13 & 14 May 2025
The French girls have left, off to chase their next adventure after five weeks on the island.
It’s wild how time works here — slow as a sunrise and yet weeks pass in the blink of a salt-slicked eye.
Lately I’ve been catching up with loved ones — video calls, long chats, and those much-needed “Wi-Fi hugs” that soothe the occasional homesick ache. There’s no Wi-Fi at camp and often no electricity during the day. While being off-grid is magical, it’s also meant that I haven’t been able to do as much writing, blog-posting, or facilitator training as I’d hoped.
But… thank the goddess I bought a local SIM at the airport! Mobile data here is affordable, and it’s become a lifeline to both the outside world and my own inner creative work.
This morning, as I sat beneath a tree talking to my mom, a tiny golden jumping spider landed gently on my hand — blinking its little black eyes as if to say hello. I was instantly enchanted. It felt like it had adopted me as its personal jungle pet. I tried coaxing it onto a leaf, but it kept bouncing back to my finger. Then onto my camera. Then back again. We played this little dance until, satisfied, it bounced off to find another companion.
I’ve always been uneasy around spiders — but these ones? They stole my heart long ago in Kaapsehoop.
There’s something about their curious spirit. Like they hold too much personality for such a tiny body.
Nature’s tiny wonders are always reminding me how much magic lives in the smallest of encounters.
Later that day, I had an important video interview lined up — with Jasmin from 12 Monks, the woman in charge of recruitment. I was nervous, excited… hopeful. This opportunity in Goa could be the door I’ve been preparing for — a space to offer my sessions, help host retreats, and collaborate in real-time sacred work.
Within half an hour, it was clear we clicked.
We spoke easily, laughed often, and shared a sense of alignment. She told me they’d already received over 100 applications — of course they had — but she’d get back to me soon with a decision.
So now… I wait.
And trust.
That afternoon, I joined a group of English boys on the Rawa snorkeling tour.
They were young, loud, and full of jokes, keeping us entertained as the boat bounced across choppy waters. The sea looked different today — wind-stirred, restless.
At our first stop, I felt the strength of the current immediately. It tugged at me, fast and firm. I’m not a strong swimmer, and a flash of panic rose in my chest as I realized how quickly I was drifting away from the boat. I made the choice to stay close to safety, reminding myself that joy doesn’t always require distance.
And beneath the surface… oh, the wonder.
Bright parrotfish gliding through coral.
Tiny silvery stripes surrounding me in a curious spiral.
Some even came close enough to nibble at my fingers — until, as one, they vanished, leaving me waving goodbye with a grin.
The second stop was a tiny rocky island, crowned with a speck of white sand.
The waves there weren’t kind — most of us gave up on snorkeling and explored the little cove on foot.
Stop number three was bumpier still — the boat launched up and slapped back down with mighty splashes. Lukeman nearly went airborne and quickly relocated to the rear of the boat, laughing along with the rest of us.
As we approached the fourth and final site, the wind had other plans. The boatman looked at us, apologetic, and said we couldn’t risk it.
Honestly? We were all exhausted. No one complained.
Back at camp, new guests arrived with shy smiles.
It was time to start dinner, the sky beginning to soften.
And me? Tired, sun-warmed, salt-splashed, and grateful.
Another day, filed away into the glowing memory bank of Malaysia 2025.
