There once
was a girl, who at the tender age of 47 went to the island of Bali and she
forgot to go home.
She was enchanted and held by this magical place and could
not bring herself to leave. She knew there was something important here that
she must do.
She spent
her days with the Balinese people, learning the language and the culture. She
was invited to ceremonies for tooth filings, cremations, weddings, for the a
girls first menstruation, for the first time a baby touches the ground at 6
months of age, blessings of animals and of all things mechanical, ceremonies
honoring Dewi Sri, the goddess of the rice fields and Saraswati, the goddess of
knowledge and learning.
She was
given the name Ketut Ayu. Ketut is the fourth child in a family and Ayu means
beautiful.
She went
on many adventures around the island. Trips to the ocean to snorkel and swim,
to blissful waterfalls and sacred streams, she explored wondrous volcanoes and
sumptuous temples with names like The Full Moon Temple, The Bat Cave Temple,
The Elephant Cave Temple, Tirta Empul, and the most important Besaki – The Mother Temple in
the center of Bali.
She
learned to meditate and pray and to teach yoga. And she made many friendships
to last a lifetime. She learned tantric breathing and energy healing and she
was fully present and more alive than ever.
She lived
in the rhythm of her village life. Up with the sun, asleep with the nightfall.
The concept of time did not really exist. It is measured in Bali by a “rubber
watch”, meaning that time is flexible and expandable and no one is confined by
it.
Her home
in Bali was a former wig factory that had been made into a beautiful feminine
space, complete with brilliant colored fabrics, many soft cushions and a sweet
little kitchen where she loved to cook and make special teas. The fountain in
the middle of the garden was a gorgeous nude goddess who inspired her each day.
And the
people came every morning at 7 am. They would pick flowers from the garden and
together offer them to Saraswati and ask for her blessings. They would meditate
and share a yoga practice. Life was very peaceful and beautiful.
She wore
flowers in her hair and used them each day in her offerings, in her tea, in her
bath and to decorate her motorbike. She was creative and expressive and she was
radiating the beauty that surrounded her.
She hung
out at the small warungs (cafes) with her Balinese friends and at the tailor
shop drinking strong coffee and eating sweet rice while practicing Indonesian
and English with Ibu Made.
She
volunteered at Sari Hati school for disabled children and she was filled with
immense joy at the sight of this very special group of kids. Komang would do
card tricks and read her palm and teach her to play drums from his wheelchair
seat.
She went
to see Balinese healers who would poke her feet with sticks and spread herbs
and holy water on her and interpret her dreams.
She lived
her home with butterflies and bats, frogs and snakes, stray dogs and cats and
an extended gecko family.
She lived
in complete harmony with nature and the people and the beauty of the island.
And one
day, to her surprise, seven months had passed. And it was time to go home. She went
with a joy in heart and the knowledge that she would return to Bali someday
soon.
Terimakasi banyak, Ibu Bali.
