Today, I returned to my home in Ubud for the first time in two weeks. When I left, I was in a rough place—burnt out and overwhelmed. My withdrawal from social media mirrored the rawness of my earlier withdrawal from alcohol. I realized I couldn’t do this early transition off Instagram alone.
The reason why I feel so alone in Ubud is because the rhythm of my life is an intense pendulum. When retreats are in town, it’s nonstop—work, people, energy, everywhere. Then, when they leave, I’m alone. In 2024, I would say I had retreats about maybe 80% of the time in town? This current stretch, from mid November until mid February, is the longest break I’ve had for hosting groups since since maybe the start of 2023? And my focus on building an online business, and also giving all my efforts to my retreat groups, has left me with a smaller in-person community in Ubud than I’d like. And in early January, when withdrawing from Instagram, I was massively feeling it.
I’ve found community in Uluwatu, where I teach drop-in yoga classes. Though the two-hour drive down to the beach is challenging, once I am there, the community feels like a supportive cocoon. For the past two weeks, Uluwatu has cradled me through this recovery—not only from Instagram addiction but also from the relentless cycle of workaholism.
My teacher Rolf shared a phrase with me at the start of January: "How you organize your day is what you bow down to." I know I’ve quoted this a million times in my Substack, but it really had an impact on me. That same day, my friend Becki visited me in Ubud and asked, “Why are you taking work calls at 6 a.m. and 10 p.m.?” Her question stopped me. I had never questioned it—I’d built my life around the demands of time zones and clients, bowing down to the pace of my work instead of prioritizing myself.
Since then, I’ve reshaped my priorities:
My morning practice is sacred. I dedicate 90 minutes each morning solely to myself—20 minutes of Vedic meditation, 60 minutes of asana practice, and 10 minutes of chanting with my harmonium. I don’t open my phone until that’s done. I no longer take Zoom calls before 7:30am.
Daily Twelve-Step meetings. Whether in person or online, these meetings anchor my sobriety and remind me of the sangha, as well as the efforts to be the best version of myself I can be.
Writing for connection. Each day, I pour my thoughts into a Substack essay, weaving together my experiences and lessons for others. When I first started, I was writing first thing in the morning. Now, I find I just do it whenever I have time, which often means it’s the afternoon or evening. That’s ok. As long as I do it, I am pleased. Sometimes I have a real spark of inspiration, and sometimes I have to dig for it, but writing feels like an act of service for both myself and others.
Afternoon Meditation. At some point, in the afternoon, I have to do my second sit. This helps me recollect my energy and realign with being in a positive place.
Evening reflection. The last hour before bed is for reading—a time to quiet my mind and immerse myself in wisdom. I’ve been diving into transformative books like The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle and Push Off From Here by Laura McKowen.
This structure of my day has transformed my life. I no longer feel so scattered, exhausted, and pulled in many directions. And, all these years I’d been terrified if I took care of myself first, the business would slow to a stop. But it hasn’t slowed to a stop. It’s actually doing better than it was before. We’ve had people sign up for every single retreat and program since I stepped off Instagram.
When I returned to my Ubud home today, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel. I’ve been torn between Uluwatu’s community and Ubud’s solitude. But walking through the door, I felt an unexpected sense of relief. The space was clean, the jungle hummed, and the pool sparkled.
I realized something profound: when I left Ubud a few weeks ago, I wasn’t seeing things as they are—I was seeing things as I was. This echoes a truth from Buddha Dharma: our perception of the world is shaped by the state of our mind. The Buddha taught that attachment is the root of suffering, and by letting go of our attachments—be it to places, people, or outcomes—we can find freedom.
For now, Uluwatu feels right for my recovery, but perhaps Ubud still holds space for me to grow, especially when retreats are in town. It doesn’t have to be one or the other, it can be both. Life isn’t a fixed path; it’s a fluid journey of exploration and alignment, and I’m lucky to have the space to move between both parts of Bali easily and fluidly.
Today, I was in Ubud because I’d been invited to play harmonium and sing with my friend Emil. It felt surreal—I’ve only had my harmonium for a week and just one lesson! Yet, there I was, living a vision I’d dreamed of for years - since I did my first Kirtan in 2014 at my Yoga Teacher Training. I actually even put it on my vision board that I wanted to start leading Kirtans this year. And then, it just came together. This moment reminded me of something central to the Bhagavad Gita: action without attachment.
Krishna tells Arjuna in Chapter 2, Verse 47:
"You have a right to perform your duties, but you are not entitled to the fruits of your actions. Never consider yourself the cause of the results of your activities, nor be attached to inaction."
This wisdom has reshaped how I approach life. When I stopped gripping so tightly to outcomes—be it Instagram, my business, or my podcast—life began to flow. Opportunities arose when I aligned my actions with my values, free from the weight of expectations.
Yoga Sutra 1.41 offers similar guidance:
"When the mind becomes clear, like a transparent crystal, it takes on the qualities of whatever it focuses on."
This sutra illustrates the power of a focused, calm mind. When we quiet the noise—be it social media, work, or internal chatter—we align with a higher vibration. Buddha Dharma teaches that the mind is shaped by its environment; when immersed in positivity and mindfulness, we naturally gravitate toward what is constructive and joyful.
In sobriety, this is a daily practice. The Twelve Steps remind me to release control, trust a higher power, and take life one step at a time. Step Three is about this: “Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.” This surrender is not passive; it’s a courageous act of faith that aligns us with grace.
When I let go of control and focus on my inner work, the world mirrors that clarity. Just as the crystal-clear mind described in the Yoga Sutras reflects its surroundings, a peaceful inner state draws in harmony and abundance.
This unfolding journey has taught me that when we loosen our grip on life and release our expectations, life gives us what we truly need. By prioritizing self-care and surrendering to the present moment, we can create a life that supports our deepest intentions.
As I continue to explore where I belong—Uluwatu or Ubud, or maybe both—I remind myself of this simple truth: When I nurture myself, my energy rises to meet the world. From this place of clarity, I can participate in life fully—anchored in the here and now, liberated, and open to whatever unfolds.
Another way that the universe has taken care of me is by providing me with paid Substack subscribers. I want to thank Carolyn, Cherie, Brenda, Karin, Celeste, Anita, Yvonne, Sarah and Erin. There’s now nine of you! (Who is going to be lucky number ten as my tenth subscriber? You can make my day by signing up below!)
It feels really special to know that my work is valued in this way, and I appreciate all your support.
Ways You Can Support My Work:
Become a member of the Mindful Life Practice and access our on demand yoga classes
Buy my book on Amazon (Sober Yoga Girl)
Buy merchandise from my shop
Sign up for upcoming retreats and trainings