Why I’m Going to Bali: Healing Is a Journey, Not a Destination

As a healing facilitator, trauma recovery coach, and energy healing practitioner, my life and work are deeply centred around supporting others through moments of transition, grief, and nervous system overwhelm. Holding space for healing is something I do with great care and reverence — and it’s also work that asks a lot of the body, the heart, and the spirit.

What is just as important — and something I believe we need to speak about more openly — is that healers are also human.

For the last few years, my own life has required me to be in a caregiving role for my mother during a significant decline in her health, right through to her passing. Caregiving, especially when layered with anticipatory grief and love, is its own form of trauma. It is exhausting in ways that aren’t always visible.

Caregiver burnout is real, and it doesn’t disappear simply because we are trained, intuitive, or spiritually grounded.

This journey to Bali is not a “getaway.” It is a conscious decision to tend to the places in me that need rest, integration, and restoration after giving so much of myself for so long.

I’ve been to Bali before, during a different season of my life. At that time, I had hoped the experience would be restorative, but I now understand that I simply wasn’t in a place where true rest was possible. Sometimes healing doesn’t happen because the timing isn’t right — not because we’ve failed, but because we’re still learning how to listen to ourselves.

Returning now feels intentional. Grounded. Chosen.

Not to recreate the past, but to meet myself where I am today — with more clarity, steadier boundaries, and deeper self-trust.

I’m going to Bali for nervous system repair.

For grief integration.

For quiet listening.

For allowing myself to be held instead of holding everything together.

I also believe it’s important for those I work with to witness this choice. Healing is not a destination we arrive at and stay in forever. It is a living, evolving journey. There are seasons of growth, seasons of rest, and seasons where we must step back and tend to ourselves — even when (and especially when) we are the ones others look to for support.

If I ask others to honour their limits, listen to their bodies, and choose their own healing, then I must be willing to do the same — visibly, honestly, and without apology.

This time away is part of my commitment to integrity — to my work, my clients, and myself.

Some things will quiet while I’m away. Some offerings will continue gently from a distance. And when I return, it will be with more space in my nervous system, more clarity in my body, and a deeper capacity to hold others from a place that is resourced rather than depleted.

This is me choosing myself — not instead of my work, but in service to it.

Thank you for walking alongside me. 🤍