Lombok, Indonesia: Part 7

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There are the rare nights that are pure.

When the fish falls off the bone and you eat rice with your fingers.

When the coconuts are fresh and tangy.

The conversation bright and lively with the local couple.

When the sea is a moody beautiful beast.

When our world is right, just as it is.

-We spent the day driving around on our moped, feeling the smooth rode beneath us.

Monkeys jumping in the tree’s and cows lazily sleeping by the road.

We  explore cliffs and black sand beaches.

It was one of those days for the books.

Lombok, Indonesia: Part 6

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Most of the time while I travel I want to be doing something, anything.

But right here, while the boat is zooming through the water.

With sun burnt shoulders,

Misted cheeks,

and my love by my side,

I sat and did absolutely, pure, beautiful nothing!

And it felt gooooooooooooooooooooooooooood!

Ubud, Indonesia: Part 5

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List it:

1: Drinking lime and mint smoothies with bunnies sleeping under foot.

2: Rhine of a fruit that looks like a cobra skin.

3: The beautiful birds hanging in the doorways of homes. Especially the finches.

4: Ginger tea in the morning with my fried noodles.

5: Walls of pumpkin orange and grey concrete.

6: Thatched huts nestled among palm tree’s.

7: Saffron by the kilo. Oh the taste of saffron.

8: Mopeds coursing through the streets like ants running to their hill.

9: The way the water felt after all the humid hours of walking.

10: The chaos of sight that feeds me.

Sanur, Indonesia: Part 4

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 The corn was magic. Absolutely covered in salt and spice. But the way it melted and burned and tasted was magic.

The sea was as crisp as could be. He had never stood in an ocean so blue and wonderous.

I meandered away collecting trinkets that the waves had left me.

Heart shaped shells of all colors.

We walked and walked and walked and eventually I needed coffee and carvings so we ditched the crystal clearness and took to the streets.

I found this amazing little guy carved out of a cows bone. He was beautiful with ancient symbolize and designs on his clothing.

He made me feel like I was a kid again looking in the library at all those Egyptian books or national geographic magazines, expect I was there, RIGHT THERE,  holding it in my own two hands.

Now he sits in our bed room next to the deer antlers from our wedding and the prayer beads he recieved while living with the Navaho tribe.

It feels natural and perfect.

The opposite of depression isn’t happiness.

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Vitality is my word.

I am committing to it.

It is about coming home to my body.

Living in it.

Fully

Perhaps for the first time EVER.

Embodying it, I guess you could say.

It’s all about knowing what has happened to it.

Accepting it.

Not just GETTING OVER IT, like they want me too.

Not just ignoring IT,  like I so desperately desire.

It’s about cultivating a home in my bones.

A place that I feel safe and peaceful in.

My body is a place of Vitality.

It will no longer be a foreign land to me.

I will choose to not  sulk, or wallow in it.

I am going to dance in it’s light as well as in it’s shadows.

I am wide open.

Ready for the rush of choosing my own path.

The opposite of depression isn’t happiness.

The opposite of depression is VITALITY.

THIS is MY FRESH START >>>——————>

Bali, Indonesia: Part 3

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I wanted to hold them, their wiry bodies so much like our own.

Those rascals whom snatch at tourists bags and fight over tiny bananas.

Watching them swing in and out of branches like wind.

Mothers cradling their babies.

Babies chewing on rolled grass like dope.

Oh and the wild wisdom that seems sunken into their eyes.

*Another encounter with the animal kingdom in Bali.

It was magic.