Ode To The Om Shanti

The rushing creek is talking to me here

One last time

Giving me its blessings

Sending me on my way

Chris Falls

 

The fire of the autumn leaves

Lighting my way

The crisp cool air clearing my head

The majestic mountain with its arms open wide

Pointing the way home

Telling me that home is in my heart

 

Thank you for this important time

11 years

the number 2

I am now one

Everything is as it should be

 

I leave behind a house of memories

Some good, some sad

For the next family

To sit in this spot and make their own memories

I leave happiness

of a brand new life

a new chapter

yet to be written

Thank you for all that you have given me

The space in between

There is a place
In between
so sweet
so perfect
like the center of a cinnamon roll

When I inhale
the space in between the exhale

In my bed
the space in between wake and sleep

When I practice yoga
the space in between balance and falling

At 6 in the morning
The space in between night and day

When I look into Julian's face
the space in between a thought and a word

When I meditate
the space between my two eyes
the space between each chakra

When I forward bend
the space between each vertebrae

When I put socks on my feet
the space between cold and warm

The space in between
is when all is right with the world
perfect balance
the tipping point
sama-sama

Silence

I sit here on this Wednesday morning, the last day of August. The air is growing colder here in the Utah mountains, where I've been for the last month, almost.

I have had the amazing blessing of being able to spend time in a little cabin in the mountains. Alone and quiet. There is a lot of history here. It's the place where my husband and I met, had our courtship, became engaged and got married. Ten years ago.  My life has changed so much since then. In incredible ways.

And now I have been able to be here for about 20 days, most of them spent in silence. Just me, the trees and the constant sound of the rushing creek. I don't know when I have ever spent this much time alone and it's been an incredible experience. The universe has conspired to give me this important time, gift wrapped in a beautiful package.

Time to write, reflect, rest, meditate, listen to music, go for long walks and watch the season change from summer to fall.

This cabin is a small A-frame style. Simple and comfortable. The walk down from the parking area is somewhat steep and long. The cabin sits on a hillside off the main road with a beautiful stream in the back. There are not many neighbors here and it's isolated. Something that was scary to me in the past. I have always had a lot of people around me and stay busy with social events. I have always valued my alone time but didn't take much of it.

The front door

The deck in the back looks out over the stream. When I first arrived it was full and roaring. More water than I had ever seen because of the heavy rains of the spring and early summer. It's now slowed down considerably but still constantly rushing by. Never ending. Always there with it's comforting sound.

I love to be outside, reading or sitting for an hour in meditation. I roll my yoga mat out in the mornings before the sun gets too hot and stretch and move my body. I feel like the luckiest girl alive.

An angel after the rain

Julian has come and spent a few nights with me and he likes it here a lot. It's a great place for a little boy who wants to explore, climb on the rocks, pick flowers, swing in a hammock, feed the horses and build a little house out of pillows and blankets to sleep in. We brought him here for the first time when he was about 8 days old and made him a little bed in a pulled out dresser drawer. He was so tiny then....

Pool side musings

Hot desert heat envelopes me

Like a wool blanket

Even after the sun goes down, the thermometer still registers 98 degrees

Hot

Heavy

Heat

Wrapping around my brain

Families with kids eating pizza by the pool

Tattoos and hard black bodies

Red swim trunks on a football players body

Soaking in the solar rays

Energy

Heat

Vacation

Where will we all be at this time next year?

The young hotel worker on a break. Smoking. Looking down from his perch

Sizing everyone up

Wondering what I'm writing about

Hot wind like the breath of a dragon

I feel very disconnected from these people

Too many for a small hotel pool

Are the kids peeing in there?

Ambient mood music coming from 6 wall speakers around the chemical-filled liquid cool

Las Vegas 2011

I'm here in Sin City with my friend Amber. And it's hot here in the desert. I mean really, really hot. Yesterday I was walking down the strip and literally felt my sunglasses melting on my face. Bali was hot, but with lots of moisture. Vegas is just plain piping, direct, oven-heat, house-on-fire HOT.

I am tagging along with my friend on a business trip. It's pretty great because we're staying in a lovely business hotel. Not even a slot machine in site. They all know her here because this is her home for one week a month, so we're treated like royalty. The room is the size of an apartment and I get to hang out all day while she toils away selling top quality vitamins and supplements to wonderful health conscious stores.

Needless to say, Vegas is a strange place to be after Ubud, Bali. There are probably not two more complete opposite cities on the planet....I thought I would hate being here, but instead I look at it all with a child like curiosity. I'm amazed that we as a race have come to this place in our "civilization." Vegas is all about distraction from what it means to be a human being. It's about living in a complete fantasy world. Which I guess is ok for a few days a year when you're on vacation from your "real" life. But what about the people who live and work here? How strange it must be...

One of the most wacky things to me is that now there isn't even a human being at the card table. It's a computer generated image of a woman who looks you in the eye and deals cards to you via another computer in front of the chair where you sit..... It's all very bizarre and funny to me.

Tonight we are going to see a Cirque Du Soleil show all about the Beatles music. I'm looking forward to it.

Viva Las Vegas baby.

"Las Vegas is Everyman's cut-rate Babylon.  Not far away there is, or was, a roadside lunch counter and over it a sign proclaiming in three words that a Roman emperor's orgy is now a democratic institution.  "Topless Pizza Lunch."  ~Alistair Cooke

"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."  ~Jeff Candido and Jason Hoff, advertising slogan written for the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority, 2002

Back in Time

From my journal, dated May 17, 2011

Ubud, Bali

The sun rises and so do I. I bath my body and scent it with oils of lavender and lemon. I put the water on to boil and create today's tea: rosella flowers, lemongrass, ginger, palm sugar and cinnamon.

I dress and brush my teeth, turn on the fountain in the garden and roll out my yoga mat. 

I begin to stretch and move my somewhat stiff body after many hours of lying still in sleep. I think about my dreams of the night before. 

The garden

The people of my village are awake and active at this early hour. Roosters are crowing, dogs are barking and people are making their way to the market to sell their fruit and vegetables. They carry great piles of green leafy spinach, bananas and heavy coconuts on their heads as they walk the mile into town. 

At the small village temple next door there is constant construction. Across the road, the rice farmers in their bamboo hats begin to plant and harvest the rice, depending on the time in the three month cycle. They heard large groups of ducks into the fields, shepherding them with a long bamboo pole with a piece of cloth tied to the end. This way they can lift up the pole to warn motorists to watch out for the ducks as they cross the road. The ducks are very important to the rice farmers and to the rice crops. They eat bugs and weeds that would harm the rice plants, and naturally aerate the soil with their little duck feet. 

The fountain in the garden

At 7 am people begin to arrive at my home. RJ from London; a dear friend and confidant, Marcia from Portugal; my soul sister, teacher and gifted healer, Ketut and her husband Putu, brother in law Gede, and Komang and Mira, all from Ubud. 

We spend an hour chanting sanskrit verses and in meditation. It is an incredibly powerful practice and I am so grateful for it. The energy of having many people in the same room meditating is greatly magnified. I have never before practiced meditation on a consistent basis, and I am amazed at the many positive things it has brought to my life. 

My alter

After meditation, I lead the group in an hour and a half yoga practice. I am learning so much from this group of people and so grateful for this practice. 

When we finish, we share hot tea and fruit and finish by 10. 

My house

This day is a busy one; I have an appointment with Nyoman to get my new tattoo, bahasa Indonesian lessons, and dinner with a friend. In between I sneak into a spa and get some much needed waxing. I find on this day that with the removal of body hair comes an incredible lightness of being :)

Nyoman - creating my new tattoo

Selemat Ulang Tahun

The dawn of my 48th year

in this body

on this planet

Love abounds

Beauty surrounds

My heart is relaxed

I am humbled by the blessings in my life

I trust in the universe

I trust in myself

To be

Just to be

that is all I need to do

Doors open

Doors close

as butterflies dance around them

decorating with color and light

All we need to do is listen

Mountain Morning

Warm sunlight bathes my face
Ancient trees stand guard around my soul
The stream rushes furiously by
With no where to go
I am protected and held
Mt. Timpanogos watches over
Bits of pure white snow as her jewels
Butterflies of all colors float by
Doing the butterfly tango on this beautiful stage
There is a blissful nature spirit here
In spite of the mansions that have replaced the trees
Spirit lives on
Evolution is at work
I am peace
Peace is in me
Om shanti

Blogging

Ah, my poor little blog has been very empty and lonely these past weeks.

I am back in America and finding my way after living in the magic of Bali for seven months. And things are playing out in amazing and wonderful ways.

I plan to spend the next several days writing and reflecting as I am tucked away in my little cabin in the mountains of Sundance.

I feel very inspired to focus on my writing and now is the time to do it. I am surrounded by beautiful pine trees, a rushing stream and majestic Mt. Timpanogos with only my thoughts and words to put down on paper, er computer. I have volumes of hand written journals to refer to  and many ideas are peculating around in my brain....

Many thanks for your kind support always and for reading my words.

Terima kasih banyak!
(thank you very much!)

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.

This little piggy went to the ceremony

Early this morning as I drink my tea and watch the new day unfold, I hear strange sounds coming from the temple next door. Lots of rustling around, and men with raised voices, which is a very unusual occurrence. The multiple dogs in the compound begin to bark and whine. And then I hear a high picked squeal that can only come from a pig. More yelling from the men. One more squeal from the pig and I finally realize what's happening.

Soon 4 men come out of the compound with a 300 pound pig tied to a bamboo pole, carrying it on their shoulders. They look happy as they heave the large (rather dead) animal into the back of the truck and drive away.

They will use the pig in one of many large temple ceremonies that happen here on a daily basis. They will use every part of the pig to celebrate a wedding or a blessing of some kind.

The blood of the pig is used to make a special Balinese dish called "lawar". It is mixed with vegetables and spices after the vegetables are cooked and happily eaten by all the people at the ceremony.

If you want to make lawar and don't happen to have a pig to kill for this purpose, you can easily purchase pig blood at the local market.

This culture continues to fascinate and enchant me every day....

Some Funny/Interesting Things About Bali

1) In Bali, a cell phone is a way of life. It is called a "hand phone" or "hp". People use it to text or "sms" as a way to communicate. Few people make actual calls. Phones run on a pay-as-you-go system. The credit is called "pulsa". When you run out of pulsa you must go to a small kiosk and get more added to your account. I got an sms from a friend one day that said "I have no pulse". A very funny mistake.

2) a bicycle is called a "push bike"

3) when you buy veggies or fruit in the supermarket, you must first take them to the veggie guy to weigh, bag, and put a price tag on before going to the check out.

4) if the cashier does not have "small money" to make change, they give you a little candy mint instead. But when I try to use this same mint to pay for my groceries the next time, they won't take it. :)

5) a bottle of water costs me around 6,000 rupiah. My rent is 4 million rupiah per month. My motorbike costs me 700,000 a month. All those zeros take some getting used to.

6) There are temple ceremonies happening each day for things like blessing of anything mechanical, blessing of the rice fields, blessing of the animals, blessing of the time a baby first touches the ground at 6 months old, or blessing of a girls first menstruation, blessing of a new house or business, full moon ceremonies along with hundreds of others. When ceremonies take place, people cannot come to work so a shop or office just closes.

7) Everyone in Bali celebrates 2 birthdays a year, six months apart.

8) A person cannot move into a new house until the geckos, spiders and ants do. Nature gets the utmost respect.

9) The concept of time does not really exist in Bali. People say that time in Bali is measured by a "rubber watch" meaning that time is flexible and expandable and people are not confined by it.

10) when a baby is born, it is believed that the soul of a relative who has passed away is reborn into the baby.

11) I have never seen a Balinese person get angry or say a cross word.

12) I have never seen a Balinese with a cast or a bandage on. This is particularly surprising given the number of motorbikes that are ridden around each day.

13) If a Balinese person gets sick, they usually go to a healer instead of a doctor.

Purification

So many things have been happening here in my little house in Bali. I almost don’t know where to begin.

April 23 is the day of Saraswati, the Goddess of Knowledge and Learning. A huge day of festival and celebration here. My dear friend Ketut brings special flower offerings she made for the day. She tells me to gather all of my most important books and place the beautiful offerings on the books, light incense sticks and do my prayers of thanks. 

Later in the day, I accompany her to first her family temple, her village temple and her village priest’s home to bring offerings and pray. We are dressed in our finest sarong and kebaya, her driving the motorbike from place to place, me on the back, riding side-saddle with the basket of offerings delicately balanced on my head. Of course I hang on to it with both hands, very afraid that it would fall the ground spoiling all the precious contents. The women of Bali balance their whole lives on their heads, it seems with never a mishap.

The next morning my three friends and I meet Ketut at 4:30 so we can go to the beach for purification, along with hundreds of other Balinese people. Interestingly, this coincides with the Christian Easter Sunday and is a day of new beginnings.

We get to the beach before sunrise and join the many other people there. It feels like a fourth of July celebration. Everyone is happy and cheerful and the mood is light. We decide to do some yogic sun salutations and get many stares of delight. People are curious and happy about what we are doing and it feels very right. The glorious volcano, Mt. Agung is silhouetted against the sky as the sun rises behind it. The ocean waves reach toward us on the beach.

When the sun is up, we go to the car and collect our sarong and our flower offering baskets. We sit on the beach and pray while holding flowers at our forehead as the Balinese do. We pray for peace on the planet and for the continued sources of knowledge to come to us. Afterwards we go into the sacred ocean around the island of Bali and splash ourselves and feel clean and new.

We are back home by 8:30 am, stop for a delicious breakfast then head to Sunday morning dance class. After a shower and a rest, we meet up again and Ketut drives us to see a 25 year old woman priest, Ida Resi Alit. She is the only woman priest in Bali and she has an amazing story of how this journey has unfolded for her.

We sit on the porch of her remote village home and when she appears, it nearly takes my breath away. She is so beautiful. So delicate. Like a china doll. Her English is quite good and we have a wonderful conversation about her life and about her work. I could write a long story just about her, and plan to do so in the future.

There are about 20 people in attendance at her home and after a while she takes her place on a raised alter/platform in her family temple. She begins to pray and chant in the most beautiful voice. The voice she uses to pray is completely different than her speaking voice.

Families come forward to stand in front of her and as she prays and chants over them, she pours holy water on them from many vessels that are handed to her.  The water contains flowers and smells like I imagine heaven would smell.

When it is our turn, we approach the alter; Ketut, Putu, Simone and me. Risi begins to pray and chant as the water is poured. And I begin to cry. Softly at first and then I begin to sob. The more I cry, the more water she pours on me, and she tells me to just let it all go.

By the time she is finished, I am completely soaked and feel intensely clean and sparkly and very emotional. My friend Simone from San Francisco, standing next to me has a rather different experience. As the water was being poured onto her, she begins to laugh. Then the male priest with the big belly begins to laugh. As the water is poured, the laughter gets louder and louder. Like it was coming from way down in their toes. Soon everyone in the small temple is laughing along with us. 

It is a very special, very beautiful day of blessings in Bali.