I swam in the warm pool without direction, flipping underwater every so often. I thought about this trip, about why I had flown halfway around the world to be here. Healing, discovering, connecting, manifesting — vague hopes that I wanted to more clearly define. I knew Bali could help me with that, and not just because “Eat Pray Love” said so. I travel because it frees me and helps me reshape my story, and better understand how I want to live. My husband came back with the coffee. Glaze-eyed from jetlag, he held up two plastic bags heavy with hot black liquid. “This is coffee to-go,” he said.