– He is confused – everyone keeps telling me one and the same definition of a person that I suddenly find interesting here in Arambol. He plays the violin, practices Ashtanga yoga, he is tattooed all over, looking handsome both at concerts and on his motorbike, he’s French, and he speaks English with that adorable French accent. His name is Julien. Only one girl said that he is a very dear person who has had a difficult childhood. Of course, this woke up the doctor in me, oh how interesting, here’s someone I could be fixing while he is inspiring me.

Plus, I keep feeling like I’ve known him from somewhere else.

– Did we meet somewhere before?

Whenever I’m in a new city, I look for places where I feel so good I can write. In Goa, that’s La Muella. It’s a comfortable, tucked in place, where they play world music, where coffee is decent and their wi-fi is good (which is something you don’t find often here). A place that is frequented by musicians from France, as well as all the other nomads. Here you can clearly see The New Earth. Everyone here is or has been practicing spirituality in such a way that it’s become an integrated part of their lives. Here, everyone knows that anything is possible. They’ve seen it many times, felt it, they live the impossible. And they’re alive.

Aware that we are just in transit, we live outside the limits of time. There are only sunrise and sunset. Which reminds me, I ended the previous year by saying goodbye to my favorite lover in a restroom of a club called Transit. It wasn’t particularly romantic, but it was so exciting that we did it once again. He still writes me to ask when we’re going to see each other again, even though he knows I’ll be in warmer parts of the globe until spring. From club Transit straight to a place where everyone is in transit. They know their time is limited, but they don’t rush since everything comes into place nicely and easy.

And, so every day I come to La Muella to write, and lo and behold, Julien keeps coming here as well. That’s his favorite place, too. Someone introduces us and already we start planning to have coffee and breakfast together. He tells me he is in a long-term relationship which has been falling apart for years, but he just can’t seem to let go. In the meantime, he keeps seeing other girls, because he loves sex, but none of that makes him happy. To a question whether I’m seeing someone, I surprise myself and answer Yes, no, maybe, I don’t know.

He tells me that he would like to find some additional work which would provide him with a more substantial income than music, but he doesn’t have the time or the focus, cause he’s clearly in a constant search for a new sexual partner. It’s unreal how much time and energy we waste on the mating game. All this made me so sad because I can’t imagine a better life than life in music, with music. After all, there are so many people who live really well from their music or their art.

– Why couldn’t that be you? – I ask him, laughing at myself. Instead of flirting, I’ve already started having sessions with him. I immerse myself so much in the process that when he starts thinking out loud what he should do after, whether he should go to the beach, I coolly reply that Beach is always a good idea, and I flip open my laptop and stare at the text on the screen.

He stands still, still unable to believe that all these invitation needs – is a reply Sure, I want to go to the beach too. That’s how it goes here, everything builds on each other, simply in passing. We’d already be on his motorbike, with wind playing with our hair, riding towards another country to a beautiful, deserted beach called Paradise.

But, we are still in transit. Both of us are holding on to our return tickets, believing that it’s possible to come back from where we started. How sweet our illusions can be. The next day, during our synchronized meeting at our favorite cafe, we discover that we are both flying to Bali on the same day. Arambol is a super fun vortex, even though Goa is not India, but a lot more international, a gathering of those who are seeking a bit of comfort, even in transit. But nothing is comfortable here, or pleasant.

But in Bali, everything is simply beautiful. You are surrounded by beauty.
Clearly, someone has already planned this journey for us.

You can’t miss anything that’s truly yours.
Not even in transit.