A Visit to the Batu Caves: Finding Stillness in the Humidity
After leaving the U.S. in February 2025, my pivot has continued bringing me new adventures, both expected and deeply surprising. A short trip to Malaysia from my home in Thailand led me to one of the most unforgettable places I’ve visited so far: the Batu Caves.
Located just outside of Kuala Lumpur, the Batu Caves are a series of limestone caves and Hindu shrines guarded by a towering golden statue of Lord Murugan. The 272 steps leading up to the main cave are painted in bright, joyful colors, each one pulling you closer toward something ancient and beautiful. I was looking forward to visiting the Batu Caves since I landed in Southeast Asia. No matter how much I envisioned it, it was not what I expected. It provided so much more.
At the entrance, surrounded by both tourists and worshippers, monkeys walked freely through the crowd. That was one of my biggest hesitations about visiting. When I tell people about the caves. Their initial response has been, “I have heard they will pick your pocket.” That is so far from the truth. When I arrived, and they walked calmly around me as if I wasn’t there, all my worries faded. They were simply part of the environment, moving with familiarity and grace, uninterested in the human presence. All the while eating bananas or oranges.
Climbing the stairs was not a concern. I have done the Calabasas Hidden Stairs and the Santa Monica stairs more times than I can count. But the heat, the Malaysian heat, was something else entirely. I do not think I have ever moved my body in such humidity. It was not just the temperature, it was the way it wrapped around your skin, sat on your shoulders, and refused to let go.
As I ascended, monkeys moved effortlessly along the railings, some sliding down, some with bananas or oranges in hand. Mothers clutched their babies with a kind of stillness that stopped me mid-step. Interestingly, none of the monkeys entered the caves, they stayed outside, almost as if they, too, knew the caves held a quiet sacredness.
At the top, I was met with the cool, damp breath of the cave. My body was begging for water, and thankfully, vendors waited near the entrance with drinks and small snacks. As I stood, drinking and catching my breath, I looked up, and everything stilled. The limestone walls, shaped by time, opened to patches of sky. Light streamed through the crevices, making the air shimmer.
I stood there, not as a tourist, but as someone in the middle of a life shift, letting it all sink in. If I were home, my mind would be racing, thinking of what’s next. But here, in this cave, with sweat on my skin and gratitude in my chest, I was still.
I thank God for moments like this, where I don’t have to convince myself I am at peace.
I simply am.
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