21 – 23 March 2025
In the blink of an eye, three days seemed to drag on endlessly. I’ve been in pain—body aching, head throbbing, a runny nose for a day. It felt like the flu, and yet, it wasn’t. One night, I could barely sleep due to the muscle aches, and the next, I could barely stay awake—I slept the entire day, waking only to sip fluids. Food felt unnecessary. My body was speaking, and all I could do was listen.
Emma was going through the same symptoms. Both of us, cocooned in our blankets, feverish and uncomfortable, surrendered to rest. We didn’t know what kind of virus was moving through us, but we knew that resisting it wouldn’t help. So we let go.
While wrapped in that dreamy, disoriented fog, we found space for deep conversations. Solo travel—especially as a woman—gives you so much to talk about. We spoke about the constant alertness required, the need to be hyper-aware of surroundings, people, energy. Even though most of India feels relatively safe, we both agreed that being female travelers adds an invisible layer of tension to every outing. The scams, the inappropriate comments, the endless staring—it all adds up. Just walking through the streets is exhausting, and the energetic cost is higher than most people realize.
Then there’s the unknown… the most exhilarating and the most difficult part of this journey. Living out of a backpack, not knowing where you’ll sleep next week, saying goodbye again and again—it sounds romantic. And in many ways, it is freeing. But the pain is real, too. Missing loved ones, not knowing when you’ll hug your parents or your best friend again. Every call or message brings joy and a quiet ache. We smile bravely through it all.
Yet, for every goodbye, there’s a sacred connection forged. The people we meet along the way, the soul connections, the instant recognition—it’s unlike anything else. And then, just like that, we part ways. A little piece of our hearts stays behind, over and over again. But oh, the beauty of it! These conversations, these adventures, the tears and laughter—they breathe color into our world. Without them, life would be so much less vibrant.
One afternoon, while sitting on the floor eating fruit and trying to nourish ourselves back to life, Emma and I had a moment of pure clarity. We looked at each other and realized—we’re the same. Mirrors. Reflections of purpose. Our callings may look different on paper, but our essence is shared.
Some of us weren’t sent here to do something specific. We were sent to be. To bring our presence where it’s needed. Whether we’re called a healer, a photographer, a teacher, or a guide—it doesn’t matter. We don’t need a title. We just need to show up fully, in our truth.
When we embody our soul essence, our god-self, and walk in Christ consciousness—with humility and unwavering self-awareness—our very presence can shift the world around us. Just like the biblical story of Jesus walking among the crowds, healing with the mere touch of his robe—we do that too, in our own way. Not because we are more or better, but because we’ve remembered. We remember we are divine. We are one. And by holding that frequency, others can remember too.
This is the gift. This is the work. This is why we came.
