Ninderry, August 2018
Ceremony. It is the hub that Balinese culture evolves around. My last two weeks in Bali felt like a continual ceremony. Cremations in Bali are a big deal. The set up is a two week preparation of weaving, cooking, creating and coming together to talk. The six day ceremony is an all night vigil. The incense and candles stay alight, the community is a constant state of coming and offering gifts. Day and night. The powerful moments are the high priest (Padanda) ringing the bell and having the other priests (Manku) walk around with the blessing. Hundreds of people sit on the floor, waiting to be showered with holy water and rice as we bow in reverence. Beautiful, not sure what is all about, loving the cohesion it brings in the community, and the hands coming together at the heart.
What is it about this hands coming together in front of the chest? In this moment I don’t need to know all the meanings behind the rituals.
In this moment something stops and allows another sense to step forward.
This precious moment is an acknowledging of togetherness; a recognition of a humility that resides within all humanity. An openness of the heart, where there is no need to know.
I see it happen along the Himalayan paths when two sherpas cross, at the beginning and end of the Zenthai healing session and the honourable ’thankyou‘ at the conclusion of the yoga class.
At times it is married with a tear, a sigh and a bowing of the head. When is offered with full authenticity, it is part of profound letting-go into deeper states of realisation. The realisation we are all doing this together. I didn’t need to know all the rights, wrongs and meanings of all the Balinese cremation. Hands at the heart in an authentic gesture allowed me to sense it all.
With love,
