Today I took my bicycle and rode to the beach.

The road there is one I have done many times before, yet somehow it always feels different. Maybe because nature is never truly the same twice. The light changes. The wind changes. The smell of the forest changes. Sometimes the monkeys are there watching silently from the trees, sometimes colorful birds cross the road in front of me, and sometimes the jungle simply breathes around me in silence.

And maybe I change too.

As my legs moved and the wheels rolled through those tropical roads, my mind wandered through everything life has been lately. Through every difficult decision, every fear, every uncertain step that brought me here.

I thought about the life I left behind.
The things I sacrificed.
The moments where I had absolutely no certainty about what would happen next.

And yet… I also thought about how deeply grateful I am for the life I am building.

Because today, while riding toward the ocean surrounded by giant trees, humid air, wildlife, and the sound of life moving all around me, I realized something important:

Abundance is not only about money.

We often grow up believing abundance has a single definition. Financial success. Stability. Possessions. Numbers in a bank account.

And yes, I am still building that part of my life. Financially, I am still growing, still learning, still finding my place and creating something sustainable from my passions and work.

But today I realized that despite all of that, I am already abundant in so many other ways.

I am abundant in courage.

The kind of courage that allowed me to leave behind everything known, even without guarantees. The kind of courage that made me jump into uncertainty searching for a life that felt more aligned with my soul.

There were moments where I had nothing but faith in myself.
Moments where logic would probably have told me not to do it.
Moments where fear sat heavily in my chest.

But I jumped anyway.

Not because I was fearless, but because somewhere deep inside me, I knew staying disconnected from myself would hurt more than uncertainty ever could.

I am abundant in sensitivity.

And honestly, sometimes that sensitivity can feel exhausting. Feeling everything so deeply is not always easy. The world can become overwhelming when your heart absorbs emotions, energies, suffering, beauty, and details with intensity.

But at the same time… what a profound gift it is.

To stand in front of the ocean and truly feel it inside your chest.
To hear the forest breathing around you.
To notice the light filtering through leaves and feel moved by something so simple.
To experience wonder so intensely that it almost brings tears to your eyes.

And perhaps one of the things I treasure the most is this deep feeling of connection with animals and nature.

It is difficult to explain with words, but sometimes it feels like there is an invisible language that exists beyond speech. A silent communication. A reminder that we were never truly separated from the natural world to begin with.

We are nature too.

Sometimes while observing an animal quietly in the forest, there is a moment where the separation disappears completely. A moment where you no longer feel like a visitor standing outside of nature, but part of the same living system.

Those moments heal something inside me every single time.

I am abundant in curiosity.

Curiosity has shaped so much of who I am. It feeds my mind and heart constantly with questions, stories, knowledge, ideas, and wonder. It pushes me to observe deeper, learn more, explore further, and remain open to the endless lessons hidden everywhere around us.

Nature especially has become one of my greatest teachers.

The resilience of tiny creatures.
The intelligence of ecosystems.
The adaptations developed through millions of years of evolution.
The interconnectedness of everything.

The more I learn, the more humbled I feel.

I am abundant in determination too.

And in consistency.
And in the spirit of a fighter.

Because even during my darkest moments — moments where I cried, doubted myself, felt exhausted, lonely, or emotionally broken — I never truly gave up on myself.

Sometimes I moved forward slowly.
Sometimes crawling emotionally.
Sometimes carrying fear with me.

But I kept going.

There is a quiet strength that grows when life forces you to rebuild yourself again and again. And while I still have so much to learn, I feel proud of the resilience I have developed through all of it.

I am also abundant in health, movement, and presence.

Today I realized what a privilege it is to have a body that still allows me to ride long distances, explore forests, climb trails, kneel in the mud photographing tiny creatures, swim in the ocean, and experience this planet fully.

So often we only appreciate these things once they are threatened or gone.

Today abundance looked like this:

The possibility of taking my bicycle and riding toward a tropical beach while exercising both my body and my mind.

Passing through roads filled with life.

Watching monkeys move through the canopy.
Hearing birds singing hidden somewhere above me.
Seeing lizards resting under the tropical sun.
Feeling the warm humid air against my skin.
Witnessing the jungle moving like a living soul around me.

And feeling deeply connected to all of it.

Of course, there are still things I miss.

Sometimes I miss my country.

Not necessarily the life I had there, because big city life often felt rushed, chaotic, disconnected. A rhythm where people barely have time to pause and ask themselves what kind of life they truly want to live.

But there are parts of my culture that live deeply inside me and that I miss almost every day.

I miss the way we build relationships.

The warmth.
The closeness.
The emotional openness.
The long conversations.
The way friendships often become family.
The way people show affection so naturally and intensely.

Every culture has its own beauty. None is better or worse than another, just different ways of seeing, feeling, and moving through life. But when you grow up surrounded by certain ways of connecting, loving, communicating, and building relationships, adapting to different ones can sometimes feel difficult.

Not because one is right and the other wrong, but because parts of your heart were shaped by what once felt familiar and natural to you.

And still, despite the longing, despite the uncertainties, despite the challenges of rebuilding a life far away from everything known…

I feel grateful.

Deeply grateful.

Grateful for the life I am slowly creating here.
Imperfectly.
With effort.
With uncertainty.
With growth.
With love.

A life surrounded by forests, wildlife, rain, tropical beaches, and silence.

A slower life.
A more connected life.
A life that finally feels aligned with who I truly am.

And perhaps that, too, is abundance.