Chapter 1: The Final Countdown

In just three days, I will set off for Bali, with a brief stop in London. This marks the conclusion of a year-long journey. A year ago, I surrendered my life to the Universe, choosing to walk in faith and embrace whatever lay ahead. My previous attempts to control every aspect of my life had led to anxiety, stress, and an overwhelming sense of discontent. I realized something significant was missing and decided it was time to relinquish control and pay attention to my intuition and heart. After all, what did I truly have to lose besides my apartment, possessions, and a semblance of independence? (Insert laughter here—what else could I do?)

While reflecting on how this transformation began, I realize there isn’t a single event that sparked it. Rather, it’s been an accumulation of experiences that created this shift—an ending of a relationship, the impact of COVID, an assault, loss of self-worth, rising rents, moving homes, returning to school, and relocating again. It felt as if I was being guided by a higher power, merely going through the motions. A friend once advised me to "just do the next thing," and that became my mantra.

A year ago, during my previous trip to Bali, I visited a temple known as "Heaven's Gate," situated atop a mountain, seemingly floating among the clouds. To enter, one must cover shoulders and legs, receive a blessing from a Priest, and women on their period are prohibited from entering. It is an ancient and sacred site, frequently visited. The driver who took my friend and me stayed with us throughout the day, and on our return, my friend dozed off while I engaged the driver in conversation. As the sun set, I glanced out the window and saw silhouettes of people on the beach, watching the sunset. At that moment, I felt an electric jolt—something about that place resonated deeply with me. I quickly pinned its location on my phone, knowing I had to return. I didn’t understand why, but the feeling never faded.

Fast forward a year: I sold almost all of my belongings, stored the essentials, vacated my apartment, and moved in with a friend for the summer. My intention was to save money and search for another place, but therapy led my therapist to suggest I return to school, revealing that I could graduate in just three semesters with my existing credits. My friend’s unwavering support was invaluable; she offered me a fresh start at her condo in Florida, a gesture filled with love that I will cherish forever. Although Florida was never on my radar, it felt right, so I quit my job, packed my car, and drove to Florida just before the fall semester began.

Florida was a significant adjustment; I was unprepared for the homesickness I felt and how much I missed my friends and family. Making new connections was challenging, and much of my time was spent alone. Yet, despite the difficulties, it proved to be a beneficial experience. Reflecting on my time there brings fond memories, and my friend’s condo, infused with her personality, provided comfort and a sense of belonging.

Before leaving Florida, I sold my car—the last piece of my past—and serendipitously met someone who had just moved back to the Midwest and needed a second car driven from Florida to Minnesota. It’s amusing how the Universe operates when you choose to trust it. I packed up the car and drove to Wisconsin, stopping in Atlanta, all while juggling my spring semester finals.

In three days, I will board a flight to Bali. While searching for flights, I found one that fit my budget and included a stop in London—somewhere I’ve always wanted to visit. So, I decided to extend my journey and spend a few days there. If not now, when? After a few days exploring London, I’ll continue to Bali, where I only have the first week booked. Beyond that, my plans are uncertain. Typically, this uncertainty would induce significant stress and anxiety, but surprisingly, I feel calm and trust that I will know what to do when I arrive. I remain in touch with the driver from my Heaven's Gate visit, which brings me comfort, knowing I have a friend in Bali.

I’ve let go of my apartment, sold the majority of my belongings, and am stepping (mostly) fearlessly into the unknown. This past year has marked the end of one cycle and the dawn of another. I find it challenging to articulate my journey to loved ones, just as I struggle to understand it myself. I feel as if I’m being guided by the Universe, placing one foot in front of the other without knowing where it will lead. Perhaps I’ll end up with a case of Bali belly, a sunburn, and empty pockets—but at least I’m daring to take the leap of faith that inspirational quotes often talk about. If not now, then when?

Martin Luther King Jr. once said, "Faith is taking the first step even when you can't see the whole staircase." Right now, I can’t even see beyond the step I’m on, yet I continue to climb. In three days, I will gaze out the airplane window as we ascend above the clouds, and I’ll know I am one step closer to where this staircase is taking me—a new beginning.

As I prepare for this adventure, I invite you to join me in documenting my experiences along the way. Subscribe and follow my journey!