peace in stillness. Hippos are comfortable both in and out of the water, symbolizing the importance of finding moments of peace and quiet in our busy lives.
- Know your people and make time with them. Celebrate and protect each other.
Our guides and drivers, Andrew and David, are leaving in the morning. Tonight we spent time reflecting on our highlights with each of them. At the end of the night Andrew said, “magic has happened here.” Each day in South Africa has been magic. We have been so blessed. We didn’t get to see whales today on the boat. But, we got to spend precious time slowing down together. Laughing, eating delicious food, and celebrating each other. We have just a few more days left before we get to bring this magic home. We can’t wait to slow down and share the sunrises and sunsets with you.
1 COMMENT
Jacqueline King
20 hours ago
I felt this post in my soul. As a big believer in the burnt toast theory myself, I can’t even count how many times I’ve been “delayed” by something small, burning toast, forgetting keys, hitting every red light, or late staff showing up to relieve my shift only to realize later those moments may have protected me or redirected me toward something better. One of my most personal reminders of this was on my wedding day. My bridesmaid had accidentally left her dress in her husband’s car, at a military base, no less. The wedding ended up starting an hour late. The event planner was absolutely livid. But I wasn’t. I’ve always believed things happen for a reason, and I held onto that. Sure enough, at the end of the night, it was just my husband, the DJ, and me outside. We were slow dancing and when we turned to look back at the horse stable and horses, we saw a huge shooting star cross the sky. It was peaceful, magical, and completely ours. If the wedding had ran on time, we would’ve missed that moment. We will never forget it.
That’s exactly what your story reminded me of. I’m so sorry you missed the whale watching, especially with how much everyone was looking forward to it. But the way you described what followed, it feels like the kind of magic that only shows up when things don’t go as planned. Cartwheels in the sand, stillness by the ocean, and a sunset shared with hippos? That’s not a loss, that’s something sacred.
Reflecting on slowing down really hit me, too. We do move so fast in our daily lives that we often forget what it’s like to be present. I loved how you tied this into the culture you’re immersed in, where meals are slower, conversations deeper, and time feels like it stretches to make room for connection. It’s not just a trip, it sounds like a complete reset. The posted photos are absolutely stunning! You’ve captured more than just beautiful landscapes. You’ve captured culture, community, emotion, and in between moments that matter most. Every image tells a story.
Thank you for sharing your journey. I hope that as you all head home, you carry this calm with you and continue to embrace those “burnt toast” moments. They always seem to lead us somewhere meaningful whether it’s a shooting star or a quiet beach full of unexpected joy.