Day 48: Returning to the Heart of Bali
When the Island Speaks: Listening to Bali’s Lessons
I have made it to a different part of Bali (I’ll share which part with my paid subscribers! That’s another thing I want to keep private for the moment!) I didn’t plan on coming here today. But sometimes, Bali has its own way of redirecting us when we most need it.
This morning, I went to my meetings and shared openly about what happened to me yesterday (which I wrote about in this newsletter). I was so grateful to have built in-person connections for this reason. The weight of it all sat heavy on my chest, but I was met with hugs and support from the women in both rooms. Many women, after hearing the story, said the same thing: since he knows where I was staying, and since the situation had shaken me to my core, I should leave where I’m staying if I could, so he didn’t know where to find me. If it were my own home, it would be one thing, but staying in the guesthouse wasn’t required of me. It was temporary.
Fortunately, I have a quiet, beautiful, empty villa tucked away in rural Ubud. I’d been going back and forth about what to do with it, and suddenly, the decision felt obvious—I would retreat there for the next couple of days before heading to Dubai.
As I left Uluwatu, I felt a sensation I can only describe as an urgent escape, the kind of flight women experience when leaving an unsafe space. My intuition was speaking, and I listened.
The journey took three hours, mostly because I was stopped for a ceremony for 30 minutes along the way. At first, impatience bubbled up within me. And then, suddenly, I was struck by a realization—Wow. I haven’t been stopped for a ceremony in ages. Maybe not since the end of 2024.
In Ubud, ceremonies are woven into the rhythm of daily life. Hindu offerings, processions, and temple blessings are not an interruption but a reminder of devotion. When you live here, you get used to getting stuck waiting for a ceremony to pass at least once a week. The Bukit Peninsula, where Uluwatu sits, has a different spiritual landscape—more mixed, less overtly Hindu, and consequently, less ritual. As I sat there today, watching the procession pass for about 30 minutes, I felt something stir inside me. This is the magic of Bali. This is what I have been missing.
After the ceremony, as I finished the last thirty or so minutes of the drive, my motorbike wove through endless rice terraces, the golden hues of sunset sparkling over the fields. The scent of burning incense mixed with the cool evening air. When I finally pulled up at my villa, the jungle hummed and buzzed around me, a symphony of life. My whole body exhaled.
I am home.
Reflecting on the past six weeks in Uluwatu, I realized something crucial—it wasn’t the place itself that made my time so rich. It was me. I had cultivated a life of consistency. Every day, I practiced yoga. I walked 10,000 steps. I showed up for my AA meetings. I built connections. The transformation I experienced wasn’t tied to a location—it was rooted in my discipline, my choices, my willingness to show up for myself.
And yet, when I described my ideal home to a friend the other night—a house with a pool, surrounded by nature, with an extra guest room and a space to teach group yoga—it dawned on me. I already have exactly what I want. It’s just in Ubud.
Tonight, as I settle in, I make a quiet resolve.
I leave for Dubai in two days, so this shift cannot happen immediately. But when I return, and after my time in India, I will devote those two full months to Ubud. March and April will be an experiment—giving Ubud the same chance I gave Uluwatu.
I’ll maintain my weekend yoga classes in Uluwatu, commuting down as I did before. But throughout the rest of the week, I will build a life in Ubud.
I will attend AA meetings daily.
I will immerse myself in yoga classes.
I will seek out a studio where I can teach and serve the community.
I will host women’s circles and kirtan gatherings in my own home, inviting others to join in devotion.
And after two months, if I haven’t found in Ubud what I created for myself in Uluwatu, I will accept that and move south permanently.
Khalas. Yalla.
But I owe Ubud a fair chance. Because there is a reason all my retreats and trainings are hosted here. There is a reason seekers from all over the world come to this jungle. People need to experience this magic.
Tonight, I am grateful for this unexpected detour, this unplanned return to the medicine of Ubud. Tomorrow, I already have plans—to attend a yoga class, to sit in an ACA meeting, to work from home in the afternoon.
It feels like a deep, sweet exhale.
Ubud means medicine. And right now, I am taking my own prescription.
I am grateful for the way Uluwatu held me these past six weeks. And I am open to wherever this path in Bali leads me next. One thing is certain: I belong to this island.
The rest, I will discover in time.
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Yoga Sutra Study (Online): Starts March 23.
https://www.themindfullifepractice.com/yoga-sutra-study
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https://www.themindfullifepractice.com/bali-200-hour
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https://www.themindfullifepractice.com/2025-300-hour-ytt-in-bali
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