Mt Batur Sunrise Adventure

Darkness and almost-morning light on the horizon, headlights flash on jungle leaves, tires spin in dirt potholes, Wayan (my guide) tells me stories of his childhood runs up this mountain, selling “Coke-a-Cola” to hiking tourists. Almost every day of his life he has climbed this volcano by foot or by Jeep. Today, I’m his guest, my body flying up out of the passenger seat every few moments. I feel like I’m on the Indiana Jones adventure ride at Disney World. It’s surreal to realize this is the real deal. This is the Indian Jones adventure… not a ride…an actual road taking me to an actual destination. What fun! I can’t believe Wayan does this on the daily!


4am - I’m in the backseat of a car headed to Mt. Batur. 5am I’m in the front seat of a vintage 1980’s Jeep, bouncing to the summit of this volcano. It’s worth the early wake up. As Wayan parks the Jeep in the dirt, I climb out the back and the morning light is here!

Hundreds of humans wait on the hill of Mt. Batur, watching the light of day arrive slowly in pink and yellow. Multiple volcanoes on this island, all of them islands in the morning mist.


My feet dangle off the roof of the green Jeep and I sip hot Bali tea. Wayan brings me a breakfast tray; a boiled banana between two slices of white bread, a chocolate candy bar, a sulak aka snake skin fruit, and an orange. Perfect. It has me smiling. Wayan stands nearby taking pictures of me and eating his own local breakfast… it looks like a rice omelette on a banana leaf. He points to his stomach and says, “This is local breakfast. You don’t eat. It make you sick.” Honestly, I think I’m more likely to get sick from this processed white bread and a chocolate candy bar. Still, it’s all perfect.

Let’s be a tourist for a one time and pose for some wild pictures. I show off yoga poses, pretend to meditate and laugh with Wayan who clearly knows how to take pictures for his Instagram obsessed adventure guests. Haha!

I feel close to my parents up here. They love the mountains, the sunrise, the adventures, the local people, the memories in special places like this. These are the same trees my mom looked out at decades ago. She was here. Now I am here. Magic.

I hear the stories in my head, the stories of my childhood, the stories of my parents’ adventures in South East Asia. A jungle snake falls on dad’s shoulder in the jungle of Borneo. My mom jumps on the back of a scooter to escape a street full of cobras slithering out at warm twilight. The trees, the layers of green hues makes me feel my parents’ memories. My dad would love this view. Look at the textures of green! Look at the history in the rock!

We bounce down the mountain. Farmers are up with the day, spraying water on their crops. A little boy stand in the rice playing on a game boy. The green is vibrant! The earth is alive with nutrients here! Food!


These people live in the trees, right on the dirt, beside their plants, beneath the mountain. These mountain farmers are in a different world from the beach surfers and jungle yogis. These are the people I feel most familiar with I suppose. I grew up near farms and mountains. The beach, city and spiritual retreats have always been my wild adventure away from the beginning of my life. The mountain garden is the spirit in my roots.

Kids are going to school! I forgot school existed and seeing these mountain school buses, aka scooters, makes me shake my head in amusement and wonder. Three kids on a scooter, backpacks and little uniforms. What will they learn today? I’m learning with them today. Every time we turn a corner, we pass a gathering of school-bound scooters and pop-up markets, vegetables trading hands, mini bonfires for morning snacks. These mountain roads are a busy hive of rural human activity.


The village is behind us and now, sharp chunks of volcanic rock as far as the eyes can see in all directions. I hop off the hood of the jeep and walk deep into the lava dunes. I find a quiet spot and look around to make sure no one can see me. I’m shy and determined to film a music video here. This landscape is epic! I need epic! I feel tension to hide myself and I know this feeling. I must break free by letting go, letting myself go there, letting myself release the tension and melt into playful soft music and dance. Just enjoy the movement of the feeling leaving the body. Deep breath, look around, press record.

I play my new song on the iPhone and record myself singing and dancing along with the GoPro camera. Multi-tasking creative extravaganza in the lava field!!

I drop into flow state for a few minutes. Bliss. Experiencing my songs, feeling them out here, enjoying bringing them into the world, no stiffness in the body, just pleasure in flow. If you watch my music video and it feels good to watch, is it because you can see the freedom I feel? Am I showing you freedom in my music videos? or maybe just the journey towards freedom?

When my own creativity meets creation, this is my flow of happiness.
To create music videos, performing freely and playfully, in beautiful scenery… this is a joy! Pure joy as I allow art to flow through without holding back. I can feel the slightest holding back in my body. It hurts to hold back. My only options are hold back or let go. Which feels better? To let go, I first push which is also painful but the release follows. When holding back, it only gets tighter. So I push and it’s uncomfortable and then I’m free and it feels amazing. Smiles blossom with laughter.

After the lava field, I went to hot springs, a coffee plantation and a jungle top restaurant. Memories made. Music video on the way! First day of my birthday month…full of adventure! :)

Love and Sunrises, Cha Wilde

Limits of Stillness

I feel the itch for freedom. Ten days I’m in this big studio with these thirty people. Ten days I’ll be indoors when my favorite sun sets. Ten days I’ll be paying close attention, mind under control. Ten days I’ll let someone else guide me and I’ll follow. Ten days I let go of being a know it all and open my pores like a hungry sponge. Ten days I sit on the floor, sliding around on cushions and switch body positions every few minutes in search of comfort. Ten days I’m scribbling notes, golden statements I’ll return to in the future; perhaps they’ll be lyrics, perhaps you’ll hear me, dear student, speak them to you out loud while you stretch in your living room. Ten days I’ll eat in this gorgeous vegan gluten free cafe, please feed me the hood stuff!! What my body lighten up! Ten days I’ll remember how fun it is to run around the world doing whatever I want, creating art, teaching, playing, growing my business, messaging friends and followers. Ten days I’ll be mostly silent and my ears will tire from overwork. Ten days and I’ll learn more than I realize I’m learning. I’ll know later when it rebounds out of me, fully integrated. Ten days of belonging in my comfort zone, the yoga studio, amongst the yogis, the teachers, the healers, the space to be.


Fuck that was the hardest yin yoga class of my life. Three hours of stillness and slowness. It was painful for the mind as the body realized I was actually paying attention. Deeper and deeper my awareness sunk like an anchor into darkness. Twitching, breathing, flashbacks, crying, not moving, feeling through it, anger at the teacher, rebellion, revolt, swearing, surrender, releasing, giving it up, fighting back again, letting go again. This is my limit. I’ve never gone through stillness and silence like this before. It felt cruel. I did not want to be there. I fantasized for a moment.; I could stand up, walk out, just leave the mat on the floor, call a taxi to go straight to the airport and fly home. It is too difficult to be on the mat while I move through this emotional distress. I reached for protection, distraction, my pacifiers. Why am I doing this when I could be painting, writing, live-streaming, swimming, anything apart from looking straight inside myself in this never ending silence. I don’t want to keep looking at these memories. How much deeper does this go? How much more is there?

This yoga practice changed me forever. I know myself differently now. It altered and radically improved my relationship with myself, with my body. It opened a new line of communication from mind the body. This is what it means to slow down and be with myself. Actually. Fucking beyond intense. The hours eventually ended and I stormed out of the studio, angry and grateful. I moved into a deeper space inside myself.

There is light in the darkness of this somatic yin yoga practice. I love feeling my body with my hands, especially the texture and layers of tissue in the forearms. I open my eyes. Instead of cement, I see jungle trees. Instead of car traffic, I hear running water. Instead of alone, I sit in a group of yogis. Instead of Self-leading, I’m being led. I realize I’ve been focusing on what I don’t want to happen instead of focusing on what I would love to happen. I was prepared to be pushed and I suffered and when I was invited to flow freely and unleash, I finally arrived in the present moment, inside my body and suffering ended. I smiled and relaxed in sensual pleasure. Problems went away when I moved my body freely. I felt moved to love. Instead of staring intently at a drishti, my eyes are closed, I’m in the dark with myself the entire time, for hours. Hours in inner darkness. I’m so accustomed to the external world and the drishti turns my attention inward while maintaining awareness of surroundings. Now, the outside world doesn’t exist anymore because I’m fully inside myself and it’s pitch black dark in here. The eyes stay closed as all thirty of us drop deeper into soma, somatic awareness, our bodies, and we’re listening to watch the bodies are saying to us. The music helps me feel my way and not get lost in here.

I jolt, clench, cry and squirm, trying to turn away from the memories that have haunted me for years. In this deep pain I have neglected sensual movement, sexual pleasure, feminine self touch, dance, music, singing. It helped me to acknowledge what I have lost.

I lost my first husband.

I lost my second husband as I wanted him to be.

I lost my potential children.

I lost my grandma.

I lost my home.

I lost my best friend.

I lost my career when I switched to a new one.

I loved my beloved car.

I lost my privacy, my space.

I lost my yoga studio.

I still have my health.

I still have my friends.

I still have my parents.

I still have my skills and passions.

I still have my freedom.

I lost my peace.

This is all valid. Cry about it!

Rain Rain Rain and Writing

I am Wayan, the first born. Everyone here has the same names, names that indicate birth order. Seriously, everyone has the same names both men and women. Just a few names around and so many smiling faces. Like these two ladies smiling up a storm in the rain at The Yoga Barn….


I am holding back selling paintings. I want to display them in a show. To gather a full collection and then show them off together. I could sell them after that. I feeling grinding gears when I go to sell them through my online shop. The intuition or something says no. I just announced I would sell them now and still, I will trust and obey my intuition. I believe if I follow it on matters of business it will sing louder and clearer for me in all other areas of life, there for me when I need guidance. It is fair to say I am where I am right now because I followed my intuition again and again. Somehow it’s working well.

I’m practicing painting with green and studying the shapes of the leaves that surround me. I love the splashes of tropical pink and orange.

The men who are my lovers have made me feel alive in different ways. Alive in danger, alive in connection, alive in temptation, alive in creation, alive in presence. I am writing about them here. When The idea first occurred to me to travel to Bali it was bundled with the idea to write a book telling the love stories I’ve lived so far. This would be a healing project. I sense (again with the intuition) a deep need to express these experiences, to release them from repeat, drain them from my body into ink, so I may be a little lighter and my basket of journals will be a little heavier. I wonder how many pounds of ink I have written in my lifetime. — I am writing in a house that is completed hidden in the bushy palms trees, in the middle of a field surrounded by wet rice paddies. This is a picture of my house and you cannot even see the house. I am hiding inside that green jungle in the middle. I took this photo before the rain turned the sky moody grey.

From 1-4pm, the monsoon keeps me inside. I’m grateful. It means I sit down and type. I get work done while the rain pours. It’s ridiculous to even try going outside. The roads are empty. Humans clear way for the falling rivers. Around 5pm the roads, now damp, are swarmed by humans, beeping scooters and crawling car traffic. Rush hour hits and smoke fills the air. Fires are grilling meat along the sidewalks; skewers of chicken.

It’s impossible to escape the rain. Even when I shower the rain is participating…inside the house. The open roof bathroom is lovely and it makes me skin crawl with fear of bugs touching my hand if I reach up to scrub my hair or snails sliming onto my shoulder if I recline in a bath. For me, an outdoor bathtub is too exposed in the jungle. For at least a 10min shower it would be relaxing to be cut off from the outside elements, to soap up my body without wondering if a giant spider is somewhere nearby. It’s the wondering and looking under the table, under the pillow, under the shower curtain, inside the toilet paper roll…it’s the wondering that keeps me on edge.

It would be nice for just one moment to know with confidence the bugs could not touch me. Perhaps, I’lol pay a little extra to visit a fancy modern sanitized spa in the city center today where bugs are less present and the only creature enjoying the comforts is me.

Love and Rain,

Cha Wilde

Balinese Massages, Groceries and Visa Extensions

September 27, 2022 • Ubud, Bali

Hello my faraway loves. I miss sharing days with you. I wake up in your future and I fall asleep as you open your eyes. I’m experiencing for the first time the feeling of being truly far away from home. Until now my greatest time difference form home and family has been 10hrs; still living in the same day, the sun is just in a different part of the sky. Now, my loved ones live in the past, a full day behind me. I say good morning and goodnight in the same breath. This is the most distant and disconnected I’ve ever felt from them, truly divided by the size of the glove. There is a small, somewhat inconvenient, window of time in which we are both awake to share our stories and smile into each other’s voices. Voice messages are left for later listening and life, my day in their future, goes on alone. I feel compassion for a human in a distant space, light years away from home planet, months of travel between here and there, and a love string strong enough to hold the two people in two places together.

I stare at feet. Their toes are beautifully aligned with the foot. Healthy spread out wide foot bones that have never been bound is shoes. Bare soles on the earth and flipping free in sandals these Balinese feet walk by me on the street happy as feet can be.

I received a traditional Balinese massage for the first time today. Before the massage my feet were bathed in a bowl of water with floating rose petals. During the massage I stared down through the face hole at a stone bowl filled with plumeria flowers) and appreciated the Balinese feet walking barefoot on the stone floor around me. She stood on the table and pressed firmly into my softening body. With my ears closed in deepening relaxation I prayed and asked why I am here. I kept hearing these words repeat in my head… “Receive receive receive.” After the massage, I floated out into a warm air, blissful, and slowly sipped the ginger tea and nibbles fresh papaya.




Two weeks of restaurants and I’m thrilled to be cooking for myself again. “Bintang”, the local grocery store in the old magical jungle part of Ubud carried so much variety, many brands I recognize from home and only one thing on my shopping list was not ticked off… protein powder. Their health food / supplements aisle was nonexistent. My fitness routine is on rest mode. Fresh fruit a plenty! Bali grown chocolate, coffee, tea, banana chips…. it all grows right here!




Beside the supermarket is an exquisite cafe shop called “Dharma”. This fancy coffee health food boutique store broke my a big 100,000 IDR bill when I purchased a square of ”Ubud Raw” chocolate. I nibbled the rich dark sweetness on the sidewalk while I waited for my scooter driver to arrive.

The scooter ride home through the jungle air was warm, soft and relaxing…scooters are a highlight of my day because I get to soar through the wind and let go of control for a moment. On this particular ride, I held a bag of vegetables in my lap with that raw chocolate half chewed in my back pocket. I was dropped of and ran straight into the house to cook a simple dish… fried onions, potatoes and egg…smooshed inside a halved avocado that’s filled with hummus.

Now I’m kicking up my feet on the balance listening to jungle bugs and frogs, half finished paintings on the floor. Also, today I applied for a visa extension so I’ll be spending at least another month in Bali! I paid extra to have a travel agent take care of the paperwork for me. Total cost for expedited agency assisted visa extension: 1,300,000 IDR — the process normally takes 8 business days. I paid extra to have it done in 3 because they take your passport away from you and I want to keep it on my person, never separated from it. So to send it away to the immigration office for 3 days vs 8 days made it worth the express fees. When I’m traveling, that passport is my ticket home so it’s my most precious possession…that and my ticket and money. “Passport, ticket, money.” My parents might as well have tattooed this phrase on my body at birth. Every time I leave home a little further than the usual distance, I hear my dad’s voice singing this little mantra. “Passport, ticket and money!” — everything else you can buy when you get there. It’s really all you need.

Love & Rainbows, Cha Wilde

At My Own Pace

Naked beneath the giant palms, eye level with the ants, sweat on the surface of my skin as I moved through my first yoga practice in Bali. I listen and hear the wind in the leaves, a woman sweeping, birds chatting, a scooter down an alleyway. Equatorial squirrels are bouncing between the skinny trees. I’m curious what’s beyond the pink plant-hugged walls of my villa.

A thought that came to me while walking down Kuta Beach… Within the art of making music is knowing when to allow silence. Within the art of photography is knowing when to put down the camera. Within the art of writing is knowing when to stop using words to tell the story. Within the art of teaching is knowing when to learn. Within the art of living is knowing when to listen and how to let go.


The theme of my day as I wandered…What is the most beautiful thing I can see right now? Steer the mind towards beauty. Can I find beauty with my eyes? I find it with my nose inside a plumeria now. I find it on my ankles in the wave. My ears notice the wind; it’s everywhere in this little jungle maze.

I am allowed to move at my own pace. That means if I take five hours to get ready, that is perfect and nothing needs to change. As I slow myself down, I am meeting myself for the first time in many years. I actually don’t remember the last time I moved at my own pace. There has always been someone else to keep up with or someone dragging along.

Traveling alone yet I still feel the anxious keeping-up energy, a memory stored in my body. I “should be doing something” — I should go sign up for that surfing lesson like my girlfriends, ride that horse like mom, hit on that cute girl like my husband, book a tour like mom, hike that mountain like my marathon-running friends, party in sparkles at the beach club like my rave girlfriend. I could do all the things everyone else in my life would do. I can turn off this go-go-go energy. My yoga teachers call out instructions faster than I can keep up with. When deadlines show up at work, I feel time pressed into me. What if I let it all go and actually move as slowly as I need to in order to cultivate a vibe of bliss?

I’m not interested in time. I don’t need to know what time or day it is. Please put the clocks away from me. I’m very content right here and now. I don’t want to just do something, I want to sit here. Sit here to write and paint, to breath and listen and feel with every single sense I have available, to just be inside my body, a fully alive experience of this moment…this is what I love most…in addition to the thrill of riding on the back of scooters, just get the wind on my skin! The wind washes the energy around the body…blow away bad thoughts.

“We’re not here to fuck spiders,” — Australian men taught me this expression at a Finn’s beach club. It means “we’re not here to fuck around”.

Now I’m thinking about spiders… Everybody moves faster than me, jumping onto the activities like hungry spiders who can’t sit as still as me. I’m on my web of my life. The good tasty shit comes to me. I’m so slow it actually pains other people to be around me. They can’t stand it. They want to seize the day while I’m already holding it. So for years I’ve just moved faster to move at their speed and I am exhausted in this abandonment of myself. No worries though, I’m out here now breathing slowly knowing I never have to go back to rushing. I can continue to make life choices that feel good and fit my body’s deep, slow, steady rhythm.

So now, I sit with my feet in this delicious teal pool, in a pink villa with evening sunshine sparkling through sage green palms. Leave me here for awhile until inspiration strikes me and I’ll move onto my next magical experience.

Love & Rainbows, Cha Wilde

Watch this chapter of my journey come to life in a video — the raw footage from my iPhone is edited into a mini movie! The vlogs are 20-30min episodes so you can come with my on my adventures, see behind the scenes of my creations and listen to my playful monologues and teachings that get thrown into the mix. Become a studio member and you get access to all my travel vlogs.

First Three Hours in Bali

Tell me about your first 3 hours in Bali.

There’s a mosquito on my wall. Does it carry malaria? Will I kill it? I never kill mosquitos. I am friend to life. It seems unwise to choose the bug over myself tonight though. Can I kill in love and peace? Can I escort him/her outside? Oh dear, I’m faced with dilemma; safety and values. Perhaps I’ll pray for this tiny significant creature. Yes, I said significant.


I am comfortable here and I have been from the moment I stepped off the plane and entered the airport. The town of Seminyak was alive tonight with young humans learning how to drink and tasting freedom for the first time. Sitting in the back of Kadek’s van with tinted windows I look out at the blonde girl sitting on the curb refusing to stand up, the loud singer with the almost cheesy deep voice at the club razzling more than dazzling the travelers with classic rock songs. “These guys are all the way from Zimbabwe!” she calls as we drive away through hundreds of parked scooters. A scooter zips by and the woman on the backseat, blissfully drunk, squeezes her driver’s waist tighter and lays her cheek on his shoulder. She looks like she’s in one of those moments, the one where you feel like you’re the main character in the movie and you’re in love with him. I think I watched her sigh of happiness in a millisecond because then she and her whole life were gone to me.

Two young men walked down the street, close to my car a little wobbly, eyes glossed over, probably hoping to meet girls tonight and it’s already too late.

2am arrives with me at this pink villa, giant palms and twinkle lights, a breeze up above in the leaves and a little lizard just skirted up the wall. I’m tucked away behind many walls and security guards, far away now from ruckus nightlife.

My nervous system is a little shaken and stirred by over 48hrs of travel and so many new faces. I make friends easily and on the flight alone I collected six new people, all of whom I could easily reach out to now. One man invited me to the temples and another two men invited me to their private villa where they have a butler, private chef and driver. They also invited me to the utterly amazing beach clubs. Two girls, both living the van life back in the USA, suggested we meet up one night. Another woman said she would be following my journey. My driver, Kadek, promised to take me to the spring water to meditate with him and cleanse our bodies. My extroverted parts are invigorated and grateful I can connect with people so easily and quickly. My introverted parts are longing for solitude and anonymity.


A part of me feels cautious to be swept up into other peoples energy and plans. She reminds me why I have come here. She reminds me to be in my own energy and move at my own pace. Friends are wonderful opportunities into new adventures and also, I need so much time alone. I am easily overstimulated. I dive into quiet hours to write, paint and practice yoga and meditation. She asks me to honor my me-time and my creation time before signing up for all the enticing activities on this island.


I asked my driver if he does yoga. He seemed to say no and yes. No, he doesn’t go to the classes. Yes, he is always meditating and praying throughout the day, after his walks. His energy is beautiful and calm, at peace with himself and nature…just as I’d hoped he would be, just as I hope all humans will be.

The strict yoga practices are breaking me, breaking my old patterns. I’ve subscribed to these practices for over a decade, deepening my need for reflection and stillness overtime. Try easy. Don’t try so hard. What would happen if you just relaxed and allowed it to flow however feels good? Relax relax relax. Maybe in the relaxation I’ll find love.


A part of me is all business. She feels fear of not making enough money. She remembers the terrible feeling of financial stress. She reaches for money and falls out of alignment. I will spend time with her now to understand her fear and comfort and update her. I’ll invite her to join me in this present moment. We are not worried about moneys we do not worry about anything. We  are full of beautiful gifts to play with and our skills are valuable and fun to share. She will realize she can live free of fear and fully empowered. I feel this part of me, a young woman, tight in my chest, unrelenting. She deserves a huge hug of appreciation for working so hard to protect me and getting me this far. I want her to know now that she is able to rest and that the more she rests into love the more successful she’ll be in everything else she approaches.


I write all this, looking out glass doors at the palms and pink walls; a private patio and I visualize myself filming a yoga class there. I am here to create in beauty and peace. And now I must sleep.

Love & Rainbows, Cha Wilde

PS: A part of me wants to share that I’m choosing to type these thoughts and share them publicly when normally I would write by hand and keep my journals tucked away on a shelf for my eyes only. For months though, this writer part of me has been craving to share her words, daydreaming of publishing all that flows through her. I’m approaching these blog posts just like journaling. I write freely, don’t go back and read or edit. It feels risky and vulnerable to click publish immediately after writing, not even allowing a day to reflect. I’m experimenting with this very exposed way of storytelling and expression. This part of me wants to be appreciated for her courage to share and forgiven for any statements that are confusing, poorly written or unkind in anyway. She appreciates you reading with an open mind and letting it all go. All of these are just passing thoughts. thank you.

Letting Go Of Everything

What did/do you need to let go of to go on this adventure?

God, so much. Prepare for a brain dump, free flow and no take backsies.

I had to let go of the safe space, the creative womb and familiar patterns of life in my Seattle studio.

I moved into that space in 2020, mid-quarantine, and it was my refuge from trauma at home…it became a home when I felt like I didn’t have one. I constructed a nest of pretty things and called this giant room “The Treasure Box”. I felt safe here and I have had to let go of the physical space while holding the feeling of safety within me. That’s really what I learned here; how to embody safety. I am safe. I am safe for my parts, for myself, for others. I am a safe space. Before I held that safety within, I drew it from my environment, from this studio. I am letting go of the training wheels. I move out into the world carrying safety inside me.

“Be proud of yourself.” These were the last words my studio spoke to me before I closed the door. We blessed each other.

I am letting go of that space being mine. I am letting go of “mine” in general. I have given away many objects that also brought me comfort and meaning.

I am letting go of my husband being “mine” to control. I am letting go of the outcome of where our paths lead us. I am letting go the expectations and hopes I have held for what our relationship could look like. I am letting go of the lifestyle I lived in Seattle with him over the past couple years; a strong routine in a one room studio, living on top of each other and commuting to my studio through the rough part of town. I am letting go of the tension that has built up in my body from this lifestyle, the body armor I have built in to protect myself and survive.

I am letting go of my dream to perform music, to work in an indoor painting studio, to own my own yoga studio, to be a photographer; all careers that have tugged on me with passion. I’ve dabbled and dove deep and this new dream I explore now; the one in which I’m a traveling yogi artist has got me signed up.

I’m letting go of my comfort zone to try this new thing beyond my familiar territory.

I’m letting go of looking perfect and controlling my business and allowing it to evolve intuitively as I move my body around the wide world.

I’m letting go of being close to my friends and family for a while. I’m letting go of all the years, seven years, I have been in this chapter of life with these people — seven years of parties, festivals, polyamory, falling in love, learning how to play music, building businesses, facing fears and learning how to heal. I am letting go of needing to know whether I will have kids or not, letting go of needing to decide that right now.

I am letting go of the epic view out my window of the Olympic Mountain range and the tall ceilings that reminded me how to take up space.

I am letting go my dream to be a DJ and my dream to work in an LA music studio as a producer. I am letting go of the belief that I need a fancy studio to make me a legitimate artist. I let go of the idea that people only respect me because of my impressive studio.

I let go of feeling stuck in one place because of my work. I let go of feeling stuck. I let go of stuckness; believing I’m stuck.

I let go of the fear that I’ll never travel the world. I let go of needing everything to be perfect before I go.

I let go of my daily routines that make me so strong and healthy. I let go of my day needing to roll out a certain way.

I let go of being a spoiled princess, entitled, complaining whenever she has to do something she doesn’t feel like doing; chores. I let go of living as though I’m above chores and draining tasks. I let go of being superior.

I let go of comparing my partners to other people and holding them to such high standards of excellence that I actually separate and judge them. I let go of believing I am separate and superior. I let go of searching for problems. I let go of needing everything to go my way and do it the way I have done it.

I am letting go of the limiting belief, the traumatic memory, of being trapped. I let go of the repeating words in my head; “I desperately need to escape and be free, that need space and to be in my own energy and move at my own pace”. I let go of the cycle and step into the present moment in which I am free to be anywhere in Self.

I am letting go of my clinging to Davey; my codependent parts looking to me now to care for them. I am letting go of the limiting belief that I will be rescued and that someone more perfect than the lover before will whisk me away on a grand adventure to change my life into something new. I let go of all that. Now, (for the first time?) I am taking myself in an adventure.

Love & Sunsets, Cha Wilde

Final Days in Seattle Before Bali Adventure

What feels important to share right now?

It is possible to be free and happy. All of us who inspire you where once standing where you are. Where you are is the beginning of the journey to where you wish to go. So declare your desire to be independent, to be seen, to expand into what else is out there beyond.

What is your most memorable moment of today?

Watching the sunset from multiple lookout points around Queen Anne while eating food with Ivy. The sun was hot red begins the wildfire smoke. I realized I have the humans in my life now who I’ve been waiting for; humans who want to walk the hills at sunset while revealing our secret histories, discussing new therapy methods and reflecting with laughter on how silly humans are. I enjoyed a sunset beside another woman who loves adventure, sensuality, freedom, healing and magic.

What are you going to do in Bali?

I hope to be carried down the stream of life. I have a few dots on the map of places I can steer myself to with painting supplies and a yoga mat; the cliffs of an exotic beach, the river paddies and the temple. Apart from that, I plan to return my soul to the rhythm of a balanced life, moving at my pace, guided by intuition, devoted to my simple routines. I intend to wake up and feel with all my senses and remember myself in the present moment, practicing non-attachment to whatever has happened and what will come. In Bali, I am showing up to meet Bali wholeheartedly in the heart and now, please change me as I need to be changed, hold me as I release whatever I thought was mine but actually isn’t and fill me up with the purest energy my body can hold at this stage in my evolution. If nothing else, please take my breath away for a moment when you show me the most beautiful sunset of my life. I’m going to Bali for the sunsets, the magic and to woman I am to become. She will meet me there.

What’s inside your comfort zone now that used to be outside your comfort zone?

I’m selling paintings now. I sold these four this week and shipped them off today. I like to write cute descriptions on the back of the frames. I was so attached to each painting as if it were my baby. I couldn’t bare to part with them until I found collectors that cherished them even more than I do. I stacked them in the corner of the studio. In their new homes they hang proudly on the wall inside frames. Sold they are more appreciated. I was just clinging. Now I enjoy more freedom to create and release. Also traveling (to Asia) alone was beyond my comfort zone and now, with help from friends who fanned my courage, I leave for Bali on Monday. I also used to be afraid to singing in public or even around the house if others might hear me. Now I sing all day without even realizing it. I used to be afraid of skinny dipping and now it’s hard to get me to wear clothes at the beach, at the festivals, in the house, on the internet lol I like the feeling of growth, witnessing my limits move out.

Love & Rainbows, Cha Wilde