Blazing My Own Trail in Bali

After 36 hours of travel, the first challenge on my solo adventure to Bali was behind me — I had arrived! After a much-needed shower, I face planted into bed, exhausted from battling not only a 12-hour time difference but my anxiety as I anticipated the two-and-a-half weeks that lay ahead, and my incredible excitement and exhilaration that I was actually doing this. I would hardly call myself adventurous or a risk taker, but here I was on the other side of the world, in a foreign land with nothing familiar in sight.

For three months I have tried to find just the right words to describe my life-changing experiences in Bali, Indonesia last August and September. A friend suggested that instead of trying to do one post describing the trip in its totality that I break it up into the moments that have stayed with me. Starting today, I invite you to join me as I relive my adventures — from the small, quiet moments to the big, sweeping ones. Together they add up to new insights and a deeper sense of myself that I am honored to share.

I woke up early that first day to a cacophony of barking dogs and crowing roosters and decided, after some internal debate, to take the resort’s Estate Walk at 6 a.m. It had been a new kind of conversation with myself that went something like this: “Hey, Self. Holy cow! You are in Bali. By yourself. You really did this. I’m so proud of you. You are doing great despite being an utter nervous wreck. Self, you can stay in your room all day today — restoration could really serve you. Or you can get outside and take on the day. The one thing you know for certain is that you have no idea what awaits you. All you need to do is walk out of your hotel room and put yourself out there. The rest will fall into place.”

The self-talk was affirming, positive and loving and not my typical way of speaking to myself. I had found a friend within, and she couldn’t have shown up at a better time. The night before, I had been far more brutal with myself on the car ride from the airport when I couldn’t figure out the Balinese currency and just how much to tip the driver. The bills looked like Monopoly money and choosing one over another could have been the difference between a $1 tip and a $100 tip. I berated myself: “You should have memorized all of the bill denominations and their value on the plane instead of wasting your time watching ‘The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel’ and the first season of ‘New Girl’. What were you thinking? Cindy, this is not the time to make a mistake. You can’t appear cheap or stupid. You should have known better.” I picked incessantly at my cuticles for the first time in months as I tried to take in my lush yet impoverished surroundings.

Then the other voice took over, reassuring me it was ok to not tip right now, that I could get a tip to him later through the resort and that there would be time and people to help me learn the currency when I was well-rested and in a better frame of mind. I liked this new friend inside my head. She had more realistic expectations, and empathy. I was going to need her if I was going to survive this time alone.

At 6 a.m., I arrived at the start of the Estate Walk, which followed over 500 stepping-stones and stairs that line the perimeter of COMO Shambhala, from its highest point up in the jungle to the lowest point along the Ayung River. I walked behind the leader, Made, who was quick and nimble and all of 18 years old. I struggled to keep up with him, feeling pressure from the beautiful, athletic American girl with long eyelashes who followed behind me. I kept worrying I wasn’t going fast enough for her to have a good workout as I tried to push myself over the stones.

I had two realizations on that walk.

First: I’m far more comfortable and sure of my footing climbing up a mountain than down. Going downhill, I was tentative and uncertain. My legs felt shaky. I wanted to grasp the handrail for support, while I coached myself to take it slow. It was quite the opposite while climbing: I could go for miles despite the high humidity, my heart pounding and my legs feeling the exhaustion of the jet lag. It didn’t matter — the higher we climbed, the more comfortable and secure I felt. I chuckled to myself, thinking about astrology and how my sign of Capricorn is far more comfortable climbing than descending and maybe I was experiencing its influence on me.

My other big revelation on this early morning walk was that it’s tricky to feel comfortable walking in another’s path. While the stones were comforting in a psychological way — they defined and set the course for me to follow — they were also difficult to mind. Sometimes they were too close, forcing me to shorten my stride into baby steps; sometimes they were too far apart, and I had to leap to remain on the path. It was far more comfortable walking on the grass alongside the stone path, where I didn’t have to pay as close attention to what I was doing. I was free to look around, make choices as to where I wanted my walk to lead me, allowing for spontaneity and freedom of choice. It comes down to blazing my own path, which really is the only path. I appreciated this gentle reminder from Nature, who provides powerful metaphors for us when we are in tune, and the powerful kick-off to my Balinese adventure.