Volcanoes and Snakes and Bears, Oh My!

30 Mar 2012 3 Comments

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

As a girl I loved to listen to Johnny Cash sing Ring of Fire in his scratchy voice. The lyrics produced Faustian images in my adolescent imagination. Here in the South Pacific I am becoming acquainted with another Ring of Fire. Indonesia is uncomfortably cradled between the Alpide Belt and the Pacific Ring of Fire. The two together account for about 96% of the world’s earthquakes. The Pacific Ring of Fire is also home to 75% of the world’s active and dormant volcanoes. Bali boasts four of her own, Batur, Agung, Bratan, and Merbuk. Of the four, Batur is the most active erupting every few years. And that is the one that has all the hiking/trekking packages! Even if I had the proper gear, shoes, and stamina I don’t think I would even be tempted. The words from that Johnny Cash song, “I fell into a burning ring of fire, I went down, down down and the flames went higher.” kind of spoil it for me.

Photo of Mt. Batur copied from Bing Search Engine

Then there is Mt. Agung. This volcano is a little more stable. Only a few eruptions dating back to the early 19th century have been recorded from Agung. However the eruptions in 1963 were among the world’s largest and killed 2000 people. In spite of the ominous history there are daily tours to both of these sites and villages dot the mountainsides.

Photo of Mt. Agung copied from Bing Search Engine

Why do people want to do dangerous things and live in dangerous places? Two of my daughters (and millions of others) have chosen to reside in San Francisco at times in their lives. Those people experience regular earth tremors and yet they remain. And my other daughter lives in the jungle called New York City. Why?  The levels of adrenaline needed just to navigate the subway from point A to point B are probably off the charts.

Then there are the folks in rural Texas who encounter poisonous snakes coiled in unexpected places. Yet they walk through tall grasses and don’t bat an eyelash. A Texan friend and I were conversing one day in the 80’s. I was living in Texas then, and my friend had invited me to walk with her to see something at the other side of the meadow. “But, Karen,” my voice quivered. I  think I was trembling. “What about the snakes?”  She looked at me in disbelief. “But you’re from Minnesota,” she exclaimed and in her mind that seemed to settle the issue. I was confused, “And what’s your point?” I asked indignantly. She gave me the “Well Duh” look and putting her hands on her hips said, “The BEARS!” I guess its a matter of perspective. In spite of my superb resilience at being able to survive Minnesota bears, I did not join her on the hike across the meadow!

Photo copied from Bing Search Engine

Directionally Challenged Meets Cuke as Fruit

29 Mar 2012 1 Comment

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

To suggest that I am directionally challenged is a kindness. In truth, if there is a wrong way to go, I will find it. Its a gift. Today was no exception so its good that I had no particular place to be and no particular time to be there. My goal was to try a different restaurant, one that I had never visited before, in a different part of Ubud. After wandering for about 3/4 of a mile I saw Gayatri Cafe with a broad doorway and a little bridge over a coi pond. That’s my kind of aesthetic.

The menu was displayed on a stand at the entrance and there were plenty of Indonesian dishes to choose from. I’ve found its best to stick with the local fare. Why would I order Italian food or a Mexican burrito in Bali? I’ve seen the looks on the faces of tourists who make that mistake.

It was as pleasing inside as it was from the street. I took this shot just before the whole place filled up with hungry diners. The sweet servers in their Balinese sarongs and long shirts were delightful and this one graciously allowed her photo to be taken holding my banana/papaya smoothie.


As I sipped the delicious drink and waited for the main course, Kare Sayur (Curried Vegetables) the sun slipped behind clouds and a torrential downpour lasting all of four and a half minutes watered the already lush landscape. Most of the restaurants in Ubud are open to nature. Very few choose to shut it out and refrigerate it.

My dish arrived with a towering cone of rice! “Mt. Agung.” my server explained, then laughed. Mt. Agung is one of four volcanoes on Bali and is home to the mother temple, Besakih. My taste buds were poised and ready for the rich curry sauce and I was not disappointed. Polishing off the last flavorful carrot, I remembered seeing a page of desserts in that menu. This really has to stop…tomorrow!

I selected Rujak Manis, a fruit bowl with a chili tamarind sauce. Now last time I read my fruit chart I did not notice cucumber included in the list. This fruit salad definitely contained cucumber…papaya, pineapple, melon, and cucumber. I’m not sold on the cuke as a fruit. I am much more comfortable with it in the vegetable family. So, I’m sad to say, this dessert failed the taste test.

Stuffed to the gills, I paid the cashier and exited the Cafe. Why did I not pay attention and make a mental note to self like “Go Right When You Leave” before I went in? I went left. Of course I did. And it was the wrong way. Of course it was. But you know what? This is just another one of those little glitches that make me who I am, and my new mantra is:  I’m okay with that!

An Empowered Sisterhood

28 Mar 2012 1 Comment

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The internet has been down at my residence since last night. I feel terribly handicapped by this inconvenience! Ubud is flooded with people who have come for the Bali Spirit Festival and they’re all here with their internet accessible phones, computers, etc.  The additional activity has evidently put a strain on the system. But here at the Atman Kafe the internet is alive and well, another reason I love this place! I came here first thing this morning to plug in and immediately ordered coffee. It came with this surprise:

How sweet is that! I am delighted and my server is so pleased to have surprised me. Have I mentioned that I love this place!

After a short time of sipping coffee and answering e-mails I am joined by a nineteen-year-old girl from Berlin. Amalia. She has been traveling for seven months.  She spent time working in Australia then went to New Zealand to mountain climb on the glaciers, sky-dive, and do some hang-gliding off cliffs. Timid soul! She leaves to return to her family in Germany in six days and she admits she is lonesome. She reminds me of a 19 year-old in the 60’s who left her Minnesota home to live in Hawaii. But I somehow talked my best friend, Diana, into going with me!

I am amazed at the number of women I meet who have opted for traveling alone. We are here in droves, all ages, not running from…not looking for…just being who we are without constraint or compromise. It is an empowered sisterhood of kindred souls. From this perspective, half a world away from home, the globe shrinks to a companionable size. Imagining possibilities comes naturally. Dreams are allowed, encouraged, nurtured. We share them with one another, almost apologetically at first, shocking ourselves with the boldness of them. But in the sharing they become more real. And somehow, we too become more real.

 

Mosquitoes, Music, and the Siren’s Call

27 Mar 2012 Leave a comment

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It sounds suspiciously like a buzzing mosquito. The sound filters through the thick Balinese air from a temple some distance from here. The holy man is chanting. At first I am convinced there is a bothersome bug circling my head. Then I realize, no, someone is singing! Today in the main temple of Ubud there is a major celebration. Dewa explained it to me this morning. In a few minutes the women will begin parading down the main street with tiered offerings towering on their heads. I set out to observe from a distance. If I wear a sarong I can approach the celebration but cannot enter the temple. I would need a spotless white covering like this woman is wearing before that would be allowed.

This photo was taken by Damian White and I have borrowed it for reasons that will soon become obvious.

I exit my room heading south on Hanoman Street. It is hot. I am on the sunny side of the street. After going a few blocks sweat is literally creating little rivulets down my back. I cross to the shady side of the street and keep going. Passing a beautiful restaurant I feel the pull of refrigerated air. But I am determined so I keep going. I finally reach the intersection where Hanoman joins the main east/west artery in Ubud. I halt on the corner taking stock of the surroundings. Cars, buses, and motorbikes are whizzing and honking past me. The only sidewalk appears to be on the opposite side of the street. There are no stoplights. Challenge number one: get to the other side. I stand on the corner awhile longer, now completely drenched, licking my own salty sweat as it drips off my upper lip.

Suddenly a menu item from the Atman Kafe that I haven’t yet tried appears like a mirage before me! Watermelon Salad! In my fried brain delirium I do an about face and hoof it back to the Atman in record time. Diving into its shady, welcoming embrace I place my order and it comes quickly, unusual for this endearing establishment!

Ah! Bliss! The cool chunks of watermelon with julienne strips of apple, a hint of red pepper, walnuts, and mint leaves, topped with feta and a faintly sweet dressing revive me. My view as I feast is of a basket of coconuts and the neat line-up of sandals that guests leave at the door upon entering. The staff regularly retrieves any footwear that doesn’t make it properly into alignment and remedy the situation.

I am so happy to be here! After finishing my salad I smell coffee. The Atman advertises the best coffee in Bali. I haven’t tried it yet, but an iced coffee latte sounds like a divine way to finish this meal. It comes with a sprinkling of cinnamon on the frothy cap of sweet Australian milk. I don’t really care if I’m up until the wee hours because of this indulgence. It is worth every sleepless moment!

I finally tear myself away from Atman, my personal slice of heaven, and return to my room. There is no one to offend now if I get a quick shot of the burned roof. I am literally standing in my doorway to take this photo. It was that close!

Home at last, I settle into my comfy chair and open the laptop. Then the mosquito begins its buzzing. When the reality of that sound registers I know that I am missing the ceremony. But I am in Bali. There will be hundreds of ceremonies, festivals and rituals before I leave. I can attend or not as I desire. Today I succumbed to the heat and the Siren’s call of Watermelon Salad. It was the right choice.

Fire!

27 Mar 2012 3 Comments

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It’s noon. Writing is going well. Suddenly there is noise and commotion outside my room and I hear the sound of splashing water and an American male voice hollering, “Are there any more buckets!?!” I open my door and sure enough! The roof not 10 yards away from me is smoking and I see glowing embers in the exposed beams. Every man, woman, and child in the immediate area is here, shouting excitedly, and a few actually have buckets and are accessing the little canal outside my room for water. They fling the water upward toward the embers and some of it lands on the fire. They are doing a good job of dousing the roof so the blaze won’t likely spread. Even if there was a fire engine in Ubud, (and there may be, I don’t know) getting it in here would be impossible. The house sits back off the street at least a block and the walled pathway is just wide enough for a motorbike. Transfixed, I watch, listen, and feel totally helpless to do anything else. After about 30 minutes everything seems to be under control. But the whole episode gives me pause. After briefly considering what I would do in case of fire, I realize it’s a lot like my brief quandary the other night.

I had been sitting for awhile focused on writing my nicely evolving chapter. Then I felt a little tingle on my behind. I scratched. Suddenly my left cheek was on fire, itching relentlessly! I remembered throwing a tube of Benedryl into my toiletries as I packed and I scrambled to locate it. Ah! There! Sweet relief! Checking the time I saw that it was late. I put away the computer and as I crawled under the lightweight duvet of my very comfortable bed I had a one of those “ah ha” moments. I had just been bitten by a bug of unknown origin. In Minnesota that would be an annoyance and nothing else. Here it could be a highly poisonous insect and I might be dead by morning. Considering my options I decided I was okay with that and fell immediately to sleep.

Fast forward to the fire. If I had time I would grab my bag containing money and passport. If I didn’t have time…I’m okay with that, too. Acceptance. What a powerful tool for inner peace.

Nazi Yogini

26 Mar 2012 1 Comment

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali Tags: , , , , ,

I’m usually pretty mellow. Take things in stride. Make it work. Last night’s Restorative Yoga Class tested my limits. Some people just shouldn’t teach. From the get-go there was a weird vibe in the room. I can only describe it as tension. Nobody seemed at ease. About 20 people turned out for the class and we were seated expectantly on our mats. The instructor began by saying that she had nothing really planned, we would just “let it go where it will.” Well, that’s fine, I do that all the time. Nothing alarming yet. But soon it was clear there were issues. Her manner was condescending. Her suggestions came across like commands. There was no easy flow. It was a painful.

Then, in the middle of who-knows-what, she wanted us to do some partner yoga. Nobody was even remotely interested. She lost a couple of people on that one. They exited without even putting away their mats. My flesh was crawling and I seriously wanted to bolt! But my eyes connected with the young woman next to me and we managed to do the partner thing that was being required. Somewhere in the midst of it all I had the blinding flash of insight that it probably wasn’t all about the teacher. Some of this discomfort was about me. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay. That’s what it’s all about, right? Self-discovery. I’ll work on the ‘me’ part later. Right now I just want to go on record saying that she was one really terrible yoga teacher!

It was finally over and I ran.

This morning dawned bright and clear and I headed out to Early Bird Yoga. There was a fabulous instructor! Lovely class! My faith is renewed.

Tonight I by-passed Nazi yogini’s class and opted for a luxurious massage at lovely Pertenin Spa instead. Smart move! Then stopped at Atman Kafe for a Vietnamese Chicken Salad and some great people watching.


After two, blissfully pleasant hours in the Cafe, listening to conversations in five different languages, I left for home. It is a spectacular night and my pathway is well lit. I can hear music playing, children laughing,and some confused nocturnal rooster crowing.

The moon, flanked on either side by stars, illuminates the night sky.

I know, no one in paradise should be allowed to complain. Sorry. I just needed to vent. Thanks for listening!

Monkey Business in Monkey Forest

25 Mar 2012 2 Comments

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali Tags: , , , , , , ,

Monkey Forest Sanctuary is home to around 200 macaque monkeys and three Hindu temples that were built in the middle of the 14th Century. The monkeys roam freely which can be both fascinating and frightening. I am generally fascinated and have stood, mesmerized at the zoo, watching these distant relatives do things people do. But today a precocious teenage monkey decided I probably had something he wanted in my purse. I know better than to carry food into Monkey Forest so I had nothing. But he jumped on to my shoulder and in a split second, he had himself draped around me, grappling with the zipper on my bag and then my camera case. I had just witnessed two monkeys fighting and I saw the vicious teeth those little creatures have so I didn’t want to upset him in any way. As he readjusted his grip around my neck I slowly lowered myself as close to the ground as I could get hoping he’d hop off. No such luck. The next thing I knew he swung around my arm, a Tarzan-like move, and was on my head. I know their penchant for grooming and I didn’t want to go there! I saw a cement pillar near by with a flat top. I moved close and tilted my head. Junior finally got the message and left in a bit of a huff. I gave the monkeys a wide berth for the remainder of my visit today, and I wasn’t approached again.

They’re just so cute when they’re little!

Then they become teenagers…

And then, ah well, it happens to all of us.

The lush green jungle is a feast for the eyes. If you notice about half way down on the right side of this photo, two mossy green alligators perch on the edge of a cliff.

The sidewalks are spotlessly clean and are kept that way by women with pink dustbins and bamboo brooms. I watched a tourist intentionally drop a plastic bag on the ground. Another person in the group said, “There are recycle containers for that.” His reply, “Oh, the monkeys will take care of it.” Within moments a green uniformed Forest Attendant picked up the bag and took it to the recycle bin.

Monkey Forest Sanctuary is also a cemetery used by the village of Padangtegal for their cremations and burial grounds.

Directly across from the headstones is the cremation area. There had recently been a cremation and smoke was still rising.

The temples are awe-inspiring with their statuary and intricately carved edifices.

I wonder what the ceremonies looked like that were held here in the 14th Century. Probably not much different from what they are today.

No trip into Monkey Forest would be complete for me without seeing the incredible dragon bridge. Shrouded in the dripping tendrils of the banyan trees that surround it, the bridge spans the rushing creek in the chasm below.

Magnificent! And so was the day. My trail home took me past Atman and I had to stop. Just look at these bananas, fried in butter with two sauces on the side, one is coconut cream and the other is carmelized raw cane sugar. Go ahead and drool. It was beyond delicious!

What a day!

24 Mar 2012 3 Comments

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It’s 6:30 a.m. Light rain is falling as I head down a deserted Hanoman Street. For days now I have allowed the morning rain to deter me from walking to the Yoga Barn for the 7 a.m. Early Bird Yoga class. It is one of the few Level 1 classes offered and my body is happiest at Level 1. I am the third to arrive. I take a mat, blocks, and a blanket and make my way to the far side of the room settling into a seated, meditative state. When I again open my eyes, the room is filled. There are, at quick glance, at least 20 people on their mats, waiting. The class is perfect, flowing from one pose to the next, fluidly, slowly, with the breath. I leave, calmed and energized.

Back to my homestay for breakfast and a quick change of clothes, then I’m off to the market. The sky is now a brilliant blue with bright sunshine. I gaze upward and can’t resist this shot. Who says you can’t take a picture directly into the sun?!

One must be mentally and physically prepared for a visit to the market. As with markets everywhere (with the possible exception of stoic Budapest) I am accosted every step of the way with, “Miss, a sarong today? A beautiful sarong?” “Miss, silver bracelet for you? Silver jewelry?” “Miss, Miss, good price for you today!” I find that the best answer is to respond in a sing-song voice, “Not today…thank you.” Most often I get a sing-song “Thank you…” in return. Sometimes I hear, “Miss, tomorrow?” I smile and move on.

The air here doesn’t move. There are offerings and incense at every vendor’s stall. I’ve wormed my way deep into the bowels of the marketplace. In the mid-day Bali heat I start feeling slightly woozy. I find my way to a balcony and inhale a deep breath of fresh air.

Yes. All those rooftops house more of the market. I wonder how many of the thousands of sarongs available here are sold on a given day, or how many of the I “heart” Bali T-shirts?

Finally, 200% over-stimulated, I look for an exit and escape. Uh oh! This street isn’t familiar. I go back inside, wend my way in the opposite direction, or as close to that as possible, and emerge somewhere else. Once again outside I recognize a landmark. The Oops Bar. I strike out confidently in the wrong direction. After a short distance I realize my mistake and make the necessary correction. I am heading for the Wayan Cafe, sweet oasis in the midst of sensory overload. It is a fair distance from the market but, dripping with sweat, I am bound and determined that a long, leisurely lunch there is just reward for the trials I have endured.

My persistence pays off. I ask the blue turbaned attendant if there is an available table in the garden. He invites me to go in and choose for myself. As I follow the winding path through rich foliage bursting with blossoms, I hope that I will find the perfect spot, secluded and tranquil. I pass many opportunities for seating but they aren’t quite what I’m hoping for. Then, on my right, is a high platform with a thatched roof overlooking a lovely lotus pond. It sits all by itself as if just waiting for me to find it. I remove my sandals and ascend the platform, sinking gratefully into the cushions.

And now the part my “foodie” friends have been waiting for. You know who you are! The menu is extensive and every dish delectable. I decide on an iced latte to start. The smiling blue turban appears and wallah! Iced coffee.

I’ve decided on an Indonesian dish called Cap Cay (pronounced Chop Chay) for my main course. It is described as “cabbages, carrot, cauliflower, onion, and green vegetables in  a red sweet chili garlic sauce served with plain rice.”
My mouth waters and my stomach rumbles anticipating the flavors.

Oh delight! I am not disappointed. I savor every mouthful and wonder how I will summon the capacity for dessert. Exercising tremendous restraint, I do not lick the bowl. My happy attendant returns to remove the empty dishes and I tell him I must have dessert but I will have to wait a bit. “Take your time,” he says. I’m grateful for that. It is the perfect opportunity to take a few more photos of my idyllic surroundings.

The view to my right…

The view to my left…

And the view straight ahead. I’ve studied the dessert menu and, much against my better judgement, I order two: coconut meringue pie and green tea ice cream. The ice cream comes first. It is every bit as refreshing as it looks.

Yes, I should have stopped there. But Wayan Cafe is also a bakery. One should never leave without tasting at least one of their specialty desserts. Their coconut meringue pie is a pastry lovers dream.

The pie arrives. Gorgeous! I manage to polish off the whole thing. Did you have any doubt?

Reluctantly I know the time has come to leave my little island of calm and head home.

I thank my server again and slowly take myself and my very full belly, down off the platform and back through the serene gardens and home. It has been quite a day and it’s only 3 p.m. I make myself comfortable on the balcony with my laptop and find the place in the Word document where I left my protagonist hanging yesterday. The story starts to unfold in my mind and my fingers follow it, clicking over the keys.

Nyepi and 9/11

23 Mar 2012 3 Comments

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It is fitting that my soul-journey would encounter Nyepi. There are only a few other places in the world that observe a day of complete silence. But I assure you, the island of Bali has shut down. If they could have muted the roosters, I’m certain they would have! The closest thing to it that I can remember in the U.S. is when the airports were closed after 9/11. The skies were empty and an eerie silence hung over the land. Imagine if, along with no airplanes, all traffic had stopped, all electricity had been turned off, all stores and industries of every kind were closed, and people were required to remain in their houses.  That is Nyepi. The Balinese celebrate the first day of every new year in quiet meditation, introspection, and prayer.

I decide that today, for me, will be a day of appreciating my immediate surroundings (I can’t go anywhere else!) I will devote it to noticing the details that I have been enjoying but not really ‘seeing’ because of the cumulative beauty of this place. Like, for instance, this intensely green plant with shocking pink striped leaves has been here all the time but I just found it.

Look at this orchid inside a half coconut shell. It has been secured to a palm tree and will eventually grow right into the tree. Then the shell will be removed and they will have become one. It will look like the palm tree is sprouting orchids.

Just out of reach as I sit on my balcony is this breath-taking cluster of frangipani, or plumeria as it is known in Hawaii. Butter-yellow with star-shaped orange centers, the flowers are individually delicate but in clusters they seem to shout their presence! You have my attention…I’m listening now…

I am embarrassed at how quickly I become comfortable in a place and forget to fully appreciate the visual bounty. It is like anything, when we have so much we become numb to it. We begin to feel that we are entitled and instead of being humbly grateful for our abundance, we reach for more, and more, and more. It reminds me of the story that Yvonne (my Dutch friend) shared with me last night.

A fisherman lived in a cozy cottage in a picturesque village. Every day he went out in his little boat and easily caught enough fish from the abundance of the sea to feed his family. One day some visitors noticed the great number of fish available in that area. They approached the fisherman and said, “Why don’t you make nets so you can catch more fish?” The fisherman looked at them and said, “And why would I do that?” The people answered, “So you can make lots of money and hire people to fish for you.” Again the fisherman just looked at them and said, “And why would I do that?” The people said, “So you could make even more money and form a company and export fish all over the world.”  In his quiet way the fisherman said again, “And why would I do that?” By this time the people were getting impatient, “So you could take a lovely vacation in a peaceful little village like this one, and relax and fish all day.” The fisherman smiled. “Ah,” he said. “I see.”

So I end this auspicious day of Nyepi with my meditation for you:

May you be filled with lovingkindness,

May you be well in body and mind,

May you be safe from inner and outer dangers,

And may you be happy, truly happy, and free.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo of Namaste hands from Bing search engine.

Nyepi and the Ogoh Ogoh’s

22 Mar 2012 4 Comments

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali

It is a perfect day for disposing of evil spirits. The sky is clear and the air is clean and fresh. I have decided to stop for a bite to eat at the Atman, what I have come to think of as my own personal cafe, and then make my way to the soccer field to watch the ogoh ogoh’s gather. I am delighted to find that Yvonne, my friend from Holland, is here. I join her and soon discover that the parade is to pass directly in front of this restaurant. We have ring-side seats. It isn’t scheduled to start for several hours but we don’t care. The food and beverages here are to-die-for and there are always interesting people to meet. Soon we’re joined by Jen, a writer from New York, and the three of us delve into deep philosophical conversation. I’m quite serious! It was wonderful.

But back to the evil spirits. The activity in the street in front of the cafe suddenly takes on a different energy. We can hear the sounds of shouting and banging coming toward us. Our diligent waiting is rewarded. One by one the vile monsters pass by.

 

 

The pole the man is carrying is to lift the electrical wires that cross the streets over the head of this very tall ogoh ogoh!

The streets are teeming with people and ogoh ogoh’s. The parade is headed toward the cemetery where a wild ceremony of singing and drumming and shouting will commence while the handlers of the monsters will make them dip and sway and appear to be on the attack. This is all for the benefit of the evil spirits who are attracted to the noise and commotion. After dark, when the evil has entered these monsters and the island has been cleansed, the ogoh ogoh’s are burned.

The parade has come to a halt and these musicians are resting their drums and their legs in preparation for the long night ahead.

Following this night of revelry is Nyepi, the Balinese New Year. Everything shuts down, including electricity. It is a day for meditation and self-reflection. People are not allowed in the streets. The shops are closed. There is no cooking, no television, and no work. The staff here at my Homestay were busy preparing food today for tomorrow since we still need to eat but no cooking can be done. The belief is that if any of the spirits survived and they come looking for mischief, there will be nothing to find. All will be silent and still. Evil spirits are attracted to noise so if there is no noise the spirits think there is no one here and they leave. It’s a great plan, don’t you think?

Here are my Nyepi buddies. Author and writing coach, Jen Sincero, is the lady in red. Yvonne Hart, a soon-to-be-author and Organizational Psychologist in the center, and yours, most truly and sincerely, me. We bid farewell and I head home to gear up for a night of ogoh ogoh dreams and day of silence, soul-searching, and meditation.

 

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