Eat, Pray, Love
It’s a Saturday. I’m back in Bali, on Nusa Lembongan, looking out at the waves breaking over the Devil’s Tear. I splurged and had a glass of wine at 3:30. The water is turquoise and clear. I look up to the semi-overcast sky and watch a plane ascend into the clouds. In exactly one week, down to the hour, I will be on that very plane on my way back to the United States.
It’s been an interesting month, one that I started to write about, but failed to finish because I, unsurprisingly, was overwhelmed by it all myself.
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*Flashback to one month ago*
It’s December in Japan and I’ve finally switched into holiday mode. Kyoto is a brisk 47 degrees F, a major drop from Chiang Mai’s humid 84, but I don’t hate it. Christmas music and decorations don’t seem bizarre anymore, and the holiday cheer is easing our year-end depression via feelings of gratefulness and group love. I’m pretty sure the unwelcome conclusion of Meraki’s journey couldn’t have landed at a better time of year. We had an amazing Thanksgiving together at a massive villa with a pool and kitchen big enough for five cooks and Ton (our angel city lead last month) to whip up vegan green curry and more. We watched Harry Potter all day long, played card games, drank micheladas (a tribute to Mexico), and cuddled on the enormous couch with our plates of food. It couldn’t have felt more normal.
This month, we seem to congregate at the workspace (with a daily happy hour from 5:30-6:30) for ‘work’ and yearbook editing, but mostly mingling. It’s nice to know you won’t ever have to be alone if you don’t want to be.
Our apartments are miniature (or we’re just giants), but cozy and clean. The Japanese are wildly efficient- on the backs of our toilets, there’s a small spout for hand-washing so the refill water isn’t wasted. They are pro-recyclers, total rule-followers, quiet and respectful, but love to let loose (ironically) and get drunk. I can’t express how much I love it here. Sashimi, sake, mindfulness, cool fashion, drinkable tap water, what more could I want?? Potentially more English, but walking into a grocery store and having zero clue what you’re buying (everything strictly in Japanese symbols), is kind of fun. I’ve also reverted back to my college habit of eating ramen at least once a day, because it’s the cheapest thing around and Japan is expensive (minus conveyor belt sushi at about $6 per 10 pieces).
It’s hard to believe we’re already starting our second week in Japan. Once again, time is slipping like sand through my fingers
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I started out the month strong, bubbling with childlike curiosity, discovering all the nuances Japan respectfully served up to our group of travelers.
The bowing, the heated toilet seats and rainforest noises that played at public restrooms, taxi doors that opened and closed themselves, the X-ing, 7-Eleven egg sandwiches, finally understanding all the weird emojis on my iPhone keyboard, and the moment when I switched from using a fork to chopsticks because it was easier. I visited local temples, spoke with priests, practiced Taikio (a method of movement for body cell rejuvenation), drank matcha, took a train to Osaka for Flume and Harry Potter World, a bus to Nara for the deer, and drove a rented Toyota equipped with snow tires to Nagano for snow monkeys. I tasted 18 different sakes in one sitting, walked through a bamboo forest, practiced Zen Meditation, went to a pug café, bought a kimono, gazed at Mount Fuji where I was awestricken by her beauty, skinny-dipped in 8 different onsens (Japanese hot springs) with my best lady friends, rolled into Tokyo for a few remaining nights, frolicked through Shibuya Crossing, took tips from fashionistas in Harajuku and ate more 7-eleven along the way.
In the midst of all that, we were having farewells, saying our goodbyes, and trying to squeeze every last drop out of our Remote Year. It took a toll on me.
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I said goodbye to the ocean today. For a few months at least. From the same balcony I sat watching the plane float up into the sky, I silently meditated on the strength of the waves as they crashed against the cliffside. I saw a sea turtle poke his head up over the swell for some air.
I guess it’s only fitting I end my year in Bali; my own version of Eat, Pray, Love. It’s here I close this chapter of my life and begin another. A year of world travel under my belt. A year of eating until my pants don’t button. A year of praying to a rediscovered God of this beautiful universe. A year of learning how to love unconditionally, but mostly how to love myself.
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So here we go folks, the things I learned on Remote Year:
1) Everyone is dealing with something.
2) Perception changes everything.
3) Human energy is real and tangible.
4) Awareness. Awareness of how attached we are to our phones. Awareness of a vegetarian or vegan’s daily struggle. Awareness of cultural differences. Awareness of the sacrifice of others. Awareness of how my thoughts can impact my experiences. Awareness of my thoughts in general. Awareness of my impact on those around me. Awareness of body. Awareness of energy. Awareness of self.
The hard part will be putting this awareness into practice.
5) It takes courage to be a free spirit.
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And that’s where I’ll leave it. My final thoughts on 2017, post Remote year. It might sound a bit hippie-dippy, but what can I say, I’m surrounded by jungle, green juices and yogis ;)
As for 2018, here are my current mantras:
I will be kind to myself and to those around me. I will put forth positive energy. I will listen to my body. I will place my focus on what brings myself, and others, joy.
Bye Bali, see you soon Raleigh.
Peace n love,
Molly
