I thought about beginning this with “Still alive!”, but that wouldn’t really begin to cover it.
Freedom is what I have hoped to get out of this trip; it’s why I am doing this on my own. For me, how I show up in the world and the expectations that tag along have been as much a detriment as they have been a blessing. Every hour of therapy I’ve done has been in pursuit of letting go a little, stepping back a little, and loving myself a lot. Not one of these things comes naturally, and so besides sunshine (obviously), this trip I am seeking the full-circle-gap-closure on freedom from every ugly “not enough” thought I have .
So off we go.
Things I would recommend prior to departure:
- a Grey’s style dance-it-out party all. day. long.
- a big cry with Mama Q (triggered by “Baby Mine” from the movie Dumbo)
There are no Seinfeld-style air-travel jokes, but I will say that red-eye is the way to go for long hauls. No misadventures save for a last-second flight booking outbound to Sydney to ensure Indonesia would let me into the country in the first place. What do you mean I can’t stay forever?
Because based on the first 2 days, I think I just might. Our last-minute-emergency-booked homestay is brand new, which offers its drawbacks (no shelves or storage besides a bedside table which, although has a lock, has an open top when you open the drawer, #engineering) and benefits (clean and serene). Canguu is a surfer’s paradise, and the speed of life here slows even my most busy heart. (Caveat: the roads are narrow and scooter traffic is anything but slow; my little trio is playing a game where the first one to get hit by one loses and has to buy lunch. Score is zero so far, stay tuned.)
But for the first time in my life, I have nowhere to be. I woke up with the sun, because that’s when the roosters crow and I ran to the beach because I felt like it. We practiced yoga beside our pool and explored the streets and markets. There are smoothie bowls at every restaurant. Every. One. The people are beautiful and kind, the culture is vibrant and palpable. Everyone I have met so far comes with their own purpose and struggle.
We walk around in awe, my face hurts from smiling. I think at any moment, my heart might explode and shoot sparkles and fireworks all over everything. I watched the sunset at Echo Beach with my newest partner in crime, Catlin and told her how lucky I feel to be here. She disagreed: “It wasn’t luck. We did this. We made this”. And she was absolutely right.
Tomorrow begins the 200 hour journey of Blissology yoga teacher training. I have butterflies. And there is a tiny voice saying “You’re not ready. You’re scared. You’re not enough”. But the tiny voice is tinier than when I got here. So that’s progress already.