purifying

The trip to the water temple was nice. It was a chance to have some empty time in the car to be in close contact with random people from the group that happen to be sitting next to you during the half hour ride. Everyone has such interesting stories to share. One of which was on the way back to the parking lot from the temple there were some 50 souvenir shops where they try and catch you by saying “only $1, only $1”. One of the women decided to buy something and came back to the car with her white and purple striped plastic bag with a blouse inside. She said that someone told her last year that they have three colors of bags; white, black and striped which your merchandise is packed in according to: If you are loaded and an easy target for money then you get one color, (lets say white) if you know how to bargain but are interested in buying more stuff you get the other color, and if you are a toughie and no point in even starting up with you then you get the black. I marvel at this…that first of all someone thought it up! And second of all, that camaraderie…that they want to not only make some money for their own pocket but want to help the other 49 vendors who will see you walking with your bag and already know how to approach you psychologically...all because of its color, that you are not even paying attention to!…maybe it is even a cooperative!? This is typical Balinese ingenuity and unity.

When we arrived, dressed in our temple clothes, we passed a huge sacred tree, which stood in the outer courtyard. It looked like about 10 trees huddled together. An altar was set up in front of it for the visitors to pray to before entering the water temple grounds. On one hand it may look like a religion that prays to nature and animals and things, but in fact, they just feel the life force that is expressed so strongly in such a huge tree and recognize its creator and want to acknowledge that one GOD that exists in all, and thus have made a small cement platform where people can come to give recognition to that force of nature.

Then we entered the inner court where there was another inner courtyard where a spring of water had been designated in the year 960 by some Buddhists from Java, as a holy site, and named Ubud. And from that came the name of the city that is known as balis' artist village, and where people come to purify themselves in the “holy” spring waters, (again just a recognition of the life force that exists in nature and giving it a place of honor and respect and acknowledging that here is a place that one can connect to God where it is also physically a powerful reminder of his/her presence. The water came shooting out of twelve old stone spouts along a wall in the first open area. You stand in a pool waist high in cold water that you have jumped into and proceed to stand one behind the other at the first spout awaiting your turn. Each person chooses his own ritual of purification as he approaches the spout. Since tomorrow is the full moon, the place had even more visitors than during the rest of the month.

I actually enjoy the freedom of not knowing anything about Hinduism and not understanding the language, and can then just invent my own prayer from my heart. Often I take a cue from the actions of other devotees around me. So as I stood there I watched a few of them; one was hitting the back of his neck with his hand as the water poured out onto his head. Aha, I will call that the “witness” and use that too. Another one was putting his head under the pouring water and going over his head from forehead to neck with both hands in three long movements. That I will call “pure thought”. Next he drank the water and spit it out of his mouth three times, and then again drinking three mouthfuls and swallowing it. That I will call “pure speech” and “healthy food”. Another looked as if she was cleaning out her ear. That I will call recognizing all sounds as the sound of God. Another was hitting their shoulders and another their upper arms, which I interpreted as “not to carry any burdens on my shoulders” and that all actions that I do (my hands symbolizing the part of my body that does many actions) will be for the sake of bringing me closer to doing Gods’ will. And after that I myself added “seeing all as things as God” thus wiping my eyes three times, and also rubbing my “third eye” to encourage intuitive messages from God. And also rubbing my heart in hopes of purifying my heart to be loving. I went through all of these motions while standing, after I first took a few moments to say my intention in my heart before actually standing under the powerful flow of water, I had also seen someone dunk themselves completely under the water three times. So, since it reminded me of what one does in the mikve, I thought that it too could be symbolic of the ongoing process of left,right, middle; that first I get thrown to the “left” and think something has gone wrong and oh no! then I pray and get thrown to the “right” and see the light and realize that God has actually planned this all and has my best intentions in mind, and then I create the middle path, which is my individual path of returning to my Source, and which only I can walk one step at a time.

So it was interesting for me to slowly build up this ritual as we would finish the first spout and then go to our right to the next one and the next one, and by the twelfth one I had discovered all areas that I wanted to purify and had quite a long little ceremony before each spout. Then I saw that there was another pool if you go through a small entrance, and there I continued it all another 10 times I think, and by the end, felt quite loving and grateful inside and out. There were streams of people, men women and children, of many nationalities all waiting in the line to be purified by these holy waters. Those that did not or could not enter the pool ( a great sign that said “those menstruating are not allowed in” and then in parentheses “(applies for women only)”…which means that if you are a man and menstruating you ARE allowed to enter?!)…had brought containers to take the holy water home and do it another time. so they were filling up huge bottled water bottles of 50 liters with this water.

Once I had finished I was waiting on the side and there were some tour guides telling the tourists some stories. I decided to eavesdrop and heard him point out to her that you are not supposed to go in the last spout because it is only if you have nightmares….uh oh,,,,I went there too! Didn’t know what the little Indonesian words on the small signs meant next to certain spouts, and everyone ahead of me was going there so I thought….but after my first regret I realized that sometimes I do have nightmares, so I’m covered there, and secondly, someone, at some time decided which spout represented what, and before that it was just the same spring water pouring out of the ground, so I can make up my own interpretations too. What was important for me was the intention. And it felt nice having these intentions.

While waiting for everyone in my group to finish, there was a 4 year old girl holding her baby one year old brother in her arms as he cried for his mother who was going through this whole series of purifying pools, and I thought, why not help? So I tapped the little girl on the shoulder, motioned to her brother and put my arms out. She readily handed him over to me and I heard myself suddenly singing to him the stupidest song I had ever heard from summer camp when I was 12 years old:

“Oh, I was born one night one morn when the whistles went boom boom,

I can fry a cake I can bake a snake when the mud pies are in bloom

Does six and six make nine, does ice grow on a vine

Is ol black joe, an Eskimo in the good ol summer time,

Oh hoop de loop in the noodle soup just to give myself a shine

I’m a dirty shmoe I stole the dough

Three cheers for ol lang sine

Way done in barcelonia they speak in to the phonia

And this is all balonia

Peterusky blow your horn toot toot”

As I sang he stopped crying, and I was laughing so hard inside that of all the songs “I” could have possibly chosen, out came this ridiculous song that I haven’t heard in some 45 years! Ah, what a purifying ritual can do for the soul! I love it.