"may happiness and song return to you..."

"…And may happiness and song return to you." Those were the words that one of my daughters wrote me as I was in transit in singapore, since we didn't have time to say our goodbyes by phone. When I read them I was surprised…what?! Don't I have happiness and song always? Was it only in bali that I felt happiness and song? And has she noticed that it has disappeared? What gave me happiness and song there? It can't really depend on a place?! It is in ones' heart wherever one is….so if I don't have it now, I just don't and it isn't going to suddenly come back just because tomorrow I am in bali…

And this morning I awoke to the singing from the temple just before dawn, and the sound of the crashing of the waves on shore, and realizing that I was surrounded by the queenly mosquito netting around the top of my bed, and I felt like a goddess again. I dozed off, not having had enough sleep yet, after arriving safely and grateful with my driver at 3 a.m. and awoke again just before 8 to the singing of one of my favorite villagers (I have no idea what he/she looks like, but the voice and singing is like Sinead o"connor) and the morning sun was shining through the window opposite my bed from the sea, and I knew happiness and song had returned to my heart.

And I laid in bed and tried to put my finger on what exactly is it? What is "it" that does "it " to me here in bali, in cili emas? And so now instead of eating I will try and put it into words….

the airport felt like an ordinary building, nothing special, went outside to try and find my driver among all the ones standing there with signs with your name on them, and one was smiling and waving at me excitedly and when i thought, "oh, i guess that's him" i started to walk up to him just as the man that was standing behind me called out to him and i realized that he wasn't my driver. hmm....returned into the arrivals circle of drivers and started examining their signs and faces trying to recognize my familiar driver and my name, and at last, his big kind quiet smile met mine and we walked to the car. thus began the 3 hours winding ride home through the balinese mountains arriving to the north eastern shore where i had stayed last time.

it was great coming in at midnight since the roads would be empty, i asked him if he thought so too? "we will be like the king on the road " and i thought that he would go zooming through the empty narrow road disregarding the dividing line that appears every now and then,desregarding the speed limit since we were nearly the only car on the road, but no...we really were like the king, on a procession in all his royalty: slow, respectful, careful, safe, no ego....just service...he was bringing me to my resort with all of the care and respect that one would for his highness. honking at sharp curves or intersections just in case there was a motorcyclist or another car approaching, slowly driving around potholes in the road, and gently taking the hours and hours of curves on the road so that i was not car sick. and it also allowed me to just watch my surroundings and try to understand what is so magical about this place for me?

as we drove through the major city at the beginning i realized it could be any city in asia, no big deal. but as the road became narrow, and was lined on the sides barely leaving a shoulder and the old trees lined it along with small simple old houses lit by a bare light bulb here and there, and we passed through the areas where many of the sacred statues are carved, i felt a presence....that everyone was asleep, but something else was alive here....a few dogs roaming the streets now and then careful to move to the sides when a car approached, and together with that an unexplainable feeling that something was "guarding" over everything...i must be imagining this...silly me...go to sleep,,,stop making up magical stories about bali just to justify your going there again...

and i realized the contrast between singapore, and bali...there was something very ancient and real and unique and natural about these little villages that just grew out of peoples needs as farmers and artisans. no cars lining the roads in front of houses, and the narrow road almost up to the doorsteps of the house or compound, and temples dotted among them, and even new ones being built, but aha....the telling sign...that before it was even finished, the little altar was put in place first and offerings given several times a day...it may seem it is done out of caution or habit, but for me it feels like a constant reminder of something greater than ourselves and what we are doing and that has top priority in every walk of life here. the altar, the calendar date when something is auspicious, the chanting of the priests and temple singers...it is in the air and feels like the seed that is the inside of all of the outer physical world we see and live in.

i awoke in the cab just as he turned into the little street of tejakula, the village that i had lived near and fallen in love with a few months ago. hmmm...is there really anything special about this place or was it just some romantic notion i had then that is now gone....but as we drove the 5 minute drive down the narrow pot holed road to the seafront, all the memories of the smiling faces and experiences i had had returned in the dark underneath the tall powerful trees that lined the road. we entered the resort just as jochan intuitively came to meet us at the little gate, welcoming me and showing me to my new room. grateful and happy to see him again, and happy to lay down on a bed after sleeping on planes and floors for 2 days, i fell asleep in my lovely bedroom immediately to the sound of the crashing of the waves at sea.

i awoke at 5:30, before dawn, to the singing of the temple singer, and smiled....loving it and dozing off again shortly after. again awakening to my favorite temple singer that sings Capella like sinead o'connor such beautiful melodies and now with the morning sun shining through the curtains and lighting up the lovely mosquito netting that was draping my bed from above like a canopy.

when i finished photographing everything that touched me ( the small block of natural mango soap wrapped in the banana leaf and tied with a thin leaf, the aesthetic bathroom and shower that is open to the sky and trees with no need for screens and roofs, the beautiful minimalistic ethnic artwork against the bare grey cement backdrop, the cement floor that softly receives my heels as i walk or exercise on it, the flowers everywhere; on my bed, sink, shelf, desk, the basket full of home grown baby bananas, and the pitcher of healthy tasty water) and last but not least my bamboo gamelon instrument that i left here 2 months ago, after having taught myself how to play on it the ethnic music of the villagers.... i knew that all of these things, make me feel the way i feel here. the fresh air, the smiling faces, the aesthetic food, the life outdoors, the big tall trees, the sounds of people using natural tools in nature; pounding, sweeping, and the sea....with a life of its own, changing every moment.

jochan took me around the garden to point out all of the new things he has been doing, nicole was busy teaching a course in liver cleansing and healthy life style, and i felt that god had given me the greatest gift...to be able to return here again, and feel that same song and happiness that i discovered here 4 months ago, but had totally forgotten. it reminded me of the old kabbalistic tale of the kings son who was banished from the kingdom so that he could learn about the world, but also forgot from where he had come, and only later returned to the kingdom again rediscovering all the riches and heritage that had been his all along, but that he had forgotten about once he left them.