Until all that remained was my soul,
dancing freely above the clouds


Life broke me down like a domino effect numerous times before my mid-20s.
But the human spirit is unbreakable, once you really test the edge of its capacity.
Every time I thought I'd reached my rock bottom, I somehow got out - and find my way into another one shortly after.

I’d been living, fragmented, for years.
A mind-body disconnect feels like a soul rupture.
Maybe that’s why, the mountains called to me.
This chapter is my Spiritual Pilgrimage, for my soul.


Type 2 Happiness
I was fucking exhausted. Two asthma attacks, ribs shattered from 10 hours of gasping, water pack frozen solid. Survival mode running empty. 

But when I reached Uhuru, I felt free.

And in that moment as I stood at the top
on the edge of the world, heart pounding,  breath stilling, clouds beneath my tiny size 3 feet - I realised, that I did something hard, and I did not quit. 
That I did this, step by step, along with all the broken fragments I used to hide in shadows - now, integrated.

Because to climb Kilimanjaro,
I had to tap into everything I already am -
Not to become her,
But to recognise her reflection in me.

Because my freedom
was never waiting to be found at Uhuru,
It had always been inside of me.

A self-belief so hard that nothing, and no one can ever dismantle me again.

Type 2 Happiness is a rare kind of spiritual transcendence, like the humbling awareness that i brought myself up 5895m, step by step, through my own willpower (and the porters of course). 

I found my Uhuru.
Not the peak—me.

P.S. 'Uhuru' in swahili, means 'freedom'.

Kilimanjaro stripped me bare —
until all that remained was my soul,
dancing freely above the clouds,
on the roof of Africa.

Kilimanjaro was the hardest thing I've ever done. 4ft9s with asthma, aren't built for mountains and high-altitude sickness.
Every step is double the pace just to keep up with everyone else's Pole Pole, while your already-compromised airways fight 50% oxygen like it's only half that.

Still, I climbed.
Higher into the thinning air.
Deeper into myself.

I felt my body unravel,
and with each step,
the past peeled away.
Every chain undone.
Every fragment made whole.


At Stella Point my guide said,
"Kajana, you look sick. Your lips are blue. We need to descend now."
I snapped back:
"It's gna feel like shit either way."
Then dragged my stubborn ass forward.
One step. One breath.
Even half a breath - a victory.

Ten hours of absolute agony until:
"Kajana, look up.
You're at Uhuru Peak now!"
And I broke.
A rib-shattering cry from my soul:
I did it. I did this.

Kili Kaj
Forged from the tension
of her ground pulling apart
the weight of every silence
she’d ever swallowed.

Inner pressure rising
through her dissociated cracks
like magma rising in a rift zone,
up a dormant volcano
that holds the same fire,
beneath the calm exterior
of her self-contained identity.

Pressure peaked inside
the fires of Kilimanjaro,
and she rose
like the freestanding mountain
beneath her feet.


Inca Trail

That moment you reach 
the summit is unmatched.
But climbing the Inca Trail
for 4 long days,
through high altitude sickness,
blistered feet & swollen toes,
bushes for toilets,
wet wipe showers,
and freezing cold 'sleeps'-
I realised for the first time
that the beautiful moments
lie in the journey too!

In the little things,
like a pitch black night sky
where you can see the full Milky Way,
waking up to sunrise,
the sounds of nature,
the smile on the porter's face
when I greet them as wayqui,
and perhaps most importantly,
it's the wholesome interactions
with people from across the world
that you meet along the way.

After learning to truly live in the present
and value the simple pleasures
and to then reach MACHU PICCHU!?
I'll remember that moment for life.
My best memory yet.

Pura Vida
A beautiful philosophy,
in Costa Rica,
to live a life that's simple,
and carefree.

Kaj in Wonderland
I was running low af.
Stuck in routine-
under-stimulated,
under-alive,
with too much bandwidth
romanticising hypotheticals in my mind.

I need to feel small in a big world again.
I need to get lost in a foreign city
where no one knows my name.
I need to be Kaj in motion,
not Kaj in analysis, stuck in her brain.

Dancing. Travelling. Exploring,
No space left to obsess for more.
There is only me,
and the now at the core.

So I'm just going to be Kaj in Wonderland,
and let life meet me there,
in Thailand.

UK National 3 Peaks Challenge

I attempted the UK National 3 Peaks Challenge in October 2024 with my good mate Sav.
Lol — we flopped.
Got so close to Ben Nevis’ summit,
but our guide didn’t let us continue due to dumbass constraints.

But Kaj doesn’t give up!

Summited Ben Nevis on May 31 2025 😉

Yes, I did the 3 Peaks Challenge again.
And no — I did not enjoy Ben Nevis one single bit.

Huffing. Puffing. Bitching. Moaning.
Endless grey trek.
No summit view.
Horrendous hail making an already jarring climb significantly more tapped.
And then you have to get down. -.-

Somewhere in the middle of that misery,
Chris — a Scottish mountaineer buddy — goes:

haha it’s funny isn’t it, how we hate it in the moment, but keep coming back for more?

And weirdly, that made me feel better.

Because even someone as machine-like as Chris
just admitted he too hates the moments on a mountain.
I thought it was just me.

That’s when he explained something mountaineers know well:
Type-2 Fun.
Type-2 Happiness.

You hate it while you’re in it.
But you crave it after.

So that’s why I keep going back to the mountains...
Peak two was Scafell Pike.

That’s where I injured my knee.
Tears from the pain.
Guide turned me back.

I was pissed.

Because I did not rebook this challenge
with the intention of coming back for a third.
This was supposed to be my training ground for Kilimanjaro the following month.

Tears were shed.
Breakdowns were made.

I don’t even know why I assigned myself this crazy ass task
to be the thing that saved me
from whatever crap I was battling inside unbeknownst to me.

The next morning, I woke up ready for war.

Well — Snowdon.

No one gets to take this away from me.

They said Snowdon was the most beautiful.
Sunrise views.
Warm coffee at a summit café.

Did I mention I’d injured my knee on Scafell Pike?

Yep.

I climbed up and down Snowdon
with that same injured knee.

And somehow —
it vanished next to my defiant decision
to conquer Snowdon no matter what.

And when I reached that summit?

TYPE-2 HAPPINESS EMBODIMENT MAXED OUT.

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