Sept 22, 2022 - Ubud, Bali
MONKEY FOREST, EXPLORING TOWN ON FOOT
I feel the rush to do many things again and the desire to stay.
I love living on a footpath between houses. It reminds me of my homes in Scotland; old small towns built before cars. The roads only need be wide enough for a couple human legs. I found more human sized alleyways in the jungle. I see now the entire town was build into the trees, little streams running between blossoming trees and bananas. Rice paddies are hidden behind buildings that look abandoned but may very well awaken at dinner time.
I walked morning steps through the Monkey Forest. My hair is barely washed on this trip. I love looking salty and wind blown. Uluwatu felt relaxing and quiet despite the incessant roar of the ocean and surfer chit chat. A couple days in Ubud and I I miss the mighty cliffs above the ocean. Ubud feels like a city, overwhelming me with tourists, vendors, vehicles. A part of me feels threatened to be in a town of yogis, pressured to take challenging yoga classes. Am I comparing myself to these fellow yogis, judging them, wanting to be different, rather than just melting in with love and shared interest? I’ve always been a little hesitate to dive into the social group. I like to watch first and make a gentle entrance…apart from those times when I cannon ball in with confidence. I fluctuate through each month and I’ve arrived in Ubud during the week when solitary energy rules me.
I feel resistance to selling my Bali paintings. They feel special; memories from my trip. All the more reason to share, I believe. My desire to write is rising. I feel so deeply centered when I am writing. I want to feel more space in my creation and it feels good to work with structure. Too much loose time and I am lost. In travel, so much is constantly new and changing so structure in my work and creative process is naturally declaring itself a priority for progress and sanity. My voice feels quiet in Bali. Am I being respectful, blending in to not offend, keeping to my self for deeper reflection, closing my lips to open my ears and listen? Whatever the reason, being so silent feels so good right now.
In Seattle, I feel a need to fix people around me, to evangelize my beautiful ways. In Bali, nobody needs my fixings. It is not my place to change them. What is there to change?
I want peace and freedom for my friends. I want rich deep life for them.
A part of me feels judgmental. She wants to make sure I live a fun life. She sees the parts of me who love being still, writing these stories in a cafe and she whispers, “You should be going white water river rafting.” She sees me digging my feet into the sand, playing with the feelings on my skin, and she whispers, “You should be taking a surfing lesson.” She sees me riding on the back of a scooter in utter bliss, eye closed, head thrown back, ecstacy in danger and wind, and she whispers, “You should rent a scooter so you can be the one driving,.” She sees me resting and she insists that I go workoout, take a yoga class, jump on a jungle swing. She wants me to live a life like my mom, full of adventure and thrill. I am grateful for this part of me because she is protecting my aliveness. She is looking out for me, making sure I stay active and stepping beyond my comfort zone. And I am showing her each day that there is space to do it all. She am building a trust with her. I take her on wild adventures and ask her to sit back and watch how happy my other parts feel when they get to be slow, safe, and reflective. The fast speed is more thrilling and fulfilling when balanced well with slow moments. There is room for both. I feel into my depths and find presences. From my depths I teach, create and lead. From this depth grows the sparkling playful joy and courage so I may fully enjoy those wild crazy adventures up on the surface.
My work is beautiful and yet, I can feel bored in it. I take so many photos and videos (it’s nuts), more than I can handle. When it comes to sharing them with you, it hurts me to choose. It hurts to delete and clear space on the devices. It hurts to let go and lose. In doing so, I create space. My work is constantly inviting me to let go, to release. To create and sell, publish, share, is a constant exercise in giving away when often I feel the urge to hoard and hide. Creating and sharing everyday keeps me open, I’m holding myself in the shape of a river bed, the flow of life can move through me more powerfully like this. And if I feel bored… my healer promises me it is my nervous system recalibrating itself. After years of stress and forcing, my body is learning what safe and security feels like. Parts of me are resisting this settling, afraid life will never be fun again. This is perhaps my biggest lesson in Bali so far…I am safe and it is okay to feel safe. I am moving through a veil of boredom as I learn to accept safety in my body. I am at home wherever I go now.
Love & Rainbows, Cha Wilde