Bali wasn’t my first option. I had visited before. It was beautiful, but it didn’t stay with me. I never imagined that a few years later, I would return, and that this island would change me in ways I couldn’t have planned. I arrived with a 45-litre backpack, two pairs of shoes, a few dresses, and an open heart. I came for an internship, to help with sustainable business, but Bali offered me something more. It slowed me down. It asked me to listen, to observe, to be present. Before I even began my placement, someone said Astungkara to me. It was the first Indonesian word shared with me, just before I passed my interview. It means “God willing” or “if the universe allows.” It felt like a quiet blessing, and now, it has become something I live by. A reminder that the most meaningful paths are the ones we walk with trust, not control.
In my internship with a small business consultancy, I’ve worked closely with foreign entrepreneurs. My main focus has been encouraging fair salaries for local Balinese employees. I believe that if we want this island to grow, then its communities must grow too. It is not only expats who deserve a good lifestyle, but everyone. One business owner, after a long conversation, gave their team a raise. It wasn’t just business. It was healing. It was balance. It was karma in motion. What has moved me most, though, is working alongside local farmers, shop owners, and families. For many of them, sustainability isn’t a trend—it’s a way of life. Waste management, composting, and using every part of what nature gives isn’t something they had to learn, it’s something in their roots. Respect for the land has been passed down through generations, like language and ritual. It’s in their hands, their habits, their ceremonies.
Bali taught me how to live more slowly. Like the rice fields, I now follow cycles. I rise with the sun, walk more, buy less. I carry my own jar, cutlery, cloth bag. I buy fruit wrapped in banana leaves. I pick up rubbish when I see it, not out of guilt, but out of love. Two years ago, in Sri Lanka, I joined a beach clean-up. It began as volunteering. Now it’s a way of living. A quiet act of care. I’ve found comfort in Buddhist teachings and the belief in karma. That we don’t take what isn’t ours. That no one should go hungry, or be left without love. That what we give, we receive.
R.A. Kartini once wrote, “After darkness, comes light.” I believe that light begins within. If we want to change the world, we must first live the change we wish to see. The Sustainable Development Goals are not just global—they are personal. Bali helped me see that. And now, I can finally and openly say: a career in sustainability is not just my path, it is my purpose.
