The rush of a waterfall, a fresh mountain breeze. Lush green rice paddies, the fragrant smell of jasmine. Fiery sunsets and serenity. Memories of Bali wash in and out, like the gentle lapping of a calm morning beach.
Two years ago I flew to Bali to escape the insanity of my life in Korea. Expecting only a beach vacation, I found so much more in the most cliché of ways. I soul-searched; I ate copious amounts of gelato; I floated in the warm, crystalline waters and—that’s right, I’ll admit it—went all eat-pray-love status. I finally released the bitterness I’d been harboring for years from a broken heart and returned home feeling a little lighter, a little freer.
Now, exactly two years to the day later, I’m returning to Bali, seeking to experience its magic once again. Only this time, I’m staying for two months. I’ll be volunteering at a sustainable land use project, meeting up with a handsome guy, reconnecting with quite a few old friends from around the world, and then traveling with my parents for three weeks. It’s one of the parts of my trip I’ve been most excited about and it’s hard to believe it’s nearly here.
This time I’m at a very different place in my life and I’m not seeking to mend anything. But I’m always trying to grow, evolve, and progress as a person and I sense that Bali is, once again, going to have a profound impact.
And even if it doesn’t, it’s going to be a hell of a lot of fun.
Today’s Related Post: Bali’s Magic and How I Got My Groove Back