I am moving to Bali
My departure is getting closer. In exactly seven days, I will leave my apartment; I will put most of my life in boxes, the boxes in the cellar, my furniture, my childhood wardrobe and my books. I will pack with care my essentials in a suitcase, few clothes that will come with me on the next step of my life, a few books, my journals from the last years, a few pictures, and a few objects that I care about, these objects which remind me that I am coming from somewhere, that I still have a place somewhere, that I didn’t throw everything away to start over. I am not throwing everything away to start over; I am building the next step. It is like building the above floor on existing foundations. I couldn’t build anything if I didn’t have the existing foundations, the past foundations. I wouldn’t be moving forward if I hadn’t learnt form my past. I am taking everything with me to leave. And it is probably because I am taking everything, that I can leave.
In exactly seven days, I will take the plane. I am moving to Bali.
It was probably the easiest decision I made in my life, and also the most difficult one. Living in Bali is the easy part. Imagining my little home in the rice fields is a dream I had for many years. The difficult part, it’s what I am leaving here to go. The difficult part begins now. To organize my move, to sort my old memories, the next tenant who asks how to change the name on the mailbox, people I won’t see again before I leave and to whom I begin to say goodbye, to terminate my phone subscription, to give my plants away, to sell my couch that I love but doesn’t fit into my mother’s cellar, to count the nights I have left in my bed, not having any idea of the bed I’ll be sleeping in next week. Leaving a home that I truly love without having any idea of the home I will build for myself in the next months.
People tell me all the time how brave I am. And for a while, it pleased my ego. It’s awesome, you are so brave, I couldn’t do what you’re doing. It pleased my ego to have made a decision that truly everybody can make, but that only few people think they can make. The questions that followed were always the same. Do you know people there? Where will you live? Did you find a job in Bali? What will you do? What do we eat in Bali? Only material. The only questions I’ve been asked are material questions.
And, as my departure is getting closer, as the stress increases maybe, I realized that I couldn’t take it anymore. I can’t hear that I am brave any longer. I realized that it was not helping. Quite the opposite actually. People are not stopping from throwing their own insecurities at me. I couldn’t do what you’re doing.
I don’t feel brave; I am scared. It is not because I am doing it that I am not scared. But I have faith. And it makes all the difference. We’re not taking risks in life because we are brave. Not just that. We’re taking risks because we have faith. I have faith in myself, in my intuition, in my decision. I have faith in my inner safety. I have faith in life, and in what life is planning for me. And if it’s not in Bali, then it will be somewhere else.
I have no doubt in the kindness of the people around me and of the support they want to give me. It makes me wonder about the support I give to people. Do we support people to really help them or for ourselves, for what they’re projecting on us? Do we tell people really what they need to hear or just what we want to tell them?
I asked myself what support I’d wish to receive. We always know what we don’t want; it is not easy to know what we really need. I thought about a message I received from a really good friend, probably someone who guided me these last years, I cried when I received it (and I am still crying now that I am writing it here): « If you need, there will always be a bed for you at my place, know that ». This is it. I have made my decision. I am leaving. I don’t need to be congratulated about what I am doing, I don’t need people to project on me insecurities that aren’t mine, I need my fears to be supported, I need to get a safety net with a little notice at the entry which would say: « Go ahead, achieve your dream, and if it is not going like you want, I will be there to catch you. »
The biggest fear we have, when we’re taking risks, when we think that everything is possible and that it is time to achieve our dreams, is a material fear. The fear to end in a tent, under a bridge. And this is exactly why people ask me only material questions. It is what everybody worries about. Where I will sleep, what will I do to earn money, who I will see, what I will eat.
I wonder if it is not the only support that matters at the end. We all have to do our inner path, for ourselves, nobody can do it for us. We all have to achieve our dreams, for ourselves. The only support that we can give to someone, is an external support, a bed to sleep in, a place at a table, a holding hand, an attentive ear. Actions, more than words.
I talked about it to my friend Ketty this afternoon, she understood in a flash what I meant and she said: « The real support is the one who would say: take care of your inner safety, and if you need, I am here to help you with your outer safety. »
Maybe the real support, it is not uselessly swelling our egos. You are so brave. But open our doors and our hearts. Wherever I go, whatever I do, there will always be a place that I can come back to. A bed to sleep in. A heart ready to love me.
I don’t have my home in Bali yet, I can’t tell you if the bed is confortable and if the bathroom comes with or without lizards. Know that, wherever the place I end up at, there will always be a place for you in my home, and in my heart. Achieve your dreams; you have to, for yourself.
With all my love, as always