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  • Writer's pictureAna Philibert

My Ubud nest

The words begin to form sentences in my mind, long before I even sit down to write. I hadn't written here for several months and finally Saturday arrived, the day I had promised myself to write the whole morning.

So here I am, with my cup of coffee, which I had also let rest for a while. I take the first sip and remember how much I like it, specially this one at my favorite place in Ubud. I write the first words, also remembering how much I enjoy writing. I pause; I don't really have a topic in mind for an article. I have many topics that I started writing about but are still drafts, but this time I want to start something totally new. I'm not sure what, but the words seem to be flowing, so I keep writing.

Another sip of coffee and I think that maybe this can be my new Saturday ritual: coffee and writing. I like this thing of having weekly rituals and favorite places.

The last time I wrote here, I was still living in Uluwatu and now I live in Ubud. I traded the beach for the jungle and for the first time in over a year, I traded my wings for roots. I put my backpack away and bought a blender, which strangely made me feel that I live here. After a more than a year of constant movement, I finally feel at home.

My nest—because it is a nest—surrounded by jungle with a terrace between trees, made me feel rooted from the first moment. It made me realize how much I already needed a season of stability and HOME.

I have enjoyed the process of making this place my home, of having my routine, walking in the same rice terraces in the mornings or in the afternoons. I also enjoy the storms that the rainy season brings, which always give me a waterfall at my doorstep.

I enjoy my house so much that sometimes I don't even want to go out, even if its just around the corner. Although I also love the little “corners" of my street. Simple things like walking to the laundromat or eating at the Warung (local restaurant) where I already made friends with Nyomang, make me feel part of the village and allow me to see a more traditional Balinese life.

Little by little I begin to be part of the local life, the neighbors already know me and have invited me to their ceremonies. Every morning I see people placing their offerings at their doorways or working on their rice fields. It is very common to see ladies carrying all sorts of things in their heads and motorcycles that transport EVERYTHING in large quantities.

Ubud is a town in the center of the island, surrounded by jungle, rice fields, rivers and waterfalls. Balinese temples, typical houses and local markets mix with cafes, yoga centers and vegan restaurants. Before it closed to tourism, Ubud was THE destination for yogis and people on a spiritual quest.

Two years ago I asked myself the question: wings or roots? The great contrast between my desire to explore and my need for stability, led me to question what I really wanted and if I could have both or had to choose one. I keep answering this question constantly (and writing in depth about it), understanding that there can be seasons of wings and seasons of roots.

For now, after four months of enjoying my roots, of finally feeling at home, every cell in my body is grateful for the stability that this place gives me. My mind and my body thank me for being able to rest in the certainty that, at least for a while more, I will stay here, in this nest, in this jungle, on this island that I love more everyday. And it feels amazing.


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