Four years ago, I stepped away from a decade of public service as a Douglas County Commissioner, where I served the vibrant communities of Lake Tahoe and Carson Valley. It was a role that shaped me, filled with challenges and rewards—overseeing budgets, advocating for local needs, and navigating the complexities of governance. After my time as a commissioner, I transitioned to working for the State of Nevada, diving into transportation issues that fascinated me. From improving infrastructure to tackling traffic flow, I found joy in solving problems that kept communities connected. But in 2021, I made a pivotal choice: I retired from state work, chose not to run for re-election, and took a leap into the unknown.
The pandemic turned the world upside down, and with it, my plans. I had dreamed of settling in the Philippines or Vietnam, drawn to their energy and warmth. But visas were scarce, borders were tight, and opportunities seemed to vanish. Then, a door opened—a business visa to Indonesia. Before I knew it, I was on a plane to Bali, a place I’d only heard about in travel stories. It was a leap of faith, one that would redefine my life.
Landing in Bali felt like stepping into a new world. The island’s beauty—lush rice terraces, vibrant temples, and turquoise waves—was matched only by the warmth of its people. I met incredible souls, mostly from Australia and Europe, each with their own stories of why they’d come to this island paradise. Americans were rare, and I often found myself the odd one out, yet welcomed with open arms. Over the next two years, I immersed myself in Bali’s culture, from savoring nasi goreng at roadside warungs to joining in the rhythmic chants of temple ceremonies. The people I met—expats, locals, wanderers—taught me about openness, about living in a way that embraces differences rather than judges them.
In Bali, I found a kind of community I hadn’t known I was searching for. It reminded me of a lesson I’ve carried through my life: the shape of a “U”—open, vulnerable, and inviting—creates space for connection. Whether it was sharing stories over coffee with an Australian surfer or learning Bahasa Indonesia phrases from a local vendor, those moments shaped me, much like my years in Nevada shaped my sense of duty. Bali wasn’t just a place to live; it was a place to learn how to live more fully.
Next week, I’ll dive deeper into my two years in Bali—the people who became my family, the cultural traditions that opened my eyes, and the moments of joy and challenge that made it unforgettable. I’ll share stories of late-night conversations in beachside bars, the spiritual depth of Balinese ceremonies, and the lessons of love and acceptance I carried forward. For now, I’m back to writing, ready to share this journey with you. My life has taken unexpected turns—from the mountains of Nevada to the shores of Southeast Asia—but each step has been about opening my heart to new possibilities.
Questions to Reflect On
The pandemic turned the world upside down, and with it, my plans. I had dreamed of settling in the Philippines or Vietnam, drawn to their energy and warmth. But visas were scarce, borders were tight, and opportunities seemed to vanish. Then, a door opened—a business visa to Indonesia. Before I knew it, I was on a plane to Bali, a place I’d only heard about in travel stories. It was a leap of faith, one that would redefine my life.
Landing in Bali felt like stepping into a new world. The island’s beauty—lush rice terraces, vibrant temples, and turquoise waves—was matched only by the warmth of its people. I met incredible souls, mostly from Australia and Europe, each with their own stories of why they’d come to this island paradise. Americans were rare, and I often found myself the odd one out, yet welcomed with open arms. Over the next two years, I immersed myself in Bali’s culture, from savoring nasi goreng at roadside warungs to joining in the rhythmic chants of temple ceremonies. The people I met—expats, locals, wanderers—taught me about openness, about living in a way that embraces differences rather than judges them.
In Bali, I found a kind of community I hadn’t known I was searching for. It reminded me of a lesson I’ve carried through my life: the shape of a “U”—open, vulnerable, and inviting—creates space for connection. Whether it was sharing stories over coffee with an Australian surfer or learning Bahasa Indonesia phrases from a local vendor, those moments shaped me, much like my years in Nevada shaped my sense of duty. Bali wasn’t just a place to live; it was a place to learn how to live more fully.
Next week, I’ll dive deeper into my two years in Bali—the people who became my family, the cultural traditions that opened my eyes, and the moments of joy and challenge that made it unforgettable. I’ll share stories of late-night conversations in beachside bars, the spiritual depth of Balinese ceremonies, and the lessons of love and acceptance I carried forward. For now, I’m back to writing, ready to share this journey with you. My life has taken unexpected turns—from the mountains of Nevada to the shores of Southeast Asia—but each step has been about opening my heart to new possibilities.
Questions to Reflect On
- What leap of faith have you taken that led to unexpected growth?
- How have new places or people helped you embrace differences?
- What does “living openly” mean to you in your current season?
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