Still Figuring It Out
I didn’t start this from a place of having it all figured out. I started it from a farm in Sardinia, with no savings, no clear path, and a lot of fear.
I’m a Malaysian woman living on an island in the Mediterranean with my husband, a piece of land, a farm project that hasn’t quite taken root yet, and more questions than answers.
I grew up in Malaysia — swimming in rivers, climbing fruit trees, surrounded by a neighbourhood full of noise and life and different kinds of people. Chinese, Malay, Indian families all living alongside each other. It was messy and warm and I didn’t realise until much later how much that shaped me.
Then came twenty years in the city. Then a dream of countryside life. Then Sardinia.
The dream didn’t arrive the way we imagined. The farm project stalled. Money ran thin. I found myself on a piece of land in a foreign country, in a language I didn’t speak well, surrounded by people I wasn’t sure I could trust, with no savings and no map for what came next.
I could have called it failure. Some days I did.
Instead, I read. I meditated. I asked questions I had never had the silence to ask before. I gave Chinese lessons to three kids to stay afloat. I made olive and lavender balm with my hands and sold it at autumn markets. I took a small remote job. I kept going — slowly, quietly, one day at a time.
And somewhere in that uncertainty, I started to actually see.
Not fix. Not arrive. Just see.
I found Eckhart Tolle, Krishnamurti, Mingyur Rinpoche, the Dalai Lama — not in a bookshop browsing casually, but the way you find a rope when you’re drowning. I read them because I needed to. And slowly, the quiet mind they pointed to became more real to me than anything I had chased before.
I noticed something:
Most of the pain I had been carrying wasn’t from the farm, or the money, or the foreign country.
It was from living between — between the past I kept replaying and the future I kept fearing. Between who I was told to be and who I actually was. Between inherited beliefs about what a good life looks like and the life that was actually in front of me.
When I stopped living between — even briefly, even imperfectly — everything softened.
Observation
Take a moment to notice.
Self-Knowledge
See yourself clearly.
Calm
Rest in the present.
That’s what AlpacaSoul is.
Not a teaching. Not a programme. Not answers.
Just a quiet space — made of words, and art, and small objects you can hold in your hands — for the moments when you need someone to say: yes, I feel it too. And there might be another way to see this.
I’m not a guru. I’m not a coach. I’m still in the middle of my own journey.
But I’ve learned that the middle is actually the most honest place to speak from.
If you’re someone who senses there’s more to life than the version you’ve been handed — if you’re tired of chasing and performing and should-ing yourself into exhaustion — if you occasionally wonder whether the way you were taught to see the world is the only way —
This space is for you.
Come as you are. Stay as long as you need.
Simple words for a complicated world.