yes?

yes? mah- sahz? yes dah-ling? you looking? yes mees- ees? manicure? muh-saz? yes? you eating here dah-ling? free wee-fee. you come in. look inside. yes? bike? yes transport? where you go-eeng? yes? yes?

whoosh. the bule bali assault.

I almost don't want to leave the fauxtel... ya. not even a real hotel in all honesty. I think the dudes that run it sell or do a lot of drugs or something.
I can't figure out what else they actually do besides sit around and stare as I come in and out.

the staring thing isn't actually that bad in bali (at least compared to padang) since its about 50% Australian here in kuta so there are plenty of blondes in bikinis so the novelty has worn off some.

now its just a dollar sign walking towards them.



oh man.
a little balanese babygirl who can't be more then 5 years old just tried to sell me bracelets. she has that five year old raspy voice that KILLS me.
seriously, if I could guarantee that my baby would be a fiesty smart tomboy green eyed girl with a low raspy voice and freckles I'd give up everything and have babies tomorrow.

as always, as I have been doing for a week now, as is becoming my mantra, I say no. sorry. ma af. tidak mao. no thank you. or the worst... head down, say nothing and pretend like that little face doesn't exist.
ooof.

I'm the girl who can't say no.
I always have been.

I'm zani-go.

and I pretty much live my life by the yes factor. it makes life so much more fun and interesting... sometimes awkward, often injured (or at least with blistered feet from impromptu adventures wearing the wrong footware) but fun and wonderful and exciting.

my dear friend and love, joshie lives by this too. it's probably why we have had the most outrageous adventures to date.
we say yea. we go with it.
whatever "it" is...
are you guys brother and sister?
yup. twins. but one of us might be adopted?
are you guys married?
yup.
wanna go that way and most probably get lost and/or stuck?
yup.

and yet here I am... the "yes girl" in bali saying no like it's my job.

it's bullshit.

it especially bugs me because for some reason that is this seasons's street sales pitch... for everyone.
no... I'm serious.
everyone.
they literally all say the same thing.

and they ALL get to say "yes" all day while I have to walk around saying no.

I mean... even if I had a million dollars and could buy everything I wanted... I don't WANT 300 identical bin tang tank tops...

so here is my plan I just came up with in this very moment...

either I am starting my own company here so I can say "yes" to everyone or else I am just gonna start saying yes. I love you. and then walking away.
same result, right?
I won't buy the bin tang shirt but I can avoid that toxic word "no"

I'll try it and keep you posted on how it goes.

Wallaki: "The Follower of the Sun"

Wallaki: "The Follower of the Sun"

There are many moments in my life which stand out as though they slowed down and got more colorful as they were deposited in my life's memory bank.

One was the time i watched a total eclipse of the sun through a piece of film sitting on my daddy's shoulders as we stood in a crowd of people outside my acting class in Long Beach, California. (I was playing the coroner in wizard of oz). I remember feeling like i had made friends with the sun that day.

My mother is a self-proclaimed sun-worshipper. She grew up in South America and the tropics and is so addicted to palm trees she cries when they are not around. When we lived in Germany and Switzerland she would dress my sister and I in little hawaiian skirts, turn on every lamp she could find, crank up the heat, and blast latin dance music. Party. (Love this woman)... One of my first movie watching memories is when she showed us kids "Endless Summer" and i remember thinking how happy my mother would be if once the sun set, it just bounced back into the sky and starting arcing the other way.

Hence, the daughter of sun-worshippers... i too follow the sun.

Last year i came to Indonesia for the first time after a lovely divorce not knowing what to expect but entering with arms and heart wide open and by some divinity i ended up at Togat Nusa Retreat on Pitojet Island in the Mentawais.
My father, my ex-husband and my then-current roommates are all musicians... so i felt very happy to arrive on the island and see a guy strumming a guitar.

It just so happened that Wallaki was staying on the island too.

Fast forward one year and his album "Follower of the Sun" has been released and is getting play time on Indo radio.... I had the privilege of hearing the mastered copy before the sleeves were even printed and I got to experience one of these slowed-down, hyper-color memory bank deposit moments that week as Wallaki and I sat on the island under a driftwood bungalow roof and co-wrote a song called "You Can Never Go Too Slow"...

At this moment in time, I am sitting in Bali sunshine, listening to Wallaki's Bali Flow.

the islands took my heart and soul.

They did.
I feel so infatuated with the islands of Indonesia.
(for me... it has mainly been with the Mentawai Islands) - but all Indonesian culture moves me... the language, the food, the culture, the people, and the symbolism i seem to find in everything.
But it's just the vibe when you are here... this "Jam Karet" or "Rubber Time".... this easy island vibe where i find that people are so much further evolved in their view of "time" then we are in the western world.
Yes... i believe it to be more evolved.
To be ABLE to move slowly and feel each moment instead of releasing a stretched rubber band in the morning and sling shotting through the day. No. Here, time is always bending, flowing and taking in each ray of the sun and somehow EWO. Everything Works Out.

free wheelin'
sunshine stealin'
spirit freein'
now we're believin'
and all the things that took their time.
they took a while, now i'll take mine.

When Wallaki and i met, we immediately bonded, as music loving, sky watching Aries sun-worshippers.

He lives "out there" - flying beside the sun... drinking in the synchronectar, making friends with the spirits in the clouds and the people walking beneath them which makes his unique and intriguing as a musician in the saturated industry.

His enthusiasm for the Indonesian culture and language echoes mine - or rather, mine echoes his- and I appreciate his music on such a personal level, in that i live on these islands - which are his muses, and we got to write music together...
But what i love the most, is his lyricism.
The way he paints articulate, colorful pictures, sewing them together with strings of words that i can smell and taste...
His poetic lyrics remind me of a combo of Colin Dieden & Jack Johnson.

i LOVE words.

I have been accused of using too many words.
I have been encouraged to use word economy.
But my love for words is what brought me to where i am.

In Bali.
In a perfect moment of peace as Wallaki's Follower of The Sun plays...
The beautiful Suara Alam (which means "the sound of the atmosphere") is playing through my speakers and summing up my vibe pretty perfectly at this moment in time...psh. time... whatever THAT shit is.

Maybe I fell into the Bali Flow without even knowing it.

I followed the sun to this moment and i encourage everyone to do the same.

As Khalil Gibran says "You see but your shadow when you turn your back to the sun" - so face the sun, infuse your soul with light & let music like this be the soundtrack to your journey.

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Wallaki-The-Long-Lost-Brothers/208974075787173?sk=app_165132283544930

oh hi, bali ho.

this entry was started a few days ago... feels like a lifetime ago... maybe it was a week.
i have no clue.
______________________

oh man I was stressed.

woke up at 5:30 and stumbled around the driftwood castle in the dark
(no gennie that early)
it was raining and I did NOT want to get up.

this never happens here. the moment I blink my eyes open I say a little prayer that Ruli or Linda are up and the good coffee is ready in the kitchen ... but either way when I'm up I'm up and I'm stoked to be up.
this morning-- I was down and stoked to stay down.

I slept in the bar cuz I wanted to make sure I was up and also because there is a full on bed in the bar.
it's badass.
ainsley and I basically stayed in bed all day yesterday.
there's surround sound, ocean view and a bar! and a bed!
it's incred.
I used the popup mosquito net which sucks and does not work. I always get eaten.
but luckily there was so much rain and thunder and lightning last night that the mozzies didn't come out too much.
I had weird dreams. vivid.
ainz and John e and birdie and Joey were in them. nothing too awesome happened it was just an extension of the day.
maybe that's why I feel tired and unrested. it's like I didn't sleep. everything was just a status quo day in my sleep.
birdie staggered past me, put on a big yellow raincoat and walked off through the jungle towards the worker house to pay Jonas (and make sure he was up probably)...
i got my shit down to the beach to wait for the boat to pull up and wrapped everything in black trash bags to keep dry in the boats.
I'm taking mine and Ainsley's laptops to get fixed in bali.
everything was secure.
I put on Matty & Avasa Love's "let the sun shine through"
and realized I had a few moments to drift off into a daydream meditation.
I found myself in tawney's living room right where I met Matty and Avasa for the first time.
they had come over to serenade tawney after our accident.
I remember sitting on the couch listening, watching their love agine through like sunlight, my legs were draped over shawnski. his arms resting on my knees. a zenzanshawntishanti sandwich!
oh man I miss those.
the sounds of Venice beach coming through my ithing were interrupted by birdie arriving back on the beach, throwing the yellow raincoat over me and handing me a bottle of water.

"he's coming. sorry zani... people here have never known a life where 6am actually means 6am"

jonas still didn't come

willy- the Indonesian guy had told me to be in tua pajet at 7.
shitttt I thought-- what if I miss the flight?
my mind started flickering through scenarios-- what ifs... i started stressing thinking about what I would do... how I would try not to be angry but i would really need to breathe...

My buddy was in trouble in Padang and needed me and yet I was essentially stuck in the hands of people who didn't understand the concept of time

time.

what is time again? hahah. what a joke. how did i forget about the joke that is "life" and lose myself in a moment of seriousness? there is no rush for anything ever.
no worries. everything would unfold in it's perfectly imperfect divine timing and at the end of the day who cared?
I had fallen into very LA energy waiting out on that beach and I didn't like it.
I buried my toes in the sand, took a deep breath and sunk into the now... which is all that eventually exists...
almost immediately i heard the sound of the sampan's motor coming around the bend of the island.

I hugged my buddy birdie who ive spent literally every single day for almost two months with and climbed aboard the boat.
(I can only imagine his sigh of relief at a break from my woo-woo spiritual mumbo jumbo manifestation nonstop talk)

the buzz of the motor sliced through the still indian ocean vibe as the sun was rising over the glassy water.
the two indo guys that came from padang yesterday to fix our fridge squatted at the boe of the boat... i think they must have slept down in the worker housing last night.

nobody on the boat spoke a word of english... the fridge guys up front and me an Jonas chit chatting in broken indo about my going to bali.. what color shorts he wanted me to get him and how when I got back I would surf better then him... ha.
mungkin...

we got to tua pajet at 7 on the nose. the LA chick in me shrug wiggled my shoulders back an inch and nodded one sharp nod of approval before laughing and throwing my arms in the air. who cares?
i got off and stood on the ambu ambu dock for about 5 minutes... everyone just stood around smoking cloves and looking in No rush

I figured i missed it and just sat on a curb..

I kept asking people as they walked by "dimana willy?" to which people pointed up the street vaguely... I didn't drink any coffee before i left the island and felt my energy dragging hard.. one of the indo boat guys standing around made a comment that I was angry... I said no!!
saya capek sekali! perlu kopi!

again I got the vague point up the street indicating that there was coffee and plenty of time to get some.

so I walked up the tua pajet road that i am getting familiar with and bought three iced Nescafe mocha coffees and a bag of chips. i gave the other two away to Jonas and another guy that I had been chatting to but didn't catch his name.

we finally got on the boat around 8:30 and the not jonas guy i gave the coffee to ran up to me smiling and waving for me to wait before i stepped off the dock and on to the sampan... and he put a black baggie in my hand. it felt hot and liquidy. I figured it would be some kind of squid or something that would moat likely make me vomit so I just thanked him and got on the boat.
hesitantly opening it up I found a another plastic baggie full if hot coffee (the really good dirty car oil kind) with a straw rubber banded to the top. homie got me a coffee to go!

I love the Mentawais so hard.

this second sampan ride to the "airport" took about an hour...
again i was the only English speaker on board but totally made friends and talked about kids and the Mentawais and other stuff.
I finally accepted a clove and smoked a few drags after being offered one literally 10,000 times. (kind of like when I learned to just accept a cup of tea in England when I'm offered a million times) but i totally made friends with the guys which was cool.

we arrived at wherever the hell the plane leaves from and I climbed off the boat onto a slippery log, waded to land and walked up to a tiny house and a "runway" that's a yard with roosters walking across it.

intense

Mentawai airport

btw- it's 9:43 and I'm still the only woman and only English speaker ive seen since I left birdie this morning as the sun was coming up over paradise island...
I love Indonesia.
I really do.
I feel like everyone is my friend.

we are all draped across these shitty benches that are falling apart-- facing a typical southeast Asian jungle/rainforest in the background of this unbelievable "runway"...
there are flies everywhere
everyone is topless and barefoot except the police?
I mean- I don't know what they are- there are three- one is siting next to me and they have badges and black outfits.
I think the guy next to me is asleep.
who knows?
the little room behind me has one table with a pen and some scribbles on a paper
that's where I "checked in"
suuuure

when I booked this flight I texted with willy
cost is 335.000rp total
okay 335.000rp. right willy?
right.

willy is behind this tiny desk saying 350.000

it's basically two dollars more. still... it's just so typical.

okay. time for clear intentions.

I am going to get to padang a driver will be waiting for me with my name written on a card- we'll go pick up Joey- go get the tickets, get our passports and then and then get my friend and take him to bali and out of harms way.
it's gonna work out perfectly.
I will be in bali by this evening

then I will get my friend on a flight to America and he will be safe and sound within 72 hrs.

--------

things went smoothly-ish

the plane was this little world war two fighter jet style thing that you had to wear awesome yellow ear protection...
like what drummers wear.
it was so loud it was crazy



i landed in padang and got off the tiny plane and walked out expecting my driver to be holding a sign with my name on it.
instead I received a call in that moment from the driver saying they were 30 min away.
shit.

I was so super crunched for time.
I had the typical 10,000 men surrounding me and asking if I needed a taxi.
every time I've come through padang I put my head down and just say no no no and move through the swarm of men who I can't communicate to.
this time I put on my LA bitch that can now somewhat communicate in bahasa Indonesia and addressed the crowd of twenty men around me

"okay listen up y'all" and off I went in my broken language tirade about how my brother was sick and somewhere in padang city.
I needed a good driver who could drive fast but safely to take me into padang. find my friend - go get his passport- go meet Lisa and get my passport and meet lyre and pick up our plane tickets and then return to the airport to make the flight that left in 2 hours.
(padang city is about 45 min from the airport)
bam.
I had a guy... two guys actually. the driver's friend insisted on coming and sitting shotgun.
(for entertainment value I'm sure)
we were off... sampoerna clove smoke billowing out the windows of the indo version of an suv taxi- bumping minang music with the bule blonde aries leo rising chick in the back seat on super-drive mode texting up a storm and coordinating the swoop.

don't ask me how... but within one hour I had my buddy, his passport, his laptop, my passport, our tickets and we were in his business partner's car en route back to the airport.
I paid my drivers who were totally disappointed not to be able to see the end of the movie I had just pulled them into- but their work was done.
The guys talked business about their boat as we sped back to the airport.
lookin out the windshield of the tiny white hatchback (again, filled with clove smoke and weird hyper indo music) I saw, in slow motion it seemed, two motorbike collide and go down.. our car slamming the breaks- tires squealing and then the impact.
we hit both motorbikes and somehow did not kill anyone.
our instinct was to jump out and hold c-spine like we were taught as EMTs
but our indo friend driving grabbed us and said no.
don't

somehow nobody died but it threw me for several loops.

I was in two serious car accidents in the week before i left LA - I have been on an island nowhere near a car for over 2 months and within one hour off the island an BAM I
am in another accident.

we got to padang airport and made our flight as if by magic.
(please refer to my blog about EWO)... http://aloveninja.blogspot.com/2011/03/jam-karet-rubber-time.html

by time we were in Jakarta my friend was having a hard time so I just went in to oober beacon mode... stayed present, clear and strong... had him hold my rose quartz amulets, listen to zen music, and breathe and gave him guided meditation and massage.
he made it.

we even got upgraded to business class for free from Jakarta to bali...

finally in bali we got to a hotel... the losari hotel- which is waaaay over priced for what it is but we could go there and be safe and sound... it had air conditioning and hot water and room service.

it was an intense night.

I stayed up all night chanting and praying and sending healings to my friend- my brother who was hurting.

I woke up and immediately bought him a flight back to LA.
he would be leaving -- on a flight by that night...

in the meantime, I had to take him to the hospital which was intense

i saw so many people coming in gushing blood from motorbike accidents and reef related surfing incidents.
I made friends with the main doctor named bayu (duh.)
got to look at X-rays of my friend's neck and see the inner workings of the bali BCIM hospital...

I finally got him back to the airport, broke trough security to get him to gate and make sure he had boarding pass in hand.

hugging him tight and sending blessings, I got back into my twentieth taxi of the day and headed back to the losari hotel...
I called my mother and burst into tears, telling her the whole epic story.

I climbed into bed, put on my friend nick "wallaki" music and close my eyes.

I felt a deep sleep coming on for the first time in days upon days..

knock. knock. knock.

my friend was back. he couldn't leave the country due to kitas issues- no exit visa blah blah blah...

i was a little deflated to be honest. feeling like i failed at my mission.

I woke up all through the night in panics.

the energy in kuta is intense... lots of "yes!? yes !? ma'am... special price for YOU! come look!" and people throwing things in your face.
the buzz of the city was deafening and getting on my last nerve.
(something that had never happened before)
I've lived in the HUB of city noise,,, on bay street in Santa Monica and on Notting Hill Gate road in London... I mean, I'm a city girl...
but somehow my chemistry has changed living at togat Nusa. I don't like big cities and noise.
I like peace and serenity and nature noise.

I was far from that in kuta.

i finally climbed out of bed at 9am to have breakfast in the lobby.
my frend yuko came over and hung out for about an hour... so good to see a familiar face.
she commented on my face and how dark the circles were under my eyes.
she had just seen me last month on my island paradise life living in bliss and peace... now I was stressed beyond anything.
(maybe this was the universe's way of restoring balance?)

my friend and i decided to check out of losari and move hotels.
we somehow landed on the biggest shithole in bali. it's 80,000 rupiah a night- so about $9 dollars... the rooms have fans, no sheets, no hot water and basically just shy of a jail cell.
but whatever.
it would do. and 9 bucks is just within my budget.
i filmed a very sarcastic vlog about it that night.


that night, I went and met my friend from padang, Christina and Yuko and a few others for sunset drinks at double 6 beach and then went to have thai food with yuko in kuta which was soooo good.
amazing vegetarian thai food and rose wine from bali actually.
it was incredible (though didn't hold a candle to the green papaya salad ainz made on the island last week using papayas from the garden which was the best of my life.)
we girl talked over dinner and then she drove me home on her motorbike.

I came "home" to the heroin-chic minus the chic hotel" on poppies 2 in kuta...
and fell asleep with a raging headache to the sweet sounds of clubs thumping and drunk/hallucinating people staggering outside my ground level door.

maybe this was again--- the universe making up for the peaceful sleep in the island jungle... about as far away from humans and city bullshit as one could get out here.

I woke at 6:30am and went to cafe moka on seminyak to meet yuko and go to yoga with her.

I had NO idea what I was getting in to.

yuko threw me on the back of her motorbike and turned down all these secret alleyways until we came upon a big steel gate with 7's painted all over it.
yuko got off and reached through a hole to activate the opening of the gate.
and in we drove to a place i will never forget.



this studio is a home... an iyengar haven- nestled in this lush, gorgeous tropical forest garden of a bali mansion... a huge emu (their pet) was outside wiith tons of other animals and foliage...
we were on a wooden stage equipped with every kind of iyengar prop and tool... statues, rope walls, sculptures, incense, it was the quintessential "bali yoga haven"...
and an icredibly intelligent iyengar class that would make Lisa Walford very very proud.... taught by an american woman who reminded me of my pseudo mom from palisades, Ellen McCormick.

after class I wandered around the grounds staring at a Ganesha for a long time thinking about the Ganesha sculpture I bought my parents.
the one i got my parents sits in their garden in moraga and tia just sent me a picture a few days ago of all the northern california wild flowers that popped up all around it.

I miss California but I just don't think I want to live there. I am in love with the Mentawais right now and I can't think of not being out there -- I'm sure I will fall in love a million more times in the next few months but I just don't see myself back in California for a long time.

shaking myself back to "reality" which was this post-yoga blessed blissed- out state in a surreal balanese garden with a guy standing where we just practiced pouring this gorgeous metal carved teapot- filing up small glass cups with delicious chai tea and palm sugar. all the yogis sat on the dark wooden floor an sipped their tea and chatted...
I heard so many accents.. it was such a beautiful tribe, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude that I could be a part of it.

after class we went by yuko's house which is up the road and somehow seemingly in the country-- nestled in rice patties near cows yet IN seminyak...

seriously beautiful, peaceful little zen zone I could see myself living in very easily.
after a quick tour, we jumped back on her bike and drove two blocks to an amazing vegetarian restaurant where we had another delicious meal...
I had tofu salad and vegan tom yum soup with iced mint, rosehips and elderflower tea...

I felt so renewed and refreshed and invigorated to help my friend and make the most of this beautiful place.

I remembered the thing about big cities.. you have to dig for what you want...

it's like Ross dress for less- all the awesome stuff is there you just gotta be patient and willing to dig through a bunch of crap to find the cool stuff you want and vibe with.

yuko helped me find the things today that fit me perfectly-- yoga, veggie food and peace and I remembered that I love bali so much.

after I left yuko I went to meet jen... she is my friend with the yoga goddess surf retreat in balian.
she is so awesome an again we had such a nice time siting and chatting over chai.

she invited me and some friends to her house/retreat in balian. so I am going on Monday! I can't wait to surf and practice yoga with her and see her little Mecca (from what it sounds like)

and ubud will come... after balian probably... I kind of like the idea of ubud being at the end of this aventure since it is what I am buying myself for my birthday and this lead up is so stressful and crazy, it will be great to just relax and ease back into zen life before I go back to the island.

tomorrow I am going to meet yuko and go take an anusara yoga class at this retreat spa place that apparently has a salt water pool and jacuzzi and restaurant so we can spend the afternoon there.

...to be continued. (obviously)

gettin agrOM

gettin agrOM

the first Yama in the first Sutra of The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali is
"ahimsa" - non-violence

the first commandment in the Holy Bible is "though shalt not kill"

the Dalai Lama says very simply that they key to life is to attain happiness but teaching compassion and non-violence to others.

and yet, here I sit on this rainy day... my lightweigt van halen burnout hoodie from Venice beach pulled over my head, sitting on the restaurant's driftwood table with my barefeet on the bench (which is the side of the open side wall of the uma) looking out at the heavy grey morning and seemingly silver sea and I'm playing the guitar joshie gave me, singing sublime & Gwen stefani's "I saw red"
... one more secret lover that I shot dead.


in the background I can hear birdie's computer playing Braveheart... as he lies sprawled on the couch (clearly unimpressed enough with the weather that he started movie day at 6:30am)
a collection of indo workers are crouched around him in a semi circle clearly trying to follow the dialogue but really only watching the images...
I put my guitar down for a minute and thought about those images... one of the goriest movies of all time.. and without a story line what that must be like to watch...

why do we participate is violence?

and why do we even chose to bring gruesome visuals and thoughts into our heads in a place like this?

we are living on an island paradise where there is very little to fear... no call for violence (except maybe a little aggression that it takes to machete a coconut open)...

and something in us (mostly in guys- which i definitely attribute to testosterone) crave that drunken moshpit punk rock energy.
i just don't really get it.

but it must be part of human nature?

------------

two days later.

that morning was gloomy, which we took as a PERFECT opportunity for some sweaty vinyasa flow.
As i taught with eyes closed (as i usually do)... i started talking about compassion and non-violence... and how we have to start by practicing non-violence to ourSELVES.
we can push ourselves over a hump - but not by forcing... by positive thinking and encouragement...
i think i can
i think i can
fear does not serve us...
just as those negative thoughts that play on a broken record in our heads...
it's time to turn them off.
turn of the violence.
turn off the self-deprecation.
turn off the negativity.
and choose to stand in light.

Slowly, the sunshine broke through and we decided we would make an adventure out of our day, which was the second to last day for Holly. (our guest/my new friend)...

So, Birdie, Holly, Gina (the other yogini goddess guest that we love), Me and Linda (our indo chef and my partner in crazy)... got into the mama-bear boat driven by Jonas and headed to the village for a little sociocultural adventure.

I personally love the village. I think its super interesting. I get almost overwhelmed by the vibe there... the simplicity and silent noise. it lacks "white noise" completely... that static buzzing, background that i have lived in front of my entire life.
the background noise in the village is bugs clicking and snapping in the jungle, and children playing in the ocean, and conversations being had from the cool cement floor of the dark homes lined up along the path/road that runs down the middle of the village... chickens and monkeys hang around as palm frawns are sewn together to make roofs.
My friend was standing near the church with a table full of drying sea slugs. (apparently a man from jakarta comes and buys them to sell as a delicacy back in jakarta). they look like poo to me.
he speaks to me slowly and in bahasa indonesia. (versus mentawai... which is totally different and i can only understand two words)...

We walked a little further and made our way to Pak Mantan's house. He used to be the chief of the village for many years and only recently has been replaced by a younger guy that people aren't that fond of apparently. Everyone still goes to Pak Mantan for advice and guidance. Mantan works on the island now with John E. helping to build the bungalows.
He reminds me of my Grandpere for many reasons.
First of all... he has that grandfather energy... you just feel it. (he does have about 300 grandkids i think... so its kind of a no brainer that he would have that energy). He walked up the other day as i was squatting next to a palm tree yeilding a machete, ready to hack away at a coconut to open and drink it. He just took the machete right out of my hands and gave me this look like... NO. this is why i am here. i can do this for you. stop trying to prove yourself, jenny. yes... all the workers call me jenny.

i think one of them couldn't say the "z" and it sounded like jenny and we all just went with it and ignored it and now everyone calls me jenny.

i think its kind of awesome.

and ironic, since just before i left to come out here i did my EMT training at UCLA and the medics that were my skills instructors all decided that i was Jenny from Forrest Gump... yes. i heard "Run, Forest, Run." my fair share of times in that month. its cool.

haha.

anyways - i made like a bird and flew far, far, far away and ended up this day in the little village of Pokorajet on the island of Sipura

at Pak Mantan's house having a coffee with the village women and their ten thousand kids....
i met two of Sue's sisters. Sue is Cahn's wife... who i had the pleasure of being at their wedding when i first arrived.
Sue apparently had 14 siblings.
They are all so sweet and loving... although we can barely communicate.
We communicate with emotions and eye contact.


After about an hour, we all piled back on the boat and headed south to the beach break...
This beautiful uninhabited part of Sipura Island, that i came to last year with Brent and Erin is MUCH less intimidating to surf on then the reef... which scares me quite a lot.

i try to distinguish all the time - is my fear of the reef and giant waves founded... or is it a barrier... something i need to encourage myself past...
OR
is it there to protect me?

would it be showing less compassion to myself to just go against my gut and throw myself onto the reef?
or to honor the fear i feel?

either way -- we were at the beach, which is totally do-able and beautiful and we built this killer shade structure out of palm frawns... we called it "the rugged room" since we felt extremely rugged marching into the jungle and getting frawns and dragging them back to the beach to construct this structure...

pretty much only the cooler (which i found out is called an "eskie" in australia) was covered by the shade structure... so we ended up sitting in the sun, surfing the mellow reef-free waves, trading a cold beer for 5 coconuts from a jungle man who happened to see us on the beach- burying jonas and linda in sand...

our motto for the rugged room was
"Skin cancer might kill you later, but warm Bintang sucks now."

We thought it was hilarious.

all in all - a VERY successful adventure day...

So, as the sun started yawning we paddled back out to the boat and made our way back to Togat Nusa, just in time for a sing-a-long on the beach at sunset with gin and tonics and a guitar... watching the finger-painted sky change colors...



As the night ensued... we drank more... and more... and more...

and before we knew it we were wasted and it was 3am.

time for a jalan jalan... (a walk around the island)

it's all a bit hazy, but i know that at some point someone had the brilliant idea to swim across the channel to the other island.

This is NOT advised at super low tide, i have come to find.

the water was about 6 inches deep on top of the reef and i swam straight into a giant sea urchin that stabbed its foot long spines into my knee and another one got my hand.



(i think this might be the part where the universe is telling me that my fears of the reef might be founded.)

I somehow made it back to my bed and woke up to Birdie flashing a light in my eyes saying "Zani! Wake up! Yona is about to do some voo-doo witch doctor shit on your knee."

She made a needle out of hair and worked, i think, until the sun came up.

All i know is that waking up in the morning i was in agony... there were many bodies and bugs and an entire beach of sand in my bed, and a hangover that would probably kill a small model.

I pretty much immediately sat down on the computer and bought myself travel insurance. i have been forgetting to do this since before i left... and last night birdie looked at my leg and said "well shit zan... you've been in the islands for almost 2 months and you haven't had a bad infection or life-threatening illness yet... you're due for SOMEthing.
hence - insurance. thank you travel nomads.

Guests from another island resort arrived to have lunch with us at togat nusa, and next thing i knew, i was being asked to give massage to one of the other resort's guest.
Holding my head in my hands and hobbling over to the bungalow, i used all the strength i could muster to set up the massage table and began the massage.
i started talking to the Australian guy who i was working on and our conversation quickly turned to spirituality and comparative theology (as most conversations with me do in about 5 minutes)...

and we started talking about Pratipaksha Bhavanam.... essentially turning lemons to lemonade...

i thought back to the previous 24 hrs and how many times i was able to draw these situations and take such a positive spin from each of them.
instead of getting agro and violent, i could make a conscious choice to laugh and see the poetry & irony in the situation and realize that
its all in our perception...
everything.


we have no say in deciding what will happen...
the only thing we ever get to choose is our reaction...
so i laugh and OM...
and wherever i may be...
i find that i am hOMe when i'm with me...

roots

roots
*********
hari ini

the island is washing away in front of my zen zone...

it's so interesting how the tides shift throughout the year and erode parts of the island, leaving a cliff of beach and exposed tree roots where there was once a sloping dune of sand

last year when I first came to this paradise I now am blessed enough to call hOMe... there was a slope in front of the driftwood castle.
when I arrived back here in march there was a sheer drop we had to leap off of.. and last night at sunset (which was unbelievable beyond measure... pics from holly's camera to come)- we saw that the radiant ball of fire was leaning down to kiss the horizon so we grabbed our kalapacardis (coconuts and Bacardi) and ran out the front of the castle ready to make our cliff diver leap on to the beach only to find that it required more of a step then a leap.
the sand was coming back up again to how it was last may.

the full moon was two days ago and I know the tides are most intense (highest and lowest) at this time... so i think maybe things are shifting and the erosion (strong tides that pull away parts of this island) are rotating clockwise towards where the zen zone tent is.

the waves are so loud at night I almost always wake up around 4:30am-- oftentimes at 4:44... (of course) to the sound of the waves slapping against the exposed roots and sandy cliff in front of my house.

the "roots" of everything fascinate me.

I like to know where people are rooted - where they came from, and where their spiritual foundation is etc...
I love to look at the roots of trees and plants (the Aspen tree and the lotus are my favorites)
and I am especially interested in the roots of words.

I was thinking about the word in Indonesian for "wave" as a set of them slapped the island... OMBEK

one of my favorite Upanishads is "moksha beksho bandhaha"
even the desire for liberation is bondage.

I thought about BEKsho- desire
and how the desire for union could be
OM BEKsho

whoa.

I mean OM (in my personal translation) is the sacred syllable for all that is.
it is peace.
it is the union between darkness and light. the yoking of opposites...
it is SAMA (balance)--- or Sama in Indonesian actually means 'with'
same thing kind of...
it is consciousness.
union within

to indo... a wave is literally the desire for union.

pergi ke gereja.
to go to church.

all across the world you hear surfers refer to surfing a going to church.

taking a wave is like receiving communion.

communion.

like... COME, UNION.

(see how I can follow roots through the maze of my mind and bring it all together somehow? ha)

so now I sit as the sun is creeping up over the palm trees to our right as we sit and look out to the breaking ombek out front of the castle.

the Santa Lucia charter boat is anchored next to the waves... surfers are already taking communion this morning- carving down the turquoise walls of desire that form on top of the reef, chased by the foamy aftermath that rolls towards us, before reforming as an aftershock that finally collapse on our island.

the shades of aqua, tuquoise, and teal are vibrant today dancing underneath the warm, sunny morning sky... puffy clouds are flicked here and there bouncing the bright light in every direction... like the crystal I used to hang in my window of the jungle room at OM home...
there are schools of irridescent fish glittering through the ripples in front of the island as they swim against the current...
the view right now is so magical it's almost to much to believe.

how did I get here?

was this all just purely manifestation or is some of it karmic reward?

OM MANI PADME HUM
"the jewel in the center of the lotus"

like the lotus that grows down in the shit... roots in the muck... and emerges on top of the water, blooming as this elegant beautiful flower... maybe that's a karmic reward like my existence here...

I am feeling my roots today.
and i am so grateful to be where i am.

27 year old ponderings

************************
27 year old ponderings

there is an orchid that blooms for one day a year.

this tiny romantic flower smells like vanilla and pops up everywhere the morning of a full moon... it's sweet, divine aroma wafting across the island for just one day.

ainsley walked up after we had practiced yoga yesterday and handed me this tiny orchid, one of thousands growing across the jungle...

it made me dive into thoughts about living for one day.

maybe these flowers are so beautiful and so magical and aromatic because all of that goodness isn't spread out across an entire lifetime. they get to just give their ALL for one glorious day, holding nothing back.

maybe thats why all these incredible artists and musicians and dynamic, firey friends of mine died so young. (that crazy thing where super talented people always die at 27)...
maybe their time was always allotted and somewhere inside them their spirit knew that it would be short.
they only had 27 years to squeeze out all their goodness... and so it was intense and powerful...
versus someone who is allotted 90 years and only give a little of themselves at a time... just 1/90th a year.

but of course, the thing is... we DON'T know how many days we've been given.

the yogis believe we are allocated a certain number of breaths when we are born... so if we slow down the breath - take longer, deeper, fuller breaths each day, we can elongate our lives.

i like that idea. because someone running around stressed out and hyperventilating all day could use all my breaths in 27 years, but i can still have all the intensity and just slow down time.

like these sea tortoises that live for 150 years... they move so slowly, im sure they breathe super slowly.
MAYBE they would only live for a day if they didn't slow down time.
or maybe they are like the people who live a long life only sharing a sliver of themselves every day... just trudging along through the sea.

i have so very many thoughts flipping around in my brain right now about time and life... i don't quite know what i'm trying to say here, because i haven't figured it out yet, and i haven't had enough coffee this morning, or enough alone time to contemplate and write for a while... so i find myself with the tail ends of these strands of thought and a little follow-up flag in my brain that said "think about this later"

still... all i know is that i would like to live as though i am going to die tomorrow.

i think its the best way to live.

why not give your all today? right?

i mean, seriously though... why not?

why would you not love carelessly and freely?
and open your heart, allowing the possibility that it could be broken and trampled on, but also affording yourself the opportunity to experience a profound deep love...
laugh loudly and howl at the moon
dance because it feels good inside of you and not because of how it might look to others.
if you want to paint today... PAINT!
if you want to sing today... SING!

free your spirit.




the last two year of my incredible life, i be-brothered these folks.
lived with almost all of them in one realm or another.
and will be traveling with a few of them in the coming year.
we call ourselves by many names...
younglove.

we're for today.

the gift of memory

**************
27 years since the day i was born...

i received this link from my soul sister tawney.



this is hands down the best birthday present i have ever gotten.
no... i mean, ever.

tears of joy to my shoulder...

my heart goes SQUEEEEEZE.

it hurts.

but it hurts so good.

i have to remind myself that its okay to let my heart long for venice and my tribe and the sickened feeling?...
the ball of nauseous emotion creeping up my rib cage?...
that knot in my stomach?...
and this dread-lock in the fibers of my heart?...
that's just being hOMesick.

i'm strong as hell.
i was raised by the strongest, most resilient amazonian love warriors on the planet.
and i AM a ninja of love.
i fall in love HARD and fast... fiercely and intensely adoring the people i care about.

but like my sweet goddess sister carrie turner sings...

"how did you think i would feel? i'm a woman. i'm not made of steel."

and SO this breaks my heart.
it makes the hOMesickness almost too much to swallow and at the same time it strokes the lonely, longing, desperately aching part of me, that dreams of these people and thirsts to drink in their love and touch hands and be wrapped together beneath a native american inspired blanket singing our souls and pledging unconditional love and unity as the (now estranged) family that we are...

i love you venice beach.
i love you tawney & ski house compound
i love you OM hOMe
i love you bermuda triangle sphere-a-mid
i love you donna house
i love you pan-a-mowgli's
i love you my sisters and brothers.
... my heartbeat.
... my life force.

i wouldn't be me without you and your enCOURAGEment.

i wouldn't be walking along these indonesian sands if you had not walked beside me along those venice streets.





OM prem, namaha

eternally.