All the Senses
I’ve landed in Bali. It’s a long trip from anywhere in the world, made even longer this time around by a two-night required quarantine in Jakarta. (Which, coincidentally, they just upped to seven nights the day I was freed...made it in under the wire!) I choose one of the less expensive hotels: a huge complex just fifteen minutes from the airport that offered a choice between western and Asian meals. I would love to write a whole series on the food offerings (I’ve never eaten so much rice in a 48 hour period and was intrigued by the drink combinations: boxed milk with fried rice for Asian breakfast, scrambled eggs in a tortilla with mung bean milk for my western breakfast…) but that’s for a different day.
All in all, I spent less than 48 hours in a 20 square meter room with no access to fresh air. It wasn’t terrible. My dad and sister, who both have done seven and 15-night quarantines urged me to go find a room with windows that opened or a balcony. But I wasn't too concerned. How bad could it be? I knew the time change would have me sleepy and confused anyway. It would basically be a treat to be fed and confined to a room with a big bed and wifi for 48 hours...or so I thought.
Other than being on a plane when the last two hours of a twelve-hour flight seem to stretch forever, this was a very very slow movement of time. The hours between 3:00 am and 7:00 am when I'd be up and waiting for my breakfast were painful. Dark, quiet, a little creepy. I couldn't figure out if I was bored, hungry, tired, or what. What got to me the most was sensory deprivation. Nothing new to see, to hear, to smell, to taste (all the food sort of tasted the same: fried rice flavored). The room was white and grey. There were no people walking outside my window, but thankfully there were a couple of trees that swayed in the wind every now and then. The sky was just sort of grey, no clouds to watch. The general sound of the air vents circulating air was numbing. And the 30-second interaction of opening my door to get food delivered three times a day was the most exciting aspect. I felt suffocated.
But in my quarantine, I didn’t realize this was happening. I just thought I was bored, tired, jet-lagged, and hungry. It was only when I arrived at my tropical paradise treehouse in Bali that I felt the world come alive. In the eight minutes, it takes to walk from the road to the room I was immersed in life, in the natural world. I felt raindrops trickle on my head. The sound of waves echoed in a distance. Leaves and trees moved and rustled as insects, lizards, and maybe monkeys snuck through them. The smell of wet earth, the taste of fresh fruit. The lights of the city on the skyline, clouds moving across a dark sky. I felt reconnected, re-rooted, grounded, immersed, alive.
It turns out that living without fresh air, without SOUNDS, without texture, without interaction, is quite sad. It also turns out that I didn't really understand what I was missing until I had it. I thought I'd be just fine binging on Netflix, reading my book, having meals delivered. And in a way I was: I was fine.
Oh but how much better I am when I can hear birds, touch, see and feel green, choose what I taste, watch people, talk to people, be with people, and breathe. fresh. air.
We're heading into December. For many of you, it's cold, cozy, bundle up and stay-at-home weather. I love that too. I love hot tea, warm pajamas, light reading. But take stock of your senses for a second. How can you breathe more fresh air? How can you delight in the small sounds, scents, and textures of nature? What will you do to fully connect to all your senses? I'm grateful to have had the reminder of how much I need this living, natural world. That as much as I love to cocoon and nest and connect through the digital world, I need nature. I need my sensory stimulation. I need fresh air.
Wishing you a big breath of peace, some new sights and sounds (who knew just the rustle of leaves could be so powerful!?), and a hug from afar.
Happy Tuesday,
Henna
PS: I set up an automated welcome for my newsletter since I started getting some new subscribers that shares a bit more about me. Of course, I did this after the fact, so in case you're new here: Here's some basic info about me as a coach and a person. I also wrote a couple of past love letters with some things you might not know about me: the first ten here, another ten there, and a bonus five (or six) here. If you're thinking about one-on-one coaching, you're welcome to respond by email and we can find a time (I'm taking on limited new clients for 2022). Or you can read a bit more about my community coaching group for women called Belonging on this page. (Starting January 2022! Only six spots left!)