There once was a girl who went to Bali

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.