Leaving Gili: The Day I Learned to Let it Be

                                       

We left Gili Air in an adventurous way. Departure tickets were bought a day early to ensure seats on a boat. When we arrived at the harbor, it was clear that all boats were over booked, 150 tickets sold for 30 seats to be exact. I went up to the counter and a man took my ticket and started walking away. I followed him along with a few others who seemed to have given him their tickets as well. 

One of the travelers was on the phone as he walked with us explaining a tragic loss of friends. He needed to get off the island to get home to attend a funeral. There were a couple gals needing to get back to catch a flight and they were very insistent that they get on the boat. Every time I tried to get information, the man just walked away. I made sure to follow since he held our tickets off the island.

We returned to the harbor office where fellow travelers sat waiting. Time was nearing our scheduled departure and I still had not heard how we were getting off the island. It was as Gili Air was acting like a jilted lover tugging onto our coattails as we walked away. 

The gals with the flight to catch were yelling at the staff and I realized that I would have done the same thing only a year ago. I realized how demanding I was and how forceful it sounded. I was surprised that I did not feel the need to yell or panic. There was a calm that was new to me and I just asked what was going on and he responded to my calm. He asked if we could take the 3 o'clock boat, but my gut told me that boat was also over booked and I told him I preferred to leave at noon as we originally paid for. He got on the phone once again with my ticket in clear view.

In the meantime, I asked the fellow traveler what had happened to his friends. He told me that his friends were on a plane from Amsterdam to Bali and the plane was shot down. He lost 12 friends in one night. Immediately, the boat ride issue was minuscule. He explained how his football team was coming out to Gili to visit him and that he held a beach memorial for the dead until 5am that morning. He explained that he was still in shock and didn't know how to process the news, but was trying to be strong since he had a lot of travel ahead of him.

He assured me that the GIli way was to overbook the boats and not communicate, but that another boat is always found. The man with my ticket was still on the phone, so I went to sit next to Penny to explain what was going on. I saw the boat that we paid to get on enter the harbor and I got up and told the man my boat arrived and that I wanted my ticket back. He handed another person my ticket who then created another ticket and told me to go down to the harbor and speak to the captain of the boat to try to get us on the boat.

When we got to the harbor, one of the crew members was yelling "No room!!!" as people started climbing aboard. I walked over to the man I figured was captain like and showed him my ticket and he told me there was no room. I responded "We must get on this boat" and he responded "Ok, but you sit on top."

I turned to Penny and told her to follow me onto the boat and how we had to sit on top. We climbed on and were told to sit on top of the cargo bags. I was immediately grateful that we did not bring luggage and settled in hoping not to get sick.

The boat started moving and we started laughing at the fact that we made it on the boat and we were sitting on top of the cargo like stowaways. The boat stopped at Lombok first and we heard the chanting from mosques while we waited to head out. I am not sure if people got on or off. We applied sunscreen for our journey in the sun while we waited.

There were about 15 of us on top of the boat including the gals with the plane to catch and man who lost his friends. He began singing "Let it Be" with his arms outstretched and we all joined in after a bit. We sang together as we sped across the Java Sea towards Bali. The boat came to a dead stop in the middle of nowhere while we were singing and we quickly changed our tune to "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" and the boat started back up after a couple minutes. 

One of the crew members offered us massages, which added to the humor of the entire situation. He was the one yelling "No Room!" and now he was trying to make our journey more comfortable. One of the gals took him up on his offer after I asked him to quit rubbing my neck. I am so happy I did because he asked her to take her shirt off so he could "properly" massage her. I inched farther away from him and took in the lovely scenery that sitting below did not offer.

When we arrived back on Bali, the dock had many people holding up signs directing us to our proper shuttles. I found our driver and he told us to head to the office. Not knowing where the office was, I asked someone who led us to the row of offices and shuttle vans. We used the toilet which cost money and ended up being a squat pot with a bucket of water for flushing and half a door for privacy. I downed a Bintang after to calm my nerves and forget the toilet situation and boarded our van.

We paid for the van to drive us back to our place in Ubud, but apparently he was too tired or didn't want to sit in the horrific traffic and dropped us off in the middle of the city at a grocery store. Luckily, Penny and I knew where we were and began the 3 mile walk home. We cracked up at the hilarious events of the day as we dodged motor bikes, trucks and stray dogs. 

All of a sudden the reason we were not driven home revealed itself. I had been looking for 2 weeks for a certain item to buy my friend who is house-sitting for me. I went into several stores and finding similar items, but not the right ones. And then, on the street we were dropped off on, in a window, I saw them. I picked out the amount I wanted and I was ready to negotiate the price and she quoted exactly what I told Penny I wanted to pay a couple days earlier. It was a manifestation for sure. I was giddy for the rest of the trek home happy to have found her gift.

This adventure was further proof that being open and allowing things to flow as they intend to delivers joy. I could have had anxiety and stress but instead chose to stay open and let go. We returned to rain and I feel like the ride on top provided me one more chance to get my fill of sunshine and I definitely consider it a gift from the universe. I learned so much about myself that day and I am so happy that everything transpired the way it did.

Gili Air

                                 

The Gili Islands consist of 3 small islands off the coast of Lombok. The forecast promised abundant sunshine, so we decided to leave rainy Ubud for a couple days in the sun. Negotiation seems to be the norm when it comes to purchasing travel or anything over here, so I was ready to bargain for our boat tickets. I had a price in my head that I decided was the highest we would pay. When I asked the travel agent for the tickets he quoted a price cheaper than the lowest I had seen available. It was so easy to deal with them and the ticket included a pickup from where we were staying and ride to the harbor. I could not wait to leave and grateful for the easy transaction.

Our ride picked us up and dropped us off at the harbor where we had to move through a crowd to check in and wait for the boat. The dock was filled with island hoppers and there were many boats waiting to take us to our destinations. The whole boarding process was pretty chaotic. Women purposely bumped into us trying to sell snacks and sarongs. Travellers looked like deer in the headlights trying to figure out which boat to board. I asked which boat was ours and it was parked next to a boat that sat next to the dock. We had to climb onto that boat and then hop onto our boat. The whole process was silly and confusing. 

Once we were on the boat, the crew passed out bottled water, Dramamine and barf bags...not a good sign. I decided to take the medicine since I have had sea sickness in the past. We settled in and the ride was immediately choppy. The boat bounced up and down, speeding its way towards Gili. The back of the shirts the crew wore stated "the fastest boat to Gili" and by the waves crashing on the windows, water streaming through the cracks and the feeling of being airborne, I agreed. 

We arrived almost two hours later and a bit queasy from the ride. In order to get off the boat, we had to shimmy our way on the side and down a make-shift gangplank to the sand. I was so happy to be on the beach and the sunshine cured everything immediately. 

The island is small and there are no motor vehicles. The only way to get around is by foot, bicycle or horse drawn carriage. The beach is lined with restaurants and bars with thatched roofs and beds to lay in the sun. The road is covered in sand or is entirely sand and traces the circumference of the island with a few roads crossing through. Everything seemed to move at a slower pace, including the waves. 

We checked into our very minimalist home stay and headed right back out to the beach. The sun was warm and intense and the water was perfect and turquoise. I spent my days alternating between laying in the sun and floating effortlessly in the Java Sea. Every morning, we ate banana pancakes with instant coffee. On the beach, we drank coconuts, watched boats bring goods from nearby Lombok and melted into the easy rhythm of the island. In the evening, we walked to the West side of the island to watch the sun set. Each evening, the sunset provided a spectacular show

I really didn't want to leave so we stayed an extra night and found a lovely place right across from our first place for less money. As we were walking to the hotel after the beach, the staff said "Welcome home, Miss Emily" and it warmed my heart. 

I wanted to try a new road on the last night to get to the west side. We trekked through the village and saw houses on stilts, children holding children and men building houses. The road was a lot of loose, fine dirt and our feet were filthy once we reached the coast. I could smell the ocean the entire walk and felt rewarded by the sight of the sea. As we were walking up the beach, Penny proclaimed "I knew I'd find one!" as she pulled an Indonesian phrase book out of the sand. 

I am not sure how she found something buried in the sand, but she had wanted one since we began our trip and its amazing that she found one on the beach. We continued walking and I saw men walking far out into the sea and felt drawn to see how far I could go out. I walked as far as I could to get as close to the sunset as possible. I felt fish and seaweed brushing against my feet; a sensation that usually bothers me. However, I am embracing my new found calm and let nature do what nature does and found myself enjoying everything about that moment. 

Allowing things to happen when they are supposed to has been such a valuable lesson for me. As we sat watching the final colors from the sun, I told Penny that a bonfire would make the night perfect. We walked up the beach stopping at a few places to drink a beer and relax. Right before we found the road again, we came upon a bonfire with no one around. I instantly felt giddy by the serendipity. We sat in the sand and a man came over to add more wood. He owned a home stay on the beach and said he had fireworks earlier. I could not believe the gifts the beach provided. Although small, they were incredible.

I think letting go has cleared up so much mental and emotional space where these positive little things are making such a difference. It is exciting to think about the significance of intention and manifestation. Small changes have been key for me this year. The manifestations are results of the intentions and the intentions come as small changes are made. I am so grateful for the trip to an island I had never heard of and the courage to jump on a crazy boat to get there. 

Raindrops and Moonlight

                                      

A shift happened for me this weekend. I made my way through discomfort to find a new level of comfort. After almost two weeks finding myself in a constant inward and outward struggle, I decided to surrender and let whatever was going to happen (bugs, rain, rashes...), happen. And it has brought me so much peace. The decision to just be present has really affected my happiness quotient and has turned otherwise dreaded happenings into opportunities for joy. 

Last night, the full moon was out and it was raining but we didn't let it stop us from going outside and practicing yoga--moon salutations. The power went out and we found the only candle in the cottage and lit it with the propane burner. Yoga was practiced by clouded moon and candle light. It was so much fun. In fact, after our practice, we jumped in the pool and the moon peeked through the clouds to give us ample light for back floats.

Earlier, the rain was pouring down in sheets, I thought it was hail. I saw Penny just sitting by the pool under the downpour. She looked so happy and content. I wondered what would happen if I tried sitting in the rain. She got up and I went out to try it. It felt amazing. It felt invigorating. It made me want to swim in it. I could not believe myself. I have been a lifelong fan of sunshine and opposer of gray skies and especially rain. But, yesterday, I think I may have fallen in love, just a little with rain. I jumped in the pool and the rain just kept pouring and all I could do was laugh.

It may seem simple to just decide to be present, but for someone who is often in her head figuring out a dozen things at once, it is very very difficult. However, I like where it is taking me. Those dozen things will always be there for me to figure out, but the present will not. I think it is interesting how water has been the constant symbol for me in regards to letting go. Water is fluid and adaptable...things I am still learning. I know growth and letting go will forever be a part of life, but I think I am finding a way to peacefully and joyfully embrace them.

The Discomforts of Paradise

                                  
Everything I was expecting Bali to be has not happened. I have had a hard, uncomfortable first ten days here. My intention on this journey was to write, be still and meditate on my next steps in life. All three things are happening, but there have been environmental and emotional factors that I did not expect.

One of my first nights here, I was bit in the middle of the night, hopped out of bed and sprayed DEET all over my body in hopes of warding of nighttime critters. I woke up the next morning covered in big, red and ugly bumps. They burned and itched. I went to a clinic and picked up some benedryl after looking up pictures of skin rashes online. Apparently, I am allergic to poisonous DEET. So, now I just deal with bites and luckily the rash is almost gone.

Then there is the rain. The endless rain. I am someone that needs sun. I learned about this years ago while living in Seattle. It was my first encounter with Seasonal Affectedness Disorder, aka: SAD. There are periods of sunshine and I rush outside and sit in any sliver the sun provides. Yesterday, the sun was abundant and I was able to lay in its glory for an entire day. However, the rain has definitely affected my mood, but provides ample indoor time for writing and soul searching.

I think the most uncomfortable occurrence was while getting a pedicure, a large rat hopped out of a pile of clean towels and scurried up the wall into a hole in the ceiling. Rodents are my biggest fear. I even had a hard time with squirrels until recently. So, this really sent me to another plane of fear. I figured I would see rats in Bali, just not that close up or in a spa. I wanted to cry, pee my pants and scream all at once. I was assured by the staff that it was only a small mouse, but I know what I saw and couldn't get out of there quick enough.

With all that said, there is a certain sacredness to Bali that I appreciate. The day I saw the rat was a turning point for me. It was gray outside, the rat thing happened, I was tired and moody and then we walked by the temple. Women were dressed up in beautiful attire with large baskets filled with offerings on top of their heads. The ceremonial feel of the procession filled me with awe as I watched them perfectly kneel down to offer their goods. I thought about my own offering and what I had been giving lately. My conclusion was complaints, tears, questions and frustration. However, I realized in that moment that offering is a ritual and the answers may not appear immediately but the practice is what was important.

Images of these women have stuck with me and I am determined to change my offering to positivity, love, compassion and trust. Trust is the hardest for me. I am fiercely independent and trust requires surrender. Letting go has been my theme for a couple years now; I expect a couple more. But, when I look back on my life, I have always been okay, despite my worry and anxiety, the universe has provided everything I needed. These provisions come through prayer, meditation and trust. I am a product of grace. When I look back at the gifts and opportunities in my life and see the complaints and negativity that have at times clouded my offerings, I know that grace has provided the lessons along with the gifts.

Today I realize that my lesson is getting through a transition with grace, peace and love. My gifts are experiencing this discomfort in a beautiful place and the realization that growth is eternal. I look forward to mindfully entering each day differently and offering myself in a more loving manner. I recently read someone feeling like hugging the universe. Today I offer my hug and trust. I can't do this alone.

On Connection

                            

One of my favorite things about travel is the gift of connection. I find myself so wrapped up at home that I tend to forget the beauty of human connection. On an airplane, we have the choice to ignore the person next to us or engage in a conversation. I admit, I don't always want to have a conversation on an airplane, but the ones I do end up having are great. It is fascinating to learn about other people's lives and hear their perspectives on things. If I'm lucky, maybe even hear some words of wisdom.

While I am here in Bali, I am with my dear friend whom I stay connected with through the beauty of the iPhone and FaceTime. But, seeing her face to face trumps whatever technology has to offer. There is a certain energy I feel when I am around her; a calm appreciation and acceptance. We also have to rely on each other to forge our way in a somewhat familiar place but still carries with it a foreign language and customs that we easily forgot. This interdependance draws us closer and strenghthens our friendship. I wonder if this would happen if we were next door neighbors again, like we were years ago...but I somehow think it would not.

Travel shakes you and makes your senses open up because of the unfamiliar. This makes me think that is why connection with strangers is easier away from home. Fellow travellers have stories to share, they are looking for a slice of familiar while away from home, and most likely don't have internet access, therefore, face to face connections happen more fluidly. Everytime we are out, we end up having long conversations with complete strangers, most ending in hugs. It's as if we have a silent code of honor "We're in this together. Let's connect"; especially if travelling alone. When I was in Costa Rica, I found myself with many new connections that I am so grateful for. 

I think my challenge will be to try to find this certain intimacy when I return home. Because even if I am not faraway from home, we are all still in this together. Spending quality time together just feels better than a quick text. Perhaps schedules will not allow the languid conversations that travel provides, but my goal will be to foster connection in each place I am by striving to be present and open.

"There's No Sauce in the World Like Hunger"

                              

Today was a lazy day spent lounging by the pool and soaking up the sun. Our neighbors in the cottage next door came over to chat with us. They are an adventuous couple in their 80s who have so many tales of their travels around the world. Orginally from Austria, they now live in Australia and have travelled together all over the place including a VW bus trip from Germany to Australia over land through the Middle East and South East Asia. They are fascinating to say the least.

While they were telling their travel tales, I found myself missing my grandparents. They didn't travel the world, but they always encouraged me to get out in the world as well as learn as much as I could about other cultures. I don't think it is a coinicidnece that we went to the grocery store earlier today and I bought Bali's equivalent of ingridients for spaghetti sauce. After our conversation, I was inspired to go make sauce. I put on songs that reminded me of my grandma, including Patsy Cline and the Rat Pack's greatest hits and I diced, chopped, sang and simmered to her honor.

My grandma had a sign in her kitchen that said "There's no sauce in the world like hunger". The image of that sign hanging over her stove stayed with me as I made dinner tonight. In fact, while I was taking a shower after the pool, a ladybug landed on the bath mat. I know this was symbolic of my grandma. After she passed, a ladybug flew into my car and stayed on my steering wheel for the entire weepy trip. Therefore, ladybugs have always been a symbol of my grandma for me. The ladybug just chilled in my hands until I placed it on a nearby leaf. 

I think she would be proud that I brought some Italian vibes to Bali tonight. I may be in a foreign country, but I can still bring the essence of home with me, wherever I go.