In February 2012, I visited Bali for the first time. I was visiting a good friend of mine from grad school in Singapore, and I took a few days to visit Bali as a side trip. I didn’t have enough pages left in my passport, so it almost didn’t happen. They wouldn’t let me get on the plane the first time around. But I went to the embassy in Singapore and was able to get on a flight one day later than originally planned. Magic.

I was going through a major transition (well, do we ever really stop that process? So tired, please tell me yes!). I had recently gotten out of an 11-year relationship. I was changing careers and starting a new job the following month. I had moved into an apartment and was living alone for the first time…ever. It was a trip that started a period of independence for me. It was my first solo trip ever, and the first of many since then.

I didn’t know what to expect, and I was completely blown away when I arrived at my palatial suite at the Intercontinental Hotel in the Jimbaran. Seriously, I felt like I was on a honeymoon with myself! From the balcony, I could hear the ocean. It was night, probably around midnight, and I ran down to the beach. I was alone. It was so quiet, and the waves were crashing down. When I think of the happiest moments of my life, this is one of them. Here’s a video:

The thing about recreating memories or returning to places from your past is that it’s often not possible. It was a special time at a special place at a special moment. It is a kind of magic. How do you find magic again? Unfortunately, I don’t think you can. I think it finds you when you’re chilled out and open, not frantically looking for answers.

This trip to Bali has been very different, equally special but certainly different. I’ve experienced the crazy hectic tourism that I missed the first time around. I’m older. My sensibilities have changed. I’m visiting new locations, thinking new thoughts. I haven’t even seen the beach yet. I don’t know why I’m avoiding it.