I have been in Ubud for three weeks now, and thanks to an extended visa, we get to stay for another 30 days. It might seem unusual to settle in one place during a gap year, but in many ways, it feels like we’ve moved here—at least temporarily—to rest and recalibrate. This gap year is not just a break from work but a departure from the world I used to inhabit. The transitions between countries won’t be rushed; moving every week would be unsustainable. Instead, we are easing into a rhythm, embracing a slower, more intentional way of being.
Unlike traditional travellers, we are not racing through an itinerary or ticking off sights just for the sake of it. Having visited Ubud many times before, we still weave in some sightseeing, but there is no urgency. We’re not here to capture something for others—at least not yet. Right now, we are here to settle, to reconnect with our bodies. We keep returning to Ubud because of how it makes us feel. Within hours of arriving, I notice my nervous system slowing, my body settling into itself. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: there is something about the energy of Ubud that gently unravels years of holding on in a way that words can’t quite capture.
We found accommodation near a yoga studio, and our days have taken on a steady rhythm—yoga every morning, nourishing meals, long walks, sweating, and moving more slowly in everything we do. We’re in bed by 8 p.m., asleep by 9, and awake at 6 to immerse ourselves in fiery yoga practices at Alchemy before diving into work. The digital nomadic lifestyle fits seamlessly here—everywhere you look, someone is on a laptop, sustaining their stay with remote work. It’s a physical embodiment of the idea that you can work to live, needing less to afford the luxury of doing less.
Our days are relatively structured. My husband has clients and deadlines, while I’ve shifted gears, assisting him creatively with his theme business while also easing into my own rhythm—writing, taking photos, and refining my yoga and meditation teaching style at my own pace. (I know I haven’t posted any videos yet—I will. But for now, I am deeply immersed in being a student again, reconnecting with my body. There is something to be said for a teacher who fully embodies the practice, and I hope to reach that place soon. Squeezing in teaching after a full-time job never allowed me to show up as my best, and I want to do better.)
Everything in Ubud seems designed for self-care. Perhaps it’s just what I’m attuned to, but the abundance of vegan eateries, holistic healing spaces, and wellness practices suggest otherwise. Wellness makes sense here—it’s not just a luxury but an accessible way of life. It’s more affordable to indulge in self-care routines that might feel extravagant elsewhere. As a vegan with food allergies, finding the right food in a foreign country can sometimes be a challenge, especially where English isn’t the first language. But in Ubud, it’s effortless. There is a deep understanding of nutrition and its impact on well-being, with a vast array of restaurants catering to every dietary need.
For now, we are soaking in this time, allowing Ubud to work its magic. This isn’t just travel; it’s recalibration. And it feels exactly right.
