Going Home via The Middle Way

     I know I recently wrote a blog entry, and I don't usually write them so close together, but I feel that it is time to do so now, anyway.  I go home to America today, and my Bali trip is at  a close. Do I want to go home?  Well, I go back and forth, but I have some commitments I want to attend to, and I have loved ones I want to see. At first I thought I might not return to Bali since I have been here so long already and seen quite a lot, but after the last few days, I believe I will... I just feel it is in the stars.  We will see, I suppose.
     My home stay host, Made (MA-day), who is a painter, a driver, and home stay owner, told me that I had to visit the ARMA Museum in Ubud. He used to work there and said it was the best museum for art. Yesterday, things flowed smoothly, and I ended up there. I was rather tired. The day before, I had had an extraordinary day at a Hindu water temple taking the purifying baths and then trekking around the Jatiluwih rice fields. I had known I would end my trip there because on my short visit a few weeks ago, both these places beckoned to me. My driver, Wayan, accompanied me and we had a splendid 2 hour walk and a picnic of fish sate and rice with water spinach in a farmer's rest hut. The whole day was terribly meaningful, and I was exhausted at the end of that  evening and even into the next day.

    I moved back to Ubud the next day, took care of some business, and wound up at the ARMA.  I wasn't feeling particularly connected to the art, and after I walked out of the modern collection, a quiet, handsome elderly gentleman asked me to sit next to him. He was on a park bench outside of the building in the museum grounds.  He said, "Look around you. You are not seeing the art. Look at the different colors of the green, look at the moss-colored statues, there is art everywhere in Bali.  Most people do not see; I can tell by watching them.  Look how the sun comes through the trees.   Do you feel the energy?"  I nodded. I felt it strongly.  "You have to see Bali in the "golden hour".  You have to really see".  Then he showed me gorgeous photos he had taken that morning. Then he said, "Go get a cup of coffee and then just walk around the grounds and look, really take your time."
     I did just that. I walked slowly and took it in. I crossed a bridge, and saw a young man painting a landscape off by himself.  I went directly to him, and he asked me to sit and talk with him while he painted.  He looked to be in his mid 20s.  He wanted me to tell him what I thought about the Balinese people, about Bali, about what I was doing there, about music.  He just wanted me to talk.  Then he started opening up.  He talked about the "middle way", about finding common ground.  I told him my concerns about going back home and the discord I have felt.  He asked me, rhetorically, how cultures could find common ground in order to relate.  I asked him if the Balinese were as nice as they came across.  He talked to me about how they felt a need to say things or do things they did not want to say or do in order to be polite. (I know about that, coming from Texas).  He spoke of the need for honesty that starts from the feelings of the heart, which are communicated with the words we speak, and followed up by the things we do. We agreed that there must not be a disconnect in order to really connect.   That led us to talk about different perspectives, and again, how to find a "middle way".   I asked him if all the tourists bothered him in Ubud.  He said, "No, it bothers some people but not me.  I have that peace inside of me and can find it all the time."
     He met Barrack Obama when he was here a few weeks ago.  This young man said that he talked with him at length.  His friend, who worked at the museum,  had walked over at this point and confirmed that this was true.  I told him how I loved Barrack, and he said, "Yes, he is a good man, but he is just a man".  I asked this young man his name. He smiled and said, "Donald Trump"!  I said, "Don't say that; I don't like Donald Trump!"  He said, "Why not? He is just a man". I showed my disgust, and he just smiled.  Then I asked if he met Michelle, and his face lit up and he smiled broadly and said, "Now, she is a very powerful woman."  It turns out, this young man's name is Donald, and although he was teasing me earlier, I know he was trying to send a message.  Then he put up his paints and said," Let's go make music."
     So we went to an outdoor stage nearby to their full gamelan, and he proceeded to give me a private lesson on the notes of the instrument, how the parts fit together, how the sounds interconnected with each other and how the quality of tone had to match that of the spirit and nature around it.  We sat with the accompanying drum, the kendang, and he showed me the developing patterns and how they too, connect together.  He spoke about how too much of our modern music is meant to stop us from listening and creates the destruction of this triangle of unity: spirit, humans, and nature.  He taught me until almost dark and then invited me to finish the conversation with tea.  I knew that that was the Bali politeness and declined, but I walked away from there, feeling awed that these two men led me to see my own culture,and theirs, in a whole new perspective.

Gamelon Lesson Pavilion

Bridge at ARMA

     The next day, I wanted to go to the mask and shadow puppet museum in a nearby town.  My arrangements with a local motorbike driver fell through at the last minute, so I walked to find a new driver.  When I rounded the corner, I ran into Agoos, a taxi driver with whom I had had a conversation in my earlier time in Ubud and had written about in a previous blog.  He offered to take me to the museum and then to walk with me and tell me about what I was seeing.  I thought that would be a great idea.  He ended up talking about his Hindu religion, the various rituals, the deeper meaning of the puppets and masks.  He showed me how the dalang (puppeteer) would do the puppets and play the music at the same time.  He showed me the difference in carving styles between Java and Bali.  Then he spoke about Taksu, an awakened spiritual  energy.  He said that whenever you do arts, you must do it with Taksu or it means absolutely nothing and will not be beautiful.  I know what this feels like when I play music or make art in this way.  There is nothing like it.  I think Taksu is something to strive for in everything we do.
     Sometimes we get messages in our hearts concerning what we must do or where we must go.  I have gotten it through being open with people.  All of these men were speaking to me in profound ways.  I am so grateful I was there to hear them.  I am going back to America now with new perspective.  It is still an American's perspective because I am very much an American and proud to be one, but I am not proud of the direction in which America has been going.  I think that we all need to practice Taksu and find a "middle way".    What is this "middle way"?  I personally think that it is love and this unity of humans, nature, and spirit.  In fact, I have no doubt in my mind that this is it.  Please don't ask me what my next plan is.  That does not really matter.  But I will talk to you about finding this "middle way."  I am curious to go on this journey and see where it leads us.  The journey is not mine, it is ours.  I'll blog again...when this unity starts to have direction.  Hopefully sooner than later.