the inner chamber

Each morning and evening when I place the offerings in the different places I make up a prayer of gratitude and of requests. So the words change each day, depending on what I feel at the moment I am standing there with the offering in my hand, opposite the permanent places I am placing them (the rice cooker, the rice  bin, the gas burner, the water from the faucet, drinking water, kitchen goddess (my nickname) the bedrooms and clinic, the motorbikes, the family altar out in the garden, and one on the ground for the lower spirits, the entranceway to the property, and another two for the lower spirits also at the entranceway,)

The family altar one Is like a little pagoda on a raised platform one of the offerings goes on the highest place; the roof. The other one for the family altar goes in the opening of the little square inner chamber, about 20 x 20 centimeters big. The pagoda is painted black on the outside and made from cement made from dark grey sand from the nearby sea.

Whenever I stand opposite that dark space, I ask myself what it means to me. What does it represent in my life? What does it say to me? What do I have to say to it? What does it awaken in me? Who am I speaking to there?

This morning as I looked inside it the realization came to me that this is that small dark space inside of me that I was always running away from. It was the place of nothingness, of darkness, of fear, of hunger, of the end, death. Whenever I would get near that place inside of me, I reached for a substance to numb the horror of it…anything, just not to have to feel that place. I could eat something, buy something, do something, anything….just not remain there, in the presence of that space, and still stay alive. That would be a living death. Unbearable.

I remember reading a short editorial by a friend who described that place as an opening, not of an ending. Of an entrance to something deeper, and not of a dark hole that would swallow me up alive. I remember being surprised and grateful that there could possibly be another option. Over the years I was curious to actually experience that, but never got to the root of it all.

So when I stood there this morning all of that passed through my mind, together with some experiences I had had the last couple of days. There was the realization that there is a continuous process of creation, preservation and transformation happening all the time, at a different pace in everything and that it is never one or the other, but a gradual passage from one into the other.  And that the creation phase is beginning while the destruction phase is happening. It is never only one or the other. So as my friend was removing the dead skin from my sore that was healing, the new skin was already being formed.

Together with that there is the moment when the destruction phase is in the lead. That is when everything seems like death and the escape by means of a substance is a quick fix for not having to feel that uncomfortable experience. One can never know how long it is going to last, and how dark it is going to get there, but I have begun to agree to witness it instead of running away. I feel how uncomfortable it is, how contracted I feel, how alone it is, how the life force is leaving, that I fear I can't continue on like this for too much longer. It is that same moment just before the baby is born where I knew the contractions were too much and I was just going to die with the next one, but the next one brought the new born baby that had been getting closer and closer to birth while I was getting closer and closer to death, in my gut feeling.

So as I stood there, and saw that dark small chamber I realized that we were slowly becoming friends. I understood that this is my own inner chamber. My own connection to my deepest feelings, my truest self and that it is safe, it is contained, it is in fact the reason for the outer pagaoda! That everything revolves around this inner space. That, yes, god is in every flower and the clouds and sea, and every person, but that my connection to this inner chamber and the presence and trust and listening that is there, is what allows everything outside of it to have meaning, to nourish me, to  bring me peace.

So yes, it is just a small dark chamber, but it can feel infinite and full and filled with light at the same time. That is what I understood this morning as I placed the small banana leaf square with some rice there and spoke with god.

odds and ends...

When children lose their teeth, the tooth is thrown up into the air if it is from the lower jaw, symbolizing strong teeth that will grow upwards. Those from the top row are buried in order to insure strong teeth that will grow strong downwards.

I thought until now that all the dogs here are as peaceful as the Balinese are, since they bark a little but then turn the other way, if you are a stranger passing by someones house. But my friend told me that most of them have been castrated so that they will stay close to home and since they don't have testicles the testosterone that normally makes dogs run after the females, and fight with other dogs and be aggressive (bite strangers) is no longer in their body, and they become quiet and peaceful.

The Balinese accompany people at night to their home so that they will not be on the road alone since the lower spirits are out between midnight and two a.m. My friend who is a doctor, once went to care for a patient in the middle of the night and declined their help to accompany him back home afterwards. But when he went to get on his motorbike he saw a huge angry giant standing in front of him. He saw it, and chose to acknowledge it but to continue to go home. His motorbike did not turn on so he had to push it downhill to start it. When he eventually got home he went to bed but when he awoke in the morning he felt weak. His body continued to get weaker and weaker over the next few days. His sister went to someone that "reads" energy and he told her that her brother had been out at midnight and saw the giant spirit who was angry that he dared to decline accompaniment home, as if he thought he doesn't need it! And that for his pride he was being punished by losing his inner power. He gave the sister some holy water for him to drink that he had brought from different temples that he had prayed at. Once his sister returned and told him the reason for his weakness, even though he had not told her about the giant he had seen, he drank the holy water and by the next day he was feeling healthy again. And now knows that awesome fear is important.

Balinese are not afraid of being murdered or killed or enemies, they are only fearful in regards to the spirits from the other worlds.

There is a teenager who has supernatural powers and people can go to him and he can see what the problem is and tell them what the cure is. My friends mother felt weak and achy last week and no matter what medication she received it didn't help her. After a while she slowly started to get better, but seemed to be without any spirit left in her. Her husband decided to ask the teenager what it was that she has, but they are waiting for an auspicious day to do so. The husband suspects that before she became ill she went alone to her family temple to make an offering for her ancestors, and possibly since she was alone there, some spirits went inside of her and caused the illness. So he awaits the antidote to it.

ways to heal

A few days ago, while doctoring a sore on my foot that started, I suddenly felt very achy and weak. I thought it was part of the surprise infection I had and didn't give it much thought and just went to bed earlier than usual. But during the night I realized that my whole body just ached and by the time morning came, I could barely move. I lay in bed and realized that I had no life force in me. It was a strange feeling. Something I take as a given, was no longer accessible. Also feeling nauseous, I realized that my best option was to just stay put, fast, and wait till it passed.

As I lay there falling in and out of sleep, I realized that even to lift my hand to pick up the glass of water next to me, was beyond me. I would have to concentrate on that intention for quite a while until slowly something inside of me managed to touch the glass and eventually get it to my mouth. It was such a strange feeling. Nothing really hurt anymore, just the disappearance of the ability to do anything. I lay there alone most of the day believing that it was getting better and not worse, and just sleeping.

 Unexpectedly the grandma came to bring me some starfruits. She found me in bed. Since our language of choice is that each of us speaks, knows the other one doesn't understand, but are sure that we are understood, and somehow it works. Silently, she began putting her palms on the exposed parts of my body; arms, legs…just kind of mushing them around a bit, just as natural as if it were her own body. Just the touch of her hands and her presence and casual manner of touching me already made me feel better. Still I lay there, unable to get up. She continued to sit on my bed. Just sitting…looking nowhere in particular. Silent. The next thing I knew she grabbed the hand broom I wisk my bed with each morning and started shooing something away in the space above and in front of her. She placed the broom back next to my bed and as she stood there I watched her "listening". She looked like someone trying to find a fly or mosquito that they hear but haven't found yet. Her eyes darted from right to left as she was motionless  but fully attentive to "something" in the room. After a few minutes she again took the broom and "cleared the air" around my bed, and finished with whoever she had shooed away,she left.

A  few hours later, when it was time to give the evening offerings, she entered my bedroom to place the flowers and incense in the altar over my bed. I watched her. When she finished she motioned me that she wants to bless me too. I managed to sit up, and in typical blessing position placed my palms upwards in front of me so that she could sprinkle the holy water on them for me to drink. When she finished the usual ritual she then continued with a handful of cooked rice which she wiped on my palms. She then repeated the movement collecting any actual pieces of rice that had stayed on my palms. She suggested that I shower.

When she left, I lay down again, and my palms automatically went to my heart chakra and solar plexus and rested there. I was familiar with the healing power of my palms on myself and others, but I had never realized that it is specifically our palms that have this healing power. It struck me as interesting that that would be the same place that the holy cooked white rice would touch in order to bring about a healing. It is also a major opening for receiving energy while practicing qigong to bring to the entire body. After a while I was able to get up and shower and changed my clothes. She sent over a small bowl of rice porridge (the Balinese equivalent to chicken soup if you are sick). It felt perfect in my empty stomach. I knew I was on my way to health. By morning I was again able to get out of bed with my own natural energy. Healed.

It was an interesting 30 hours, with many lessons learned. I had been so diligent with making the offerings every day, I couldn't figure out how some evil spirits had crept into the house and took me prisoner. But once I saw how the grama had swatted them out I realized they are part of reality and that it is just like weeds in the garden…they will always show up, and if allowed to stay, they multiply. If tended daily, they are removed and the garden stays healthy and attractive.

 The following night when I went to sleep I realized that I have indeed adopted many of the Balinese manners, other than sleeping with windows and doors closed and lights on and with your clothes on. I still kept my window and curtain wide open and slept in the dark, naked. But after witnessing the serious response of the grama to the invisible spirits, I figured I prefer to be on the safe side. Being without any power for one day was enough for me. So I closed my door and window and curtain and thought I would suffocate, since it is warm and I am used to sleeping with an open window always. And then I realized why they have a very intricately carved piece of wood above each window….so that the air comes in but the spirits stay out. And to my surprise, instead of feeling claustrophobic, I awoke in the morning with a feeling as if I had been asleep in a cocoon, safe and sound and in sync with the natives.

cocks

Ketut raises cocks for fighting. It is his hobby. His younger brother takes a cock to a fight and gambles on it. It is his hobby. Seeing how much time, energy, money and attention is devoted to these cocks I decided to ask ketut what it's all about. So today, while he was bathing his eight cocks, I sat out in the forest with him and watched how he touches them, caresses them…teaching them to trust him and relax and stay calm so that when they are at a fight and are put in the ring, they won't be nervous. They waste their energy on emotions instead of just witnessing and keeping their power for the attack.

I was amazed at how serious this hobby is. How before he buys a chick to raise as a cock, he "reads their palm" (which is like the thumb on their leg) and if it has a vertical line along with the usual horizontal ones, then it is a sign that he is a leader and will probably win if he has the other necessary tratits. What for example?  A strong build, a beak that is curved like an eagles, long red ears that are a sign of fearlessness, beautiful feathers which make him proud and handsome, a voice which is loud and clear and strong.

The cock fighting in bali came via java. There they used to have cock fights that would last some 30 minutes, where the cock that managed to kill his opponent by use of the sharp needle like nail on the back of his legs, was the winner. The Balinese , went for the shortest and more efficient approach and cut off the sharp nail and decided to tie a sharp blade onto the left leg above where the nail was, and that way the contest would only last a few minutes until the winner had proven his superiority. Ketut believes that because of the adrenalin and testosterone in men, they are geared to be 98% directed towards superiority, compared to women, that are usually only 20% competitive and more naturally get along in groups without having to be better than the other. He believes that the preoccupation with the cock fighting is natural for men, especially since there is  no longer an active army or wars going on in bali. The need for the men to still deal with this natural inner drive within them is filled by the raising, fighting and gambling of cocks.

What happens at a cock fight? Two men decide to challenge each others cock to a duel. The stakes can be even higher than $700 for the quick showdown. A good cock will stand there, attentive to his opponents attempts to attack him, but just quietly dodge them. And then once he knows his opponent has tired and his chance is now, he will jump in the air and with one fell swoop will turn his legs upwards like someone hitting you in the face with their elbow, and the blade will kill or severely injure the opponent. End of competition. The winner gets the money, and also receives the cock which lost, and eats it. Those that have gathered around the fighting ring, may have placed bets with the bookie beforehand, and other than the 20% commission that goes to the bookie, are happy to receive their share of the fight too.

Ketut is good at raising winning cocks. One man was so pleased with the cock that he bought from ketut for $40 that won him $700 a few hours later at the fight, that he even returned the cock to him, so he would continue raising it and be able to sell it to someone else too, since the winner was satisfied with his $40 investment and wasn't really interested in caring for the cock, as keut does so lovingly and attentively. I asked ketut if he didn't have the desire to also win $700 just like that?! And he said "no. I prefer to earn my money by the sweat of my brow. I worked hard, and I get money for that. No gambling in it. If I would succumb to the illusion of the instant $700 I may find myself having to put up that amount if I lost! ".

His brother is a totally difference character than ketut. Ketut is calm, peaceful, reassuring, solid,…his brother is quick, light, playful. He likes to gamble. It is a hobby…thankfully not an addiction. How not an addiction? "He has a certain amount of money in a special account for this hobby of cock fighting and gambling. He can do whatever he wants with that money in connection with his hobby. But if he has a lot of money from a win, he will not go out and buy his wife a ring or gold earrings….since it is "bad money" and he would not want to buy her a gift with it. When he doesn't have money in the account, then he doesn't gamble. He doesn't take money from his regular account to cover this hobby."

The priest down the road has lots of cocks that he raises. I asked if ketut speaks with him about techniques for raising winning cocks. He said yes, that the priest has excellent winners for many years, and whoever buys a cock from him may pay more than three times what they pay to ketut, but it is worth it since he is a very experienced cock raiser and gives a quality cock in return. Suddenly this silly preoccupation by most of the men in bali, took on a new face for me. These cocks showed me their cleverness as they notified each other that the nasty cheeky banana collector that once teased them, was in the neighborhood, as they suddenly started yelling at the top of their lungs until he finished his business with my friends mother. Ketut also claims that besides their good memory, their right brain has been developed to a point that they know how to attack and kill in the quickest and subtle manner. And all of the caressing and stroking and hugging and grooming of these birds allows a venue for the more delicate men, that don't necessarily need to be the winner in a cock fight, are able to satisfy their adrenaline and testosterone by raising a winner. And cocks get killed instead of human beings.

problem solving balinese style

For the past week I wake up in the middle of the night at a single quiet ring of a bell that is coming from somewhere in my room. It is so funny that such a little short peaceful sound can wake me up in a second. In the beginning I just ignored it and figured it was a mistake and would go away since it wasn't even at the same time each night. And sometimes it was several times during the night. But as it continued, I decided I should take responsibility and learn how to figure out what it is on my smartphone that I must have pressed by mistake that is causing this alarm to go off all the time. So last night I actually got out of bed, turned on the light and sat there trying to decipher which of the different ringtones it could be. The
what's up? The Viber? The SMS? The Email?  Without any luck I thought that maybe it was my friends cell phone that he gave me in order to call him….maybe it is his that keeps ringing this lone tone at night.

So this morning when I saw him and he asked how I slept, I told him about the ring from the bell that I cannot figure out where it is coming from. He laughed and pointed to my alarm clock that is next to my head in bed. He was home the other night and I had already left for the market at 4 am. and he too heard the bell ring and wondered if it was a patient calling him, or what, and went to figure out where the sound came from, and discovered my little travel clock was the source. I laughed, since I have had it for years and never used it as an alarm clock and don't even know how to turn the alarm on or off!  I figured that if I put my mind to it I should be able to figure it out and stop the bell that awakens me every night. So, as I sat on the porch today, I brought the clock out there too and figured at some point I would get to it. Suddenly it rang again one quiet "ding" in the middle of the afternoon! Aha! Now it is happening in the middle of the day too. I waited until ketut had a moment and explained the problem to him and asked him to help me. I showed him the little switches and was sure with his infinite patience and male mind he would surely move a button that would put an end to the ring.

He watched the clock as I explained it all to him. And when I finished he was silent. He was not doing what western men do! He was not trying to figure out the problem and solve it for me! Instead he said "you must give it time. In a few days he will be your friend. Each time you hear it ring now you say "oh, that bell." And you want it to go away. But with time, when you hear it ring you will say "oh that is my friend again, ringing." That is all, and then he will be your friend and it will not bother you anymore." Who would have thought that is also an option for dealing with the ring from the bell?