The End

It’s that time again.  It’s time to move.

8 months ago, I arrived in Bali to this same villa.  I remember throwing open the gate and being pulled into a vortex of community.  I felt like I’d come home.  Last year, I danced, I sang, I played, I learned.  I bathed in the simplicity of 3rd world splendour.

And the people!!…Everyone I met became an important part of my new family…teaching me how to speak, listen and love again…  Like a puzzle piece I slotted straight in.  Despite all challenges, I was in the right place.  I felt so good.

Fast forward to the present

So recently, I moved back.  Because things haven’t felt right recently.  And I wanted to recreate my happy place.  I couldn’t figure out what was so different.  But it just so happens it was another Moment In Time that I was trying to recreate, in my world that felt hysterical…in both a funny and crazy way.

It wasn’t the only reason it feels wrong.  .

I’m tired.  I move slowly… like I just want to get through this day, so I can go to bed.  And the next morning, I don’t want to leave my room.  I make myself leave.  I’m biding time.  I know I’m in the wrong place, but I haven’t quite summoned the courage to move yet.  I’ve been paralysed while my mind clicks away and my heart patiently doodles in the corner waiting for the mind to adjust to an inevitability.

Tonight I wanted to watch TV.  After a year of not watching ANY TV, I wanted to watch TV.  I wanted to watch Greys Anatomy.  I want to cozy up in front of my fire and just pretend that the outside world doesn’t exist…or that my place in it has been filled by someone else.

It’s better the second time round

That’s the message that Greys had to give me tonight.

Well, this resonated to me on a few levels.

No, theres no second time round with Scott.

No, this time round in Bali hasn’t been the same as the first – its been different.

But, Yes, there could be a better second time round for me…if I choose it.

The closing scene – do you remember when you were 7, and the dream you had about what you were going to do when you grew up?  Whatever that dream was, at 7, there were no obstacles, it just was.  It was certain.  It’s intriguing how adulting gets in the way of innocent, dreamy, childlike certainty.

I am exactly where I am.  It’s neither good nor bad.  Its reality.


I’m sad.

You know I thought that this would be the name of the book I’d write.  The acronym would stand for Stress, Anxiety, Depression.  It would be a story on love, loss and grief and how it can impact on health and wellness.  It would play on the themes of spirituality, vulnerability and existentialism.  It would help me.  It would help others.

It turns out the SAD also stands for Seasonal Affective Disorder.  It usually happens in winter.  It’s not cold here.  But its cold at home and I feel like I’m being affected by winter SAD.

Whatever.  I’m still sad.

Delayed Grief

My body is more finely tuned in than I am.  Often in the grief process, overwhelming feelings would hit me, only for me to realise that a certain date had passed, an anniversary or whatever.  My body was responding before my mind connected the dots.

I was surprised at this one.  Maybe I’ve just slowed down enough to be sensitive to it.   It took me awhile to figure out that last year, I was feeling exactly this way.  I’m revisiting and recycling those same feelings.

The same feeling of wanting to protect myself.

The same feeling of denying the world beyond the door.

The same feeling of incarceration.

It doesn’t matter where I am in the world, my body remembers the dates – I can’t run away from it.  And actually, its not for running from.  I can observe it now and understand it.  I know what it is.


The only way to stop the cycle, is to change the cycle.  This is what I have as my 6am calendar entry:

If you want to change your life, start by changing your day

Grief is Interminable

It doesn’t ever go away.

And neither do the mortgage, the bills and 6 month old mail.

So this is the end, my precious Ubud…

For now, our love affair is over.

I will take you, and all of your lessons, with me in my heart.

And I’ll return again, when you call me.

When it feels right.



  1. ps2julz · July 3, 2015

    Brilliant Kirsty. Very poignant. I too have experienced delayed grief – around my Mum’s death anniversary I would always feel sad, and as the years went on I sometimes forgot to mark the anniversary of her death, but would remember a day or two later, and there would be that “Aha! That is why I’ve been feeling so down” recognition. The grief and shock is etched in your bones. Wear it like a tattoo. Much love to you my friend, and you know I’m here if you need me. Let’s hope that a devastating end only makes a new beginning more beautiful. xxxooo

    Liked by 1 person

  2. thragnzl · July 4, 2015

    We love you Kirsty, love us in Sydney. just wanted you to know.


  3. drummondvintage · July 6, 2015

    OOH Kirsty I adore your eloquence! I thank you for baring your soil and sharing your journey, so others of us can join in a learning as we see the need. I have loved your posts on your different experiences, felt your inner anguish, elation, opening awareness to new ways of being in the world. There is nothing surer than the lesons we are given allow us to transmute them into gifts we can offer…I see a thread of idea there, in helping ourself we help others. And I have learned one thing in my own staccato journey, the journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. Begin it now. Have faith your new path will unfold, blessings, love and light xxx

    Liked by 1 person

    • Kirsty Healey · July 6, 2015

      You are AWESOME!! thank You! So many travellers with me..such a cool thing to have my tribe with me…tk u beautiful x

      Liked by 1 person

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