The joy of exploring the world is back and I couldn’t be happier. I wrote my first travel journal in April of 2024. At the time, I hadn’t yet realised what travel represented for me. It was a momentary joy that came and then disappeared, leaving me with a version of myself that no longer felt right. As if I had found my soul and carried her with me, forced to leave her at the Australian border when I re-entered. I’ve spent the last 15 months searching for her. Throwing myself into new conversations, cute cafes, a university library, wondering why I’m surrounded by people but still feel alone. Then came the pull, and I found her on the back of a Balinese man’s scooter riding through Ubud’s rice fields, helmet over my eyes, holding on for dear life. Welcome to my travel journal (part 3).

Bali

I was so focused on getting my carry-on suitcase down to 7kg that I hadn’t prepared myself for what was waiting for me in Bali. The Yoga Barn — a tropical tree-filled sanctuary that echoed with human connection and spiritual awakening. On my second day, I met Helene — a gorgeous, sun-kissed Norwegian with eyes as blue as icy fjords. Every time I opened the door to our female dorm, she peeked her head over the side of her bed with the biggest smile. On her last night, we walked through the balmy streets of Ubud and sat and ate chicken sate, sharing stories of overprotective parents, a longing to see the world, failed relationships, new sparks. She reminded me what that all-too-familiar subtle ache felt like — the possibility of a soul-warming friendship, separated only by distance. But what’s one more long-distance friend?

Over the course of my week in Bali, I kept seeing groups of people doing lifts in the Yoga Barn courtyard. Like, Dirty Dancing kinda lifts. One of my friends told me it was called acro yoga and that I’d love it. I rocked up to a class that afternoon, and I knew it within the first few minutes — acro yoga set my soul on fire. Without conscious thought, I volunteered to demo with Meg, a girl who’d bought a one-way ticket to Bali from the US, ready to start her new life. I won’t forget the moment that held us — her hips resting on my flexed feet in the air, our hands grasped together. She looked into my eyes and I knew all of her, without knowing her at all.

Being myself

I used to think we could create ourselves. As if we’re a blank canvas, and not invisible ink waiting to be uncovered. As hard as I’ve tried, I’ll never understand maths or have the desire to stay still. I know that finding what we want and what we love can take a lifetime. But every time I find her — that version of myself that feels right — I get a little closer to understanding. My body softens and opens without me realising. And no matter where I am in the world, I know I’ll keep searching for the spaces where my soul comes back to me. The spaces that match my internal rhythm. The spaces that make me squeal out loud when I’m alone because I am so excited to leave the house. If I’ve learned anything in 27 years, it’s this — keep searching until you find where you belong.

Yours,

Kait x

Cover photo by Justine