Good Evening Nusa Lembongan,

Just another blond girl here reporting on the ups and downs of living in paradise…

I have been waking up before 6:30am every single morning of this holiday, sometimes even before 6am. I haven’t tried to do this. The birds wake me up. The faint rays of smoky sunlight wake me up. The subtle murmur of the first few motorbikes hugging the empty roads wake me up. The cold air from the air conditioner wakes me up.

For some reason, as the night goes on, my perception of the 23 degrees set on the thermostat (which began as sweet relief) convinces my body to crouch into a little ball to prevent the shivers from disturbing my rest. I’ve tried changing the temperature, but the crouched position and the sensation of cold arrives nonetheless.

This morning we chose to leave Ubud after three days of yoga, bargaining in crowded markets and wandering the vegan café-ridden streets.

The previous ten days of surfing and racing around the busy streets of Canggu and Uluwatu led us to search for rest in this hilltop town nestled between the shadows of silent volcanoes. At first I wasn’t sure about this ‘spiritually evolved community’ overflowing with eager yoga students from all corners of the world.

I wasn’t sure about the restaurants producing copious amounts of raw food, smoothies and vegetarian delights serving hundreds of picky Westerners each minute. The needs are consistently met with eagerness and obvious gratitude from the Indonesian providers while just outside the streets overflow with scrumptious local food and fresh tropical fruit for an 18^th of the cost.

Have we lost our ability and yearning to experience a culture authentically? Do we travel to other corners of the globe and cringe at the slightest discomfort or are we simply being duped?

Ubud’s obvious contradictions have led me to use the word contrived to describe some of my surroundings. Maybe I am cynical? Maybe I am observing the space through sarcastic sunglasses?

There are certainly parts of Ubud that I love – the cafes, the friends, the diverse yoga teachings, the fresh food, the busy markets and bustling streets. It’s all very confusing as these are also the things I dislike about the town as they seem to merely be there for us, the foreigners, and this makes me wonder whether Ubud’s original charm has evaporated completely?

It’s fascinating, I notice that I observe the beauty around me, or lack there of depending on my current state of mind…

Sitting in the worshipped café at the Yoga Barn, eavesdropping on the conversations of travelling seekers from all over the globe, I sense that even the seemingly conscious population is obsessed with solving the unknowns of life?

Are these seekers (myself included) trapped in a constant state of questioning, trying so very hard to remain awake and present and curious but are in reality entrapped in a suffocating state of fixing that drowns presence?

The start time of the next yoga class urges crowds of colourful, organic cotton legs past the temples, stray dogs and desperate locals. Were the surroundings even noticed? Have we allowed our end goal to desensitise ourselves from our environment?

Can I skip the self-interrogation for a few days and accommodate the tangible beauty right now by stopping and looking?

I don’t know?

I’m actually sick of looking for answers.

Maybe I’ll sit back and let the answers come to me…or wait…maybe stop needing answers all together? Wouldn’t that be a relief?!

I shall simply live and Bali will naturally seep in for my last few days in paradise.

When my mind is beautiful my body is beautiful. When my mind is crowded, lethargic and inflamed, my stomach bulges, my shoulders stiffen and stained purple crescent moons crowd my dull eyes.

The quality of food I put in my body must have some negative and positive affect on my vitality and appearance but my mind controls the way I believe others see me. I’m pretty sure they shift between watching a confident, giggling and voluptuous woman and a quiet confused plain blond girl – one who could blend into any crowd of other blond girls.

There’s nothing wrong with these shifts. I would, of course prefer to exist in the assertive skin more often than not but the shy moments when I hide in self-judgment are the ones that keep me grounded. They keep me humble and empathetic to the harsh interpretations I can place on the world depending on my state of positivity.

The way I see you right now is a result of my state of my mind. I have considered that everything I notice potentially reflects that which I acknowledge in myself.

Beauty exists not in the eyes of the interpreter but from the mind of the interpreter. How I see is how I am thinking. What I see is what I am thinking.

After a couple of days in Ubud, I saw beautiful moments and disturbing ones – they shifted as I shifted and I liked watching the movement…instead of judging the confusion I sat curiously. The flowers in between the buildings and the starving beggar reaching desperately towards my purse were both highlighted and hidden as the fluctuations of thought bounced around in my head.

This evening I rest on a tropical turquoise island. Everything here seems beautiful. My home is a small wooden beach hut less than one hundred metres from the oceans’ lips. The infinity pool jealously watches the waves a few feet from her edge. The rooster squawks again. The sun begins to set, spreading beams of magenta across the untouched sky.

There – I guess that tells you I am very happy tonight and that’s really all that matters right now anyways!

xx

Hello Bali!

Just another blond girl here, reporting on the ups and downs of living in paradise…

Lucky me…Paradise has moved today. I have been accompanied by four of my favourite people on a little holiday escaping the constant holiday of Manly. This morning,we found ourselves waking up in a six bedroom luxury villa in Canggu, Bali.

Bali is a very special place. Its’ land reminds me of an unintended collaboration between Kenya and Hawaii. There is an essence like that of Hawaii – an ancient wisdom streaming through the rice paddies and the beaks of tiny birds. There are jagged rocks and the earth is fertile, abundant and green. She speaks to me when I come here. She has goddess like qualities, a powerful and all-knowing presence but she is stern in her request for self-compassion and softness.

Like Kenya, her people beam from their culture and genuine appreciation for life itself. Everyone smiles, welcoming all foreigners to stay for as long as they like. She isn’t perfect. She is fuelled by corruption, poverty and dirty roads, but these accessorise her diverse personality. The orderly chaos of the streets reminds me of Nairobi.

This morning I awoke early. The rooster was the first one up, fulfilling his duty to start the day. The air was filled with darkness…the moments of anticipation when the clock speaks of morning and the sun’s first glimmer has yet to arrive.

The second sound wafted eerily through the air – chanting from a nearby mosque. The men reverberate prayers that are so unfamiliar to a western blond girl born and raised in Canada. We hear them from time to time, but never quite understand the potency within each deep, throaty echo from a language created long before our culture arrived.

A slow and repetitive hum, a barely recognisable shift between notes – the sound mesmerises me because it speaks to something foreign and nurturing. Sometimes readings fall short when the experience of listening to a song can tell me everything there is to know.

A series of hot daylight hours pass…the light begins to transform into a calmer, more shadowy version of herself.

I peer to my left – an infinity pool nestled in between rice paddies, icing the carved building behind me. I gaze out at the wafting smoke dissipating flames from the controlled burning in the fields. Black kites hover above the paddies and terracotta tiled roofs, some of them quite high, some of them barely recognisable in the distance. I must find out the story behind these?

There are rustling palm leaves, water trickling behind the hidden wall of the pool and the infrequent, yet constant chatter of birds. There is a muffled hum of passing scooters, reminding me that my little haven is a mere hundred feet from the busyness of Balinese life. The rooster, he still squawks.

It’s hard not to feel guilty for the abundance around me. Just outside on this street are those very much less fortunate riding around in threes and fours on scooters. They are often without shoes, barely with enough food for dinner and here I lounge sleepily after an hour massage, surf and organic smoothie at a local tourist café.

Having spent time in underdeveloped areas of the world I feel fortunate to have created personal relationships with the people. I’ve listened to their stories, their challenges and their desires and from this I conclude that it’s okay to acknowledge the guilt for the abundance – these feelings are only natural; however, I would never disrespect what I have been given in this moment by pushing it away because of guilt.

I shall drink in every second of today. I will offer abundance my full presence and not for even a second indulge in my worries that exist one thousand miles away, or only in the projections of my mind. I’ve learned that not acknowledging my gifts is much worse than recalling the world’s disparities themselves.

So I say a massive thank you to this place where I have landed today.

Being in the midst of holiday mode, I am not surprised that my well-trained mind continues to desire a sense of accomplishment.

“What shall we get out of this trip?”

“What shall we do?”

“We must learn to surf big waves and practice yoga every day and make sure not to drink too much but still go out and party a little bit and get enough sleep and connect with our friends and meet new friends and see new places and read all of my books and….”

Stop please.

That’s enough mind. You can rest now. Maybe for two weeks you don’t have to do anything other than what you want to do in each moment. Maybe you just want to have fun. You won’t know what fun looks like until you are there so really, there’s nothing to worry about!

Relief.

My girlfriend lounges in a beanbag, holding an open book, not reading it but gazing into the distance, twirling her ankle in the surface of the cool pool.

Ripples migrate further and further into the centre with every twirl of her foot. The ripple effect is interesting – one seemingly tiny movement can expand and change the space beyond for considerable miles. Our happiness and our anger do this too.

This trip to Bali (I hope) will allow me the space to create a still, calm, rested and happy surface of my pool. I can then choose how I want to begin twirling my ankle – but only when I am ready! I realise every twirl has the potential to change the entire world.

Happy Ramadan from Bali

xx

Good Morning Mantown,

Just another blond girl here reporting on the ups and downs of living in paradise…

The wind is magnificent in paradise today. When energy is stagnant, nature sweeps in and forces change despite choice and perceived readiness. In moments things seem within my control. Maybe some things are within my control and yet life responds to the constant fluctuation between my resistance vs. my ability to trust, release, flow and allow.

Despite the recognition of the natural flow of life, I struggle sometimes. I have days where I feel so much and I want to be able to express in words what I am experiencing and I don’t know how? I walk into a yoga room multiple times per week and lead hundreds of people through a potentially transformational process…speaking to them from my heart and so often, the people I want to express words too aren’t there listening and when they are my words get stuck.

I sat in meditation yesterday morning and after a few minutes of busy thought I began to feel my body. I scanned along my spine to concentrate on right now and not the incessant stories in my head. With my eyes closed I recalled the space above my head. The space I often forget exists. This space reminds me that the entire world is around and underneath me.

Everyone I know in my life, everyone I have ever known in my life, as well as what I believe to be every other person I still have yet to meet exists in this abundant cosmos above.

How do I know this? I just do. I know. I don’t know why I know – this is the predicament!

Every once and a while I am blessed with a visit from someone in particular. Some days when I sit quietly I get to share a few words with my Grandmother who passed away a year ago. She has visited me quite frequently over the past few months. She is always beaming with pride and refers to me in the Belgian term for ‘little one’. (I have no idea how to spell it in Flemish?)

I have been visited recently by my three Uncles – Uncle Brian, Uncle Barry and Uncle Bill. Upon recounting these visits with a dear friend, he asked me to consider naming these visits “JUST B” – The most simple reminder to relax with what is.

When team JUST B arrives they rarely say much, usually just a word or two, usually a very essential and cheeky response to something I have asked for help with. I rarely remember to ask for help. They always provide an answer and a grin.

Fortunately this week, quite a few people surround me. Some characters long forgotten – acquaintances who I met a handful of times before they passed away, but there they are above my head speaking to me and watching. Sometimes they cheer me on.

One of these special visits was from my friend Cari. She passed away nearly two and a half years ago now. It feels like yesterday. She didn’t say anything, not like last time, but she came to me and smiled – that gorgeous, massive grin that never ceased to propel happiness into the sprits of anyone nearby. It’s interesting that later in the day Facebook told me it was her Birthday.

Sometimes I feel really alone when I forget that I am not alone at all.

Sometimes life seems overwhelming.

People have suggested I am an Empath.

What is an Empath? Well, I did some research and here is my summary based on the collective intelligence and my personal experiences…

• I feel everything
• I am extremely sensitive to energy in any form
• I know things and don’t know why I know them
• People and places can overwhelm me – I feel you and you and you and you…
• I can’t read the news because I become the news
• I know what you’re really saying beneath those words
• I (unfortunately) have been known to pick up your physical symptoms
• I suffer from frequent ailments
• I hold space for your problems (usually too much to my own detriment)
• I am a great listener
• I am always tired
• I love wine – wine gives me a break!
• I love ‘hippy healing stuff’ – the only other people who understand me!
• I am very creative and need to be close to nature
• I refuse to do anything I do not enjoy
• I need to know the WHY/HOW & WHO behind everything – Can someone please explain this?
• I am easily distracted and need stimulation
• I HATE clutter – it feels too busy and yet my personality often seems cluttered
• I make up incredible stories in my head
• I am sensitive to food and noise
• I do not like old, used things as they carry old, used energy and if it isn’t nice I can feel it
• I can sense ghosts/spirits/energy that many others cannot see
• I am the physical manifestation of a roller coaster with a very calm and grounded base

This gift of feeling is wonderful. It delivers a possibility for connection that many people could only dream of and with this gift also comes a great deal of mental anguish too.

I often struggle defining the difference between my thoughts and my feelings. My intuition has proven to be as solid as a rock and sometimes my thoughts are even stronger.

I repeatedly ask myself the question, “Is desire for something blinding me from my intuition and allowing my intellect to devise a seeming ‘feeling’ when in fact it’s not that at all”?

The only escape I have discovered is to engage with the world when I feel stuck. I need to look into your eyes and even touch you. I need you to pull me back out. I need the wind to mess up my hair even though it pisses me off and to jump in the ocean so she can clean me off. I need to sweat and run out of breath. I also need silence and rest. I need healthy food and to allow the thoughts to drain out. Sometimes I need to get really drunk and cry. I cry a lot. Crying is good.

Being an Empath is magical and it requires effort to navigate the simplest aspects of my world…

I question today whether I have a choice with this character trait – Is it me? Am I it?

My uber sensitive feelings aren’t going anywhere. I don’t mind them either. The shivers running up and down my spine multiple time per day deliciously remind me of how profound this energetic world is. Do I have a choice to turn them off? Maybe, but why would I? The days of connection are worth the cumbersome ones.

Nonetheless, if you happen to cross paths with this blond girl anytime soon, you can better understand the layers of occurrence I am witnessing with every step in this world. If you catch me on a good day, I’ll be beaming and laughing and bouncing around.

On some of those harder days, well it’s extremely obvious, I can’t hide my feelings even if I try. On these days can you please give me hug, ask me to look into your eyes, throw me in the ocean and maybe even take me dancing?!

xx