The No Plan Plan

I arrived in Bali with a game plan that has long since blurred around the edges and vanished in the bright light of the sun. I was hell bent to get somewhere, be someone, do something of import.

As usual, this beautiful country took my carefully laid plans and laughed at them, it's deep rich belly laugh rolling in off the rice fields like thunder.

I spent the first weekend reuniting with my deeply missed friends, promising my mind that Monday I would begin to be productive. Come Monday, I woke up to find that my immune system had utterly checked out, leaving me with wave after wave of systemic symptoms and total exhaustion.

I lived a week of tending to my body, laying low and revisiting the practice of napping. My strength returned on the heels of the realization that Bali had done it again: completely shaken me free of all of my ideas and goals to leave me in a state of just being.


So here I sit. Totally at home in my little Lotus cottage, tapping away at my computer as the seasonal rains drum a familiar beat on the leafy green foliage of the garden.

A few prospective opportunities are nibbling away at the corners of the future in my mind, but all I know to be true is here and now in this moment. I am surrounded by people I love in a land that literally sings me to sleep each night. The mornings bring such a heavy hanging seeping surge of life that I'm drawn from my bed and into yoga, meditation, or the delicate art of just sitting, taking it all in.

I'm not too fussed about where I'm going or where I've been. I only know that in this moment I have found my bliss. All of those nagging questions are daily packing their bags and heading back to a western world where they make sense. They are foreign in this space, and like an old pair of faded jeans, don't quite fit me anymore.

Baby, I just ain't worried.
As my buddy Ryan says, “I'm on the No Plan Plan”.