8 & 9 May 2025
Peaceful island days are slipping by like silk, dissolving into a dreamy, timeless reality untouched by the demands of the so-called “real world.”
Juita Glamping is nestled at the far-left edge of this tiny stretch of beach — past a larger lodge, a few smaller stays, and two teeny-tiny “shops” that barely count as shops at all.
I haven’t had to do much work yet — Lea and Marie, the other volunteers, have a strong rhythm going with the daily tasks around camp. For now, I’ve mostly been observing, gently learning the flow of things… and sleeping.
Deeply.
I don’t often get the luxury of naps, and when I do, they usually sabotage my night’s rest. But since arriving here, I’ve been sleeping more than I can remember sleeping in years. It’s not even that I feel particularly tired — I simply can’t keep my eyes open. This place, with its fresh air, gentle energy, smiling faces, and soft expectations, has wrapped me in a stillness that feels like a nervous system reset.
This — this is what I came for.
After years of burnout, emotional intensity, business stress, survival-mode living, and a relentless spiritual awakening… I needed this. I’ve had moments of rest these past four months, but nothing like this. Nothing like here.
Time has melted completely.
I often don’t even know what day it is. For the first time in what feels like forever, I have enough time to simply sit — to watch the ocean breathe, to listen to the birds sing their wild jungle songs, to be with myself in peace.
Mornings on the beach are sacred.
Breathwork here is effortless — each inhale fuller than the last, as if my entire system is being restored one breath at a time. This morning, I sat wondering about the deeper purpose of this time — was it just rest? Was I simply gifted this window of peace between chapters?
And then… they came.
My Lumerian elders emerged before me in meditation — high-frequency beings clothed in crystal-clear gold and blue light, radiating wisdom, peace, and deep remembrance. These luminous beings have been gently revealing themselves more and more on this journey, and today they surrounded me with such love that I nearly wept.
I understood, in that moment, that this time was gifted to me not only for rest, but for reconnection — to anchor more deeply into the Lumerian frequency, to remember more fully who I am, and to weave this energy into my next becoming.
Later in the afternoon, we had some interesting guests — three older men from Kuala Lumpur, curious about us girls and our travels. Their English was limited, but their hearts were wide open as they listened with interest to our stories.
As I headed to the beach with my flute, one of the men pulled out a guitar and motioned for me to join him. There was no getting out of it — I sat beside him and played along to an unfamiliar melody. I’m no professional, but I simply let the notes move through me, trusting my fingers to follow their own rhythm. It turned into the sweetest little jam session — spontaneous, joyful, and now tucked safely into my memory bank of travel magic.
And tonight, after dinner, the Chef and some of the guys invited us out for drinks.
Now, you might imagine cocktails and music… but this is Perhentian Island, and things are delightfully different here. We arrived at a tiny beach café built entirely from driftwood and shells. We sat barefoot in the sand, and the “drinks” were Milo Ice — a cold chocolate-malt classic.
Most of the guys are Muslim, so alcohol isn’t served in most places — which suits me just fine. But it did make me giggle a little… a group of us “out for drinks,” sipping cold Milo under starlit skies with our feet in the sand.
And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
