Theme: Slowing Down, Reconnecting, and Trusting Divine Timing

During this series, I will be taking you to many places in Bali and exploring why this beautiful island was able to steal my heart.

Ubud – Sacral Chakra (Svadhisthana)

Ubud is that friend who makes you quit your job, buy a journal, and suddenly think you can paint. It’s creative, emotional, and a little dramatic, but in the best way. Between the jungle, the yoga studios, and the sound of waterfalls everywhere, it’s impossible not to feel something move inside you. This is where people come to reinvent themselves, flirt with their purpose, and maybe fall in love with a smoothie bowl. Think Silver Lake energy with a Brooklyn art phase; it’s a mix of soul-searching, healing, and “maybe I’ll start a jewelry line.”

The Experience

The air in Ubud feels alive: thick, fragrant, and just a little unbothered by your jet lag. It smells like incense, rain, and adventure, all simmering under the kind of sun that doesn’t care about your makeup. After thirty hours, a few questionable airport meals, and one winding drive through what felt like a video game of scooters, I finally made it to the villa.

I dropped my bags, took a deep breath, and stood still. Birds were screaming (in harmony, I think), and tiny geckos darted up the walls like they paid rent there. They’re basically Bali’s version of housecats, all cute, fast, and loud when you’re trying to sleep.

Shoes off always. The floor was cool and smooth against my feet, like the island itself was saying, relax. There’s something about Bali that brings you right back into your body. The air clings to your skin. The scooters hum in the background like white noise. The scent of wet earth reminds you that slowing down isn’t optional here; it’s instinct.

I made myself coffee in the outdoor kitchen, pretending it would keep me awake. (Spoiler: it didn’t. I was asleep by 8 p.m.) Before surrendering to the inevitable, I climbed up to the roof. The sun melted behind the rice fields while farmers moved slowly through the green, and butterflies and dragonflies staged a full-on ballet in my backyard. Next door, someone was building a stone house — a reminder that even here, creation never stops.

My villa’s exterior, entrance and views from the rooftop terrace overlooking the rice fields at sunset.

The Lifestyle

I unpacked only what I needed for the next few days — a ritual I’ve learned from traveling solo. If it’s not in my carry-on, it doesn’t matter until Day 3. A few dresses, my essential toiletries, and my favorite face oil — the one I made years ago when I couldn’t afford anything fancy but still wanted to feel luxurious. My skincare routine has become my meditation: a splash of water, a few drops of oil, and gentle affirmations in the mirror.

“You are not late. You are aligned.”

I fell asleep that first night without eating and woke up the next morning hungry enough to laugh at myself. For lunch, I rode down the street on a motorbike to my favorite comfort spot — L’Osteria. The kind of Italian place that always smells like truffle oil and garlic, and where the waiters remember your name. I ordered the mushroom risotto with truffle oil and watched tourists wander by as I caught up with my friend Ono, who works there.

It felt good to be back in conversation, back in connection. I realized it wasn’t family I’d been missing — it was community. Family doesn’t always mean support, but community should. And here, my kindness and light feel safe.

As I ate my risotto and laughed with Ono, my nervous system finally settled.

“You are home.”

Left to right: L’Osteria, Watercress Ubud, Otokafe, Anumana

The Intuitive Insight

That first day reminded me how much of my anxiety has always been tied to speed — the constant pressure to be doinginstead of simply being. I realized I didn’t come to Bali just to travel. I came to remember what peace feels like. And in that remembering, the island started to feel like home.

It hasn’t always been perfect. I’ve had to help people understand that I’m not an outsider to fear, but a friend to trust. That takes time. I’m not naïve; when people first see me, they see the color of my skin. Before I speak, they often assume I’m not friendly. But once I open my mouth, their faces soften.

“Your energy is so beautiful. Your smile is so kind. Are you always like this?”

I laugh. “No. It’s hard to be this way at home.”

In the U.S., kindness can feel like a penny: currency spent, undervalued, or taken advantage of. My loyalty has been mistaken for naivety more times than I can count. But Bali reminds me that openness isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom. Here, I’m learning that difference doesn’t have to divide us, it can teach us, if we’re both willing to grow past comfort.

Many of my neighbors now join my Saturday morning English class, where they practice conversation and confidence. I practice patience and presence. Somehow, we all leave a little lighter.

The message that day was simple:

“Stop chasing alignment. Stand still and let it find you.”

There’s a quiet kind of magic in letting life unfold without interference. I’m learning to trust that what’s meant for me won’t require a fight. Bali speaks that truth in its own language; through rain that softens the afternoon, the prayer call that drifts through the air, the laughter of old friends when I tell them I’ve returned, and the sound of my own breath when I finally sit still.

Me on Days 2 and 5

The Travel Notes

Where to Stay:
Pick a villa near the rice fields or close enough to town that you can walk to cafés, spas, and yoga studios. Walking here is the workout. The terrain is gentle, the pace unhurried, and the energy easygoing. Wander. Meander. Hell, even saunter. Hotels can be overpriced and loud, but a villa lets you wake up with the sounds of roosters and rain instead of lobby chatter. If you’re going to travel across the world, you might as well live like you’re here.

What to Expect:
Expect rain and consider it a blessing. Expect to wake early, eat fresh, and notice beauty everywhere. Expect to lose a few pounds without trying, simply by walking and sweating your way through the day. Expect strangers who smile like they’ve known you forever. And expect heat; real, wrap-around-you Hell hot heat. October here is no joke. Bring a hat. Buy a paper fan. Hydrate like it’s your new religion.

Tip:
Don’t overbook your first day. Meet Bali halfway. This island has its own rhythm, which is one that insists you rest, reset, and remember that life doesn’t have to be rushed to be full.

Choose Your Next Adventure

Now that you’ve landed and grounded, where will your spirit guide you next?

The Arrival: Grounding in Ubud