Reaping What We Sow: A Farewell Note from Bali

It’s Kungingan Day in Bali today—the celebration that closes the Galungan cycle, a symbolic farewell to the spirits of ancestors who have visited the earthly realm over the past ten days. The penjors still arch gracefully along the roadside, like elegant signatures in the sky, but soon they’ll come down, and life will move on. Much like Georgie and I, whose time on the island is now tapering to an end. She leaves in 6 days, and I’ll follow 7 days later.

By the time I fly out, it will have been nearly three months since I arrived back on this extraordinary island. Three months that feel like a deep exhale. Time here seems to dilate. Days blur into ritual—gamelan, incense, gentle breezes, sweat, heat/ice, writing, love, breath.

This trip has been a turning point in more ways than one. Internally, I feel like I’ve shed skin. I wrote yesterday about peeling away layers of belief and stepping into a new framework of understanding reality. Maybe I’m just rearranging old furniture in the mind, or maybe I’ve opened a window and seen a bit more of the sky. Either way, something inside me has changed. There’s more stillness. Less grasping.

Physically, it’s been a time of recovery and reinvention. My fractured fibula kept me from lower body workouts, but that just meant more energy went into upper body strength, organ health, and overall maintenance. I’ve been diligent—sauna, cold plunge, HBOT three times a week, amino acid and electrolyte IVs, and weekly testosterone injections that have quite literally put a spring back in my step. Libido’s up, mood’s steady, and the muscle is staying on. At 73, I feel stronger and more vital than I did in my fifties. Not bad for a so-called pensioner.

Of course, it’s not all rainbows and clarity. I caught a flu a few weeks ago that’s still dragging its feet—lingering inflammation in the chest, some phlegm, and a disappointing HRV of 19 last night. I’m not worried, but I’m watching it.

The next 13 days are all about consolidation. I’ve lined up more HBOT, two rounds of EBOO, IVs, daily saunas, massages, and a tightened keto protocol. I’ll do a HOMA-IR test before I leave to check how far I’ve come since arriving, insulin-wise. I’m confident the results will reflect the effort. Georgie and I also plan to sneak in a little aesthetic work—some skin tightening under the eyes and around the neck. Just enough to reflect how we feel inside.

And just when we thought we’d wind things down quietly at Villa Tusk, the universe reminded us how it works when you’re tuned in. We got a 20-day booking out of nowhere, almost immediately after deciding to open up the calendar. It’s brought in over $10,000. Money we truly needed. Once again, the island whispered back with abundance.

All of this reinforces something I’ve known for a long time but occasionally forget:

You reap what you sow.

You get back what you radiate.

High frequency out, high frequency in.

Georgie and I are among the luckiest people alive—not because everything’s perfect, but because we know how to see what’s right in front of us. We work on ourselves, we trust the process, we make space for the present moment, and we try to live with our eyes—and hearts—wide open.

So now we prepare to return to Melbourne, recharge, then off to Japan in August, and hopefully back to Bali in October. Another chapter, another turn of the wheel.

For now, I sit in quiet gratitude. For health, for love, for breath, and for the miracle of this life—simulation or not.