Rewind to Christmas Thaim.

So I'm almost 2 months into life in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Living at home, working full time and learning to appreciate the weekends more every day. I've found my priorities shift as my free time has become squeezed into a narrow 2-day gap and my recreational 'to do' list is still just as long ... and incomplete but I'm ticking off the boxes one by one. The lesson I'm learning is that it's ok to slow down because unlike the days of my degree, in this working world there is no end to the race. So while it's long overdue, this post is something I wrote over the christmas holiday and although I'm in a very different space now, it's nice to let the mind return to a time that was once a reality...

The clocks hand has finally cut the circle in two; it's 7.30am and my body is up and eager for the day. The 8am morning yoga in the buddha hall was sounding good but alas, nature decided otherwise. My mum and I are staying in a little wooden bungalow at the top of a mountain, in Koh Phangan, Thailand. Aside from its solid foundations it stands bare and defenseless against tropical rainstorms like this. The shutters closest to my head are swinging open and closed and gusts of earthy wind are circulating the room, it's a wild experience to be a part of. The tropical trees are shuddering and the giant leaves - so thin and strong have been weakened as they fall to the ground in all directions - soon to become part of the next layer of jungle floor when the storm has passed.

Yesterday, when I looked out the window at the vast expanse of sea, my eyes were entertained by the constant currents and rips that were surging and merging into one another. But now, looking out there is no distinction between the underwater rhythms. Despite the outer chaos the water is seemingly calm, awash with a million tiny pockets from where the droplets continue to fall. Through the ancient medicinal lens of Ayurvedic tradition that we follow in yoga this weather would be described as vata; a 'dosha' or constitution that connotes purifying, wet and strong weather on the outside and a desire for movement, creativity and contemplation on the inside. If one were to sit now and practise anything it would need to be the opposite - long, deep, heating breath and strong, grounding movements - working with the elements. A big thunderbolt just struck the sky and in its wake, silence has followed. Now we rest in the calm after the storm...

I love it here, this patch of earth that we've been coming to for over 10 years now; I'm with my mum, her boyfriend T and his kids C and T to celebrate New Years. To the side of our hut, enclosed by a little bay lies 'The Sanctuary' - a healing retreat scattered along the roots of the jungle. The restaurant is full of vegan and gluten free goodness and the shop full of Ayurvedic oils and pretty garms. The grounds are run by the glam hippies adorned in sparkly sequins and sarongs, floating between natural and psychedelic healing sessions. On the other side of us is Haad Tien where 'Eden' lies - a venue that holds great sentimental value, positioned between ancient rocks and home to the most magical raves. It's a sight to be held when the sunrise reveals the seamless stretch of bay, sea and jungle - previously hidden by the night. I remember being on an adventure here when I was 18 years old with J... we'd managed to escape the obnoxious beats of the half moon party on Haadrin and instead, chose to board a little boat to an unknown bay that offered an unimaginable alternative. We danced until the sun rose and then I remember recognizing an old school friend from Sri Lanka and then another from Cambodia! My worlds had collided and shrunk into a tropical raindrop. It is truly a place where magic happens... I found it comical yet not surprising that we had discovered the rave right around the corner from the healing retreat that I'd spent time in growing up. So this is where the adults had disappeared off to when I lay in bed at night listening to the cicadas sing. The dots all add up eventually...

For a change, this holiday I haven't been so drawn to the beats that echo across the island. My body has been recovering from the last few weeks of madness in London and I'm luckily in the perfect place to heal. The other day as the post-yoga gong was sounding through the hall, I heard it merge with the deep bass from Guy's Bar and I smiled... true.vibes. It's 3 days on from New year, the music is still going and the people still flowing passed our little hut with remnants of glitter on their faces..

So that tropical storm grew and grew until we could no longer stay

For fear of being blown away.

And after a few hiccups we were all homeward bound 

and we made it back safe and sound.

Now I'm counting down the days,

until the next glorious getaway.

Song of the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vrbaZ7dpJyg

I watch the forest breathe

The land of yogis and trees. I look back on my childhood memories at this enchanted pocket of the world – located in central Sri Lanka, Ulpotha is rich with the purest energy emanating from the fresh faces of guests to the organically grown food to the wild surrounding fauna. The trees range from bamboo to banyan, the tops of some lie submerged in the fresh water tank; during dry season, the water marks can be seen striped across the middle of the ancient rocks that line the perimeter of the water. Jumping off the steps, I glide into the earthy water and lie on my back looking up at the grand mountains and taking a moment to reflect. I imagine this scene millions of years ago, untouched, exactly the same - a long necked dinosaur leaning it’s head into the water for a drink would top it off perfectly.

I’ve been going since I was a buba myself, once upon a time groups of us were rampaging through the ancient forest playing cops and robbers, hiding behind the giant roots of trees or the lush green grass of the rice paddies – careful not to disturb the adults who we could always hear laughing or chanting, the sound of a gong now and then, reverberating across the grounds. It was our magical playground by day and by night it all disappeared with no electricity or lights; instead, oil lamps hang scattered inside the mud huts or along the pathways. It was so raw and wild that we’d always be careful to stomp our feet loudly for snakes and creepy crawlies, it wasn’t until 10 years later that I actually witnessed one!

We never appreciated it enough as children, but now as we live such chaotic lives full of all sorts of stressors, Ulpotha is the perfect place to wind down and press pause for a little while. With no sense of time you’re able to truly slow your breath down: in yoga classes, during an Ayurvedic healing, a natural shower or a gentle bike ride through the local village. Everything’s very spread out in Ulpotha, allowing you to be social yet have your space at the same time, it doesn’t take too long to get your bearings but ‘the Cade hut’ is definitely one to remember, as it’s always open for a Tambili (King coconut) or a yummy snack.

It’s rare to have time to fully relax these days and a shame that it often takes a drastic change in environment to do so – but with options like Ulpotha readily available, why wouldn’t you jump at the opportunity? Sri Lanka in itself is a gem, with its strong Buddhist influence, scenic land and loving people (despite their heavy history of conflict). I’ve never met someone who hasn’t shared the same thoughts and feelings as I.

We’re usually lucky enough to go to Ulpotha for New Year and while it’s always pretty similar, there’s something special you take away each time you leave. The same faces tend to appear and new ones are always welcomed. This year was the driest new year so far, the water in the tank was so low, we waded through the middle of the lake feeling the melted chocolate-like mud squelch and squirt through our toes, the wading soon turned into a therapeutic mud bath as we lathered it all over our bodies and returned to land to bake on the bank in the afternoon sun.

By night, it comes to life, friends, guests, local villagers and staff all joined together to dance on the smooth rocks to the rhythmic beats of Sri Lankan drummers, while the girl’s jangled and spun in their beautiful saris. Come 8am the local shaman had arrived to bless the land for another year by boiling the milk for the milk-rice (a local treat) as we patiently stood and observed the ritual.

Although time doesn’t exist in Ulpotha, it always ends too fast. But you come away inspired by the culture and energy that you’ve gained. One day I hope to take my children there, to run along the dusty paths, feel the magical energy and watch the forest breathe.