Ubud

It’s hard to deny that the premise of Balinese thought is spot on:  all creation leads to balance, all balance leads to destruction, with creation born from the ashes of demise. And ashes are everywhere on this magical island, with tiny wisps of smoke dancing from a thousand perfumed altars, colorfully stacked one upon another, multiplying their beneficence.

Countries, movements, and individuals come to power, wane, and collapse, in endless perpetuity. The Balinese objective is to come to peace with this.

With tertiary stages assigned to most things, such as place, time, and circumstances, perception is instead a surprisingly plus or minus game.  It’s all about yin and yang, black and white, the micro and macro cosmos.

The secret to Dharma Hinduism is that it denies a fistful of gods in favor for the omniscient, which is why it has survived in a country with more Muslims than any other in the world. And yet it isn’t quite so clear as that, with ancestors also worshipped.

No one gets divorced in Bali, and no one is ever buried. All ashes must be relinquished to the sea, or in a river that flows to the sea. It is in this perpetual state of ritual and worship that Bali still shines:  the communality of village ceremonies, the splendor of the Sacred Monkey Forest, and the transcendence of the Holy Water Temple.

Here’s my photo essay on Ubud.