Two years ago, when I returned to Vietnam, a trip to Phu Quoc led me to one of the most profound encounters of my life. I was guided to meet this Grandfather Tree—a magnificent, ancient being standing by the sea, radiating pure life force.
At that time, I was still navigating a great culture shock. After living abroad for 25 years, I had consciously chosen to return to Vietnam, but it didn’t feel like home. I found myself in between places, doing monthly visa runs, living between Bali and Vietnam—yet, somehow, Bali felt more like home than my motherland.
And then, I met him. A guardian of the earth. A keeper of wisdom. He had stood there for hundreds of years, observing the tides, the winds, and the ever-unfolding journey of life.
Sitting with him, something profound happened. My heart opened. Through him, I connected with my ancestors—not just those from my immediate family, but the collective lineage of the Vietnamese people. It was as if a veil had lifted, and I could feel their presence, their love, their calling.
Something shifted deep within me. When I returned to Bali, it felt like a foreign land, not a place I had once belonged to. Vietnam was calling me home.
From that moment, I began a new journey—a quest to find a piece of land to build my home, to root myself in the place I once felt disconnected from, but now felt deeply woven into.
Yesterday, I returned to pay tribute to the Grandfather. He still stands in his quiet magnificence, his presence as loving and nurturing as ever. I whispered my gratitude — for his wisdom, for his guidance, for helping me remember where I truly belong.
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