When I am in Bali, I feel connected to the land. To the people. To the spirits of this island in the middle of the sea. Floating on a planet in the space of the universe.
I am a small dot yet I am part of the whole. In the intricate web of life, we are all linking arms and hearts. Joining together, pouring energy of who we are into the community kettle.
We are love. A whirling swirling column of love. Nothing can penetrate. Except love.
When I am in Bali all the bullshit is stripped away. The layers of grime that have accumulated as a wall of protection around me quickly melt away.
The spirit surrounds me and holds me like a child.
Flowers fall like raindrops on my head and shoulders. Holy water sprinkled over me feels like silken gold merging with my hair and my soul.
The spirit of the mountain is strong. She is rumbling. Restless.
It's time for us all to wake up. Rise up. Hear the call of Surya and Gaia.
She has asked politely and now will stand in her power. Speak her truth.
Listen to the whisper before she roars. Her breath is fire and smoke and ash.
When I am in Bali the smell of frangiapani fills me up. The taste of chili pepper teases my tongue. The humid air on my skin makes me sweat.
Cleaning me.
Clearing me.
My scent is turmeric and galengal and lemongrass and garlic and sweet ripe fruit.
A world of spice on my skin.
The ocean waves crash and dance and caress the shore. Birds do the tango weightless in the air. Crabs move to and fro over mossy rocks searching for today's breakfast.
Doves coo
Frogs croak
Mosquitoes nibble
Monkeys chatter
The rain falls
Lighting fills the night sky
And all the while the people pray. Bringing calm and beauty to everything.
Connecting heaven and earth.
I am a small dot yet I am part of the whole. In the intricate web of life, we are all linking arms and hearts. Joining together, pouring energy of who we are into the community kettle.
We are love. A whirling swirling column of love. Nothing can penetrate. Except love.
When I am in Bali all the bullshit is stripped away. The layers of grime that have accumulated as a wall of protection around me quickly melt away.
The spirit surrounds me and holds me like a child.
Flowers fall like raindrops on my head and shoulders. Holy water sprinkled over me feels like silken gold merging with my hair and my soul.
The spirit of the mountain is strong. She is rumbling. Restless.
It's time for us all to wake up. Rise up. Hear the call of Surya and Gaia.
She has asked politely and now will stand in her power. Speak her truth.
Listen to the whisper before she roars. Her breath is fire and smoke and ash.
When I am in Bali the smell of frangiapani fills me up. The taste of chili pepper teases my tongue. The humid air on my skin makes me sweat.
Cleaning me.
Clearing me.
My scent is turmeric and galengal and lemongrass and garlic and sweet ripe fruit.
A world of spice on my skin.
The ocean waves crash and dance and caress the shore. Birds do the tango weightless in the air. Crabs move to and fro over mossy rocks searching for today's breakfast.
Doves coo
Frogs croak
Mosquitoes nibble
Monkeys chatter
The rain falls
Lighting fills the night sky
And all the while the people pray. Bringing calm and beauty to everything.
Connecting heaven and earth.
