Gili Air, Indonesia

Somehow weeks have evaporated into days. After heaps of time not caring if it was a Sunday or a Wednesday, I am suddenly acutely aware of what day it is – my last Friday on the island, my last Tuesday on the island; time falling away until there are no days left. The countdown has begun. I leave in 3 days.

I am winding down my stay here with the same mixed emotions that have been prevalent from the start. I don’t like when my island friends ask me when I’ll be back and I can’t answer them. I have no idea how long it will be until I see them, or this place, again. I will miss the heat, the sand, the sea, the view. I will miss the inky night sky, with its billions of light-year perforations pressing down on me as I find my way home down the sandy tracks each night. I will miss the luxury of having no schedule and no responsibilities.

On the flip side, I look forward to my first fresh-water shower since October 17th (in Ubud, 3 nights from now, but who’s counting?); I look forward to coaxing my body back into some form of exercise when I get home. I will enjoy a little good bread and drink a coffee that’s not either Lombok or Nescafe. I will read a newspaper. I will hopefully start earning some money again.

There are two sides to everything. Plus and minus. This is life.

Tomorrow I’ll visit the elementary school to deliver a gift of notebooks and pens and coloured crayons to the students. I’ll pay a few last visits to my land, which is greener now from all the rain. I’ll watch my last sunsets, and do my best to make it down to the beach in time to catch a full sunrise before I go. Suzi is holding a leaving party for me at her restaurant-bar on Thursday night; my last night. I hope that everyone will come and dance with me and say goodbye.

It would be easier to leave if I knew when I was coming back. It would be easier if I knew what this island was going to look like, feel like, the next time…but this isn’t possible, because it is – and I am – in a state of constant growth and change.

We all live with the unknown, every minute of every day; but often we forget. It is with that in mind that I must remember to take each moment as it comes; to appreciate all that I have, have had, and will have; and to approach my farewell to this place and these people not with sadness, but with anticipation and wonderment for what the next leg of this ongoing life adventure might hold.