Seventy-Two

I first came to Ubud sometime in the early 90s. It was like stepping into another world. So green. Moist. Spirituality oozing from every broken statue. Temples that harkened to another time with their stone dragons staring through you. Not threatening, but in a way that told you that there were worlds before your time that still hold many mysteries. In the distance you could hear Gamelan orchestras playing their strangely discordant, but mesmerizing sounds.

Now, many years later, it’s hard to recognize. The traffic. The tourists. The chaos.

Yet still it remains comforting. Still draws you in. I am glad to be back.

In two days I turn seventy-two. I’ve been traveling the world for over six years now. I still wake up and wonder how I’ve gotten here, how I’ve changed and where I’m going. I am a long way from where I used to call home. That alone gives me perspective.

My plans were to come back to Bali and get acquainted. Maybe play some Pickleball, maybe some boxing. I like doing things. Keeping busy. But when I awoke on my first morning, I found myself just wanting to be quiet, look out over the rice fields and sit. Take it in. Breathe. Ubud can do that to you. From there, I planned to see where the day would take me. I have the time. No pressure. But I just sat. I couldn’t move. And it lasted. Another day. The same.

After a few days I did manage to go to a yoga class taught by Amit at the Yoga Barn. He is a world class teacher. A magician. And I am lucky to be his friend.

But afterwards, I came back to the quiet. It was addictive. A guilty pleasure. Why wasn’t I clamoring for more?

Then finally something bubbled up inside — I would like to write about becoming seventy-two.

I don’t know if enough is said about getting older, being retired and at the same time pushing towards new experiences. I guess that describes my journey over the last six years, and I did it wholeheartedly. I think I’ve always known this would happen. Leaving home, going out into the world and becoming a stranger in strange lands. It’s somehow in my DNA. And by taking the leap, it has changed me.

Before I began my travels, for my whole working life, the world was constantly pulling at me. I didn’t run away, I embraced it. Loved it really. The tension. Los Angeles. Go Go Go. Riding it like a wave. WooHoo. Who cares that I paid a price. I sweated about work. About providing for a family. It wasn’t always easy to sleep. I gave up so much and yet thrived on it.

But now that pressure is gone. I’ve simplified. I’ve given myself space just to be. And most importantly, I’ve thrown myself into the unknown — these are as important as traveling. And yet, they are a product of it.

Traveling solo. Visiting almost fifty countries. Living in Thailand. Being in Bali right now. That is my reality, my life.

My mind has opened. So has my heart. My spiritual world has a lock on my focus. I think, in a good way, about death. How my time on this planet has an ending. And it could come tomorrow. You never know. But I am not afraid.

I have time. Time to keep growing. Becoming. Time to let my past go. To forgive. To embrace an exciting future. I love not knowing where I’ll be or what I will be doing in the next few years, or decades. And if not, no regrets.

I hope everyone in their own way gets to experience what I have. Living life wholly is all that matters.

Next up… Australia.

Summer is living there now and Heather turns thirty in a few weeks (another milestone) and she is flying down so we can celebrate it together. Our little family. Oh how I love them.

So soon, life will get busy again. I’m looking forward to it.

But now, I’m grateful for this moment of peace.

I am a lucky guy.

Six Years on the Road