I had so much anticipation about traveling to Bali by myself. How would I feel to be back in this place that held me so many years ago? Would I be flooded with memories? Would I go back in time and feel the rawness and vulnerability of my younger self? Sometimes, the anticipation is so much scarier than the unfolding.

I left Boulder on May 28th, and I felt energized and empowered traveling across the world by myself. There was a freeness to being in my own flow and was surprised how much I liked it. When I stepped off the plane in Bali, it was as if I had come home. I walked through customs and saw the familiar sight of the airport and felt the visceral feeling of Bali with its dank smells, thick humid air and gentle, smiling faces around me. I expected to feel transported into the past, hand in hand with Brian, wide eyed and naive, but instead I felt strong and capable and fully present. I kept looking for my grief or the remembrance of my previous journey, but instead I simply felt at peace and excited about my adventure.

As we drove through the chaotic streets approaching Ubud and continued to the outskirts of town where it became quieter and less crowded, I found myself searching for a memory or a feeling of Noah’s presence. My arrival at Soulshine, the magical retreat center owned by Michael and Sara Franti, was exactly in alignment with what I remembered about Bali. I was greeted with an authentic, joyful and almost revenant welcome. As I walked into the reception area (which they lovingly call the Living Room), I was welcomed home and invited to make a wish in the wishing well with a beautiful flower to set an intention for my time in Bali. From this moment, I felt the intention, love and care that every detail of my experience has been steeped in since I arrived at Soulshine. I have never felt such genuine care before, where everyone knows your name and smiles with a joy that comes from within.

This is what I remembered through the fog of my grief the most about Bali. The kindness. The smiling people.

I spent my first few days in the oasis of Soulshine - tending to myself, swimming in the infinity pools, nourishing myself at the spa, and spending time with the staff who were quickly becoming friends. As I acclimated to the weather and time zone enjoying some alone time before my retreat participants arrived, I kept looking for my grief. I talked about Noah to my newfound friends. I shared the meaning behind leading this retreat. I was surprised by how ok I was. Where was my emotion? Where was Noah? I didn’t feel him anywhere. What I felt instead was the lovely, overwhelming presence of my daughter, Hannah, who I conceived in Bali 16 years ago. Her gentle presence filled my dreams and made me smile. I didn’t feel any pain or constriction around my heart. This isn’t what I had expected..

My anticipation melted away as each participant arrived and shared in my delight and gratitude for the warm welcome and wild beauty and grace of Soulshine. From our very first circle, it was on. The group dropped right in and the intentional yoga shala with its magnificent views of the rice fields and jungle with artistic touches everywhere, set the tone for going deep and meeting ourselves with loving kindness. The energy here is big. The work here is accelerated. I found myself so touched by each person in our circle that tears flowed down my cheeks. The beauty and kindness this place exudes opened a door for me to do my work too.

After our morning circle yesterday, I was looking at a map of Ubud to take the group on an adventure to explore the market and Palace in Ubud. I felt a sharp pain in my heart as I saw the name Cafe Wayan on the map. I heard myself gasp. The world stood still for a moment and I felt my body contract with the pain of remembrance. This was our spot many years ago. We ate many meals at this cafe. We had come here to find Wayan the healer who held me on her lap and rocked me like a small child telling me I would be ok and offering herbs and magic with a confidence that scared me. Something cracked open, a doorway into my past, and it all came rushing back in vivid detail. In the seat of facilitator, I couldn’t let it out. I couldn’t allow myself to become uncontained. Not yet. Not here. I took a deep breath and gathered myself and promised my emotions that I would revisit them and feel them all the way soon. But not now.

However, as spirit often facilitates, the grief that I had touched needed to come out now. On my way walking back to my room down the slippery wet steps, I looked up to return the kind smile of a passing man and lost my balance and fell. I went down hard. I hurt my foot to the point where I couldn’t walk. The gentle man walked me back to my room and helped me to lay down on my bed.

Once he left, the floodgates opened and my grief came raging out of me. My foot hurt so bad and I crumbled into a ball, feeling so small and vulnerable, all alone in a foreign place surrounded by stairs and jungle and the opportunity to feel my memories of Bali. It came in flashes of color. Moments. People. Places. Smells and conversations. I was transported back in time to the culture itself, but mostly to being there with Brian. I cried for myself and for my husband. I cried for all of the childless mothers and fathers who have to go on and live without their children. As I allowed my emotions to pour out of me, I felt a tension I had been carrying begin to leave me too. I spent the rest of the day alone. My foot elevated with ice, patched with a Chinese herbal remedy, empowered by my ability to care for myself. I was doing it. I was managing the fear that I would not be able to teach or walk or surf in Bali. My fear was there, but so was my strength and resilience.

When I heard my best friend’s voice on the phone later that night, offering me her loving reflection, I knew that my injury was divinely intended to stop me in my tracks and force me to slow down and to feel. I had prayed to be cracked open, and so often the only way to get my attention is through physical pain. My friend’s wisdom resonated deeply. She offered me this mantra. “I am expanding and growing in my capacity to heal.” I took this mantra with me to bed and woke up with my foot feeling tender but so much better and ok enough to walk.

I went to the Yoga Shala and sat with myself. I moved tenderly and found that I could do more yoga than I thought I would be able to do. After leading a powerful morning circle, I went to the healer I had previously connected with, named Mini, to receive support for my foot. I had asked for energy work, feeling scared to let anyone touch my foot. Mini moved it around gently, increasing circulation and as she did I felt so scared she would hurt me. I tried to control the session. I worried that she would make it worse. I questioned her and she gently invited me to relax and trust her to help me. I worked hard to let go. I worked even harder to find trust. As she continued to work on my foot, the pain went away and I could not believe how much better I felt!

My belly gurgled. My body released. Towards the end of the session, I asked her if she thought my foot was healing and if it would be ok for me to walk through the Water Temple the next day. Mini said that I would feel better if I trusted and believed that I could heal. She told me what the medicine man in Bali had told me many years ago - to just decide to be happy, and I would be happy.

My fear of my own safety has been like a dark cloud over me since losing Noah. My worry around my health has kept me in a perpetual cycle of fear and pain. The wisdom I received today was simple and so poignant. To let go of my pain, I have to trust that I have the capacity to heal. To be happy, I have to decide that I am happy. To feel safe, I have to trust and believe that I am safe.

I can finally feel Noah close to me. He comes to me in these moments of insight and wisdom. He comes to me as a gentle tap on the shoulder reminding me to trust in life and to share my love.

Tomorrow is Noah’s 17th birthday. Going to the Water Temple is the perfect way to honor my son. Purifying myself, letting go of the grief that I have carried with me all these years that I am ready to wash away and be free of. This is what I have come to Bali to do. And, my journey is just beginning..