Morning in Bali is a special slow state. There is not a single cloud in the sky, and the sun does not tear you out of sleep, but gently makes it clear that it is time to open your eyes. I do not get up right away - sometimes I allow myself to lie down and just listen to the ocean rustling somewhere in the distance. It is like a light meditation.

The first thing I do is take a coconut and go barefoot onto the veranda. The air is warm, humid, as if enveloping. You sit down, take a sip, and suddenly realize that there is no need to hurry. Everything most important is already happening.

I often write down individual thoughts in a notebook in the morning - not a diary, just random phrases that come to mind against the background of silence. Sometimes, instead, I just sit and watch the locals wrap rice in banana leaves or someone carry a basket of fruit on their head, and this makes the mood light and warm.

Breakfast here is a small ritual. Mango, yogurt, some rice - everything is simple, but as if created for such a morning. Sometimes I take a bike and go to the beach - the early sun makes the water almost mirror-like. And sometimes I just stay and listen to the sounds - the whistle of birds, the light rustle of leaves and the quiet murmur of a nearby scooter.

And what I like is that even the simplest things are perceived differently here. A walk along the rice terraces, the smell of coffee, a short conversation with a fruit seller - and all this feels like part of your own rhythm. In Bali, the morning does not begin, it unfolds gradually - and if you take your time, it can reveal things that are simply not noticeable in ordinary life.