The Notebook that Reminded me I'm Exactly Where I'm Meant to Be

A story of a full circle synchronicity.

The notebook that amped up my trust in the Universe.

This may just look like a regular old notebook to you, but to me, it’s a sign that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be—at least for the moment.

In 2016, my partner who I had imagined myself being with forever, broke up with me and encouraged me to embark on my lifelong dream of travelling Australia. By that time, I had somehow already acquired two Lonely Planet Australia books, just begging to be used, but I could never find the right time because life always got in the way.¹

I was resistant to the change, as I usually was back then. I didn’t want to walk away from a relationship I thought I would be a part of for the rest of my life, his family who felt more like home than my own, the job that presented like success because I was making more money than most people my age, and the sheer bliss of feeling like I belonged to something bigger than myself.

I was young, naive, and stuck in the idea of a fairytale that would never play out the way I wanted it to.

That was the year I quit my job, sold my truck, and packed my belongings into his parents’ storage unit—leaving pieces of me at home, already anticipating my return. We went through my things together, as he held up a grey cardigan I was prepared to throw out, the words “you can’t throw this away, it reminds me of you,” came from his lips, instantly bringing tears to my eyes as I realised things would never be the same between us, or within me, ever again.

It didn’t make sense to me how he could want to part ways, but still want things to stay the same.

I don’t know if I hoped by keeping it, I would be keeping the possibility alive that we could come back together after my year in Australia. That I would come back and it would be as if I had never left.

July 2016, I logged onto Etsy to find a notebook to track my experiences throughout my time in Australia—I wanted to remember the feelings, the brave acts of solo female travel, and everything I didn’t yet know what would be. It arrived in time for my departure, and I carried it with me as one of my most prized possessions throughout my trip.

That notebook brought me through my travels up the east coast of Australia, all the way to the west coast, across the Nullarbor, and to Bali—where I spent two weeks doing yoga, not knowing where I would end up next.

I travelled wherever the wind blew me, without a plan, taking one step at a time for the first time in my life—it was the most freeing experience.

I was quickly realising my previous definition of success was severely flawed.

When I was in Bali, one of the yoga teachers stopped me after class. I forget her name now, but the conversation we had was one I will never forget. It was the conversation that changed my life trajectory without me knowing it at the time.

She told me about this small town in Northern Thailand, called Pai—at this time, most of the travellers who found themselves in Pai got here by word of mouth², and this was exactly what happened in this conversation with this yoga teacher.

It was at that moment I decided Pai would be my next destination after leaving Bali. What did I have to lose?

It was only after about four years of being here already that I walked into the local swimming pool—a place where we would often go with friends, to hang out, eat, and drink that it finally clicked.

I had known I was meant to be here in a sense, but there has always been a part of me that wondered if I was just running away or living in delusion while avoiding the “real life” that many often fall into by default.

When I walked into the pool that day, I saw a table full of the same leather journals I had purchased about five years before.

I stopped in my tracks—and instantly felt my heart swell up and sink to my stomach.

My brain started running in circles, telling myself that there was no way they were the same. I ran home after the pool day and quickly logged onto my email—yes, I’m one of those people who keep everything, even receipts for notebooks from Etsy.

The screenshot from the email—the exact district of where I am now.

Before I had even known I would be here, I was being called. Some may call it coincidence, but I would call it a complete synchronicity—the Universe conspiring to place me exactly where I needed to be. Where I died and was reborn over and over again; where I faced my darkness and turned it into light; where I fell in love and picked up the pieces of my broken heart multiple times; and where I met my true self.

This was the moment I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be.

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It has since been eight years since my first arrival here, and a lot has happened. I’ll be going deep into it on the Speak to the Dark Parts Podcast, so be sure to subscribe if you’d like to listen as soon as it drops!

Find it on Youtube, Apple, and Spotify, too!

Have you ever experienced a synchronicity that let you know you’re on the right track? I’d love to hear about it in the comments!

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This story was prompted by

Jocelyn Lovelle

through

Writers at Work

office hours with Sarah Fay.

1. Isn’t it funny how we make excuses for not following our dreams and call it “life?” 🧐

2. Now it’s become quite well known since tourism is booming and social media is bigger.