Friday afternoon …
Friday afternoon ..we head to the nearby temple …Monkey temple ..for a Bi annual ceremony. I am behind Mr. Komang, Mrs Komang sidesaddle behing Nilou. We arrive at a sea of motor bikes and literally a mountain full of people. Never before have i witnessed so many in one place/ one time. We begin the trek to the top ..a mixture of steps, rocky paths…people chattering and walking up together. Ages from 6 month to 80 years …every thing in a dance of the present. A challenging climb for some but difficult for no one ..as a ‘stop and rest’ ..no hastiness or hurriedness. We all share the wonderful view of mountain and sea, the sacredness of trees inhabited by inquisitive monkeys. As we climb together in white shirts , sarongs and head dress iam surronded by hordes of ‘baba guling’ (cooked pig) carried by bamboo rods to the temple on the top ready for the big feast tonight.
I occasionally sit and watch …this amazing myriad of humans..so dedicated in ceremony. The trilogy of Balinese Spirituality alive and well. 1. The deep connectedness to earth’s gifts is seen in their barefeet or sandals massaging the rocks as they climb. 2. The communities and connection to each other ..so apparent….a mass of people…not one complaint as people bump and jostle into each other…only smiles and holding of hands. 3. The simple YES to the Divine…. IN the Ceremony ….not showing up is not an option.The soft chubby hands gathering the water from priest as he splashes before bringing it to their mouth 3 times…the flowers they place on their crown …signifying this DIVINE spirit is beyond life and death…it is Always. It is Everything.
Mrs Komang who has been ill for days is relentless in her climbing to the top with BASKET OF Offerings on her head. At the top the sea of people gather in a soup of sitting and offering, dancing and laughing, others deranged in trancelike euphoria…it is simply a honouring of a special time. I sit with Mrs Komang and Nilou..in prayers and offerings moving from temple to temple at the top. A deranged 20 yr male runs in front yelling aloud, dagger in hand , his friend attempting to restrain. The priest splashes him 3 times with the holy water, he releases the dagger and drops to his knees in a simple state of reborn..he walks away gently ..smiling ..New skin. I reflect the depth yet simplicity of ceremony. Imbalances within are rewired in minutes..The clouds burst as the rain comes down, drenching the entire mountain. No one is fazed. Soaking wet…the prayers and devotional processions continue..as purity is far beyond phenomena.
I head back early …descending down..as masses still moving up in a festive fever. The walk back to Jasri…on sunset.. a 7km walk back home as the roads all blocked. A freshness is felt through me …wet from the rain, blessed from the ceremony …awakened from the richness of experience. A slow Bemo approaches heading to Jasri…ahh a lift!!…i run to keep up then jump into the back tray to find myself amongst 10 buckets of fresh fish…this is not a bemo. This is the local fisherman. We all laugh together. I reflect upon what is available when we simply allow each day to be a chance to practice an internal shift… a shift to a constant state of awareness and renewal.Right now.
“ The past has already disappeared, the future only imagined, the present as fluid water. To awaken is not to fix or hold but to love whatever is here. Knowing this truth is to release our hearts from grasping. The mystery that gave us life becomes a dance”