I’m recycling stages of spiritual growth. I remember the feeling of wanting everything, having expectations, and then, exhausting myself into maturity and realizing that all I want is to simply be, and to be ok with just being.

Now, I can feel myself settling into this cozy space again as the stability I had in Mumbai fades and the universe kicks in to keep me on track as I city-hop.

The comforts in India are few and virtually nothing gives me a feeling of the familiarity of home. Actually, last night, the overnight bus stopped at a chai stand. There, I asked for a toilet and was directed to squat behind a dilapidated building. Peeing outside felt like home. Hiking and peeing outside would have been even better. But besides that, everything is different.

A young Indian man stopped me to ask if my perception of India before coming was the same as what I was actually seeing here. My Mom had told me a lot about India, so I was able to say yes, they match up exactly. In fact, I felt none of the culture shock that people describe. Everything just is, in front of me. The cows eating burning trash, the goats eating regular trash, the living conditions, the people…living as they live. I haven’t had feelings either way about what I’ve seen. Neutral! Success.

Either way, I left the comfort of TYI and I owe the universe a big bowl of gratitude for how perfectly it has set up the transition. I asked for a sign, and it sent me to Rann of Kutch. Cool nature, but curated for the glitzy glam crowd, so I wouldn’t have chosen it independently. However, the universe again brought me exactly what I needed.

The sign came in the form of a gift from a friend only a few hours after my request for some obvious direction. I keep finding myself standing next to the bathroom sink talking to the universe out loud: “ok, universe, please make it so obvious that I can’t miss it.” I don’t know why I always talk to the universe while standing in the bathroom, but it seems to work.

I received a deck of cards with pictures of places in India on them. I laughed out loud at the sight. I flipped through them quickly and one caught my eye. Of course, my friend’s husband has an adventure company and they had a trip leaving on the last day of my course to that exact location (Rann of Kutch).

There were 10 others on the trip. These people were nothing like me, but we found a way to connect, laugh and I found a way to be myself again. I cared little about what they thought. There had been a high potential for loneliness after leaving my TYI friends, but it was avoided.

The universe continued to help me. It had sent me Jaisalmer, another desert city. Again, not a huge interest in this place, but it sent me for good reason.

I arrived in Jaisalmer at 9am, having taken the overnight bus from Bhuj. The bus slowed at airport circle and familiar loneliness rose within me. I had had a day filled with kind chats with strangers the day before (my favorite), so the loneliness seemed out of place. Still, it was there. I pushed myself to get out to see the city. I walked through streets with countless men calling for my attention. They wanted me to take a tuktuk ride, a motorcycle ride, eat at their restaurant or buy the goods they were selling. I didn’t fit in, but I was happy I wasn’t blonde at least. Maybe that saved me some of the haranguing.

A few of the men just seemed interested in being kind, but it would be naïve to fully believe that. One man allowed me to visit the roof of his hotel for the view. We talked for a while. His family owned the hotel and had been open for 15 years since the fort was converted to allow tourism. He grew up in the desert and claimed he would always belong there, hoping to retire soon from the hotel and return there until he died. He recommended a city to visit next: Pushkar; and a restaurant for lunch: the Sunset Palace.

I continued my walk and yet another man stopped me. He showed me the roof view from his restaurant, which overlooked the Jain temple. He seemed less innocent than the first. He invited me to his village and to show me the ruins around the city. No, keep moving.

Next I met a man who owned a jewelry shop containing his own contemporary designs. He shared that despite his families push for him to join the gold jewelry business like everyone else in his caste, so that he would be wealthy, he insisted on making the artistic, modern designs that he sold in his shop. India didn’t have much of a market for what he designed, so he had to sell and live in places that attracted tourists, away from his family. He felt it was courageous for him to continue to work the way he did. He invited me back for tea anytime.

Finally, after giving a street cow a good head scratch, I wandered around a corner and found the restaurant. Up the stairs to the platform giving a bird’s view of the city, I noticed a man around my age laying next to one of the low tables reading. He perked up when I entered.

The next four hours were spent eating, talking, playing guitar (mostly him serenading me…I’m quite rusty), enjoying the company. We both were long term travelers and sharing time together was a nice change from wandering around alone. We felt quite connected.

Eventually, he shared he had a bus to another city in a few hours. A day and a half later, after more star alignment, we walked to have a chai, in the streets of Pushkar together.

It has been a while since I’ve had a travel companion…I remember the last time actually (besides the Camiño and Dolomites). That companion and I didn’t remain as good of friends after the trip. Neither of us were good at being clear about what we wanted then. Now, I’d say things are moving along successfully, but I can still see the ways my old habits limit me.

While at TYI, I had asked for a travel buddy, and it had only taken a few days for the universe to produce one. I was led straight to him, thanks to my string of shop owners.