Chapter 87

           

           Nowmydaysaredividedintonaturalthirds.IspendmymorningswithWayanathershop,laughingandeating.IspendmyafternoonswithKetutthemedicineman,talkinganddrinkingcoffee.Ispendmyeveningsinmylovelygarden,eitherhangingoutbymyselfandreadingabook,orsometimestalkingwithYudhi,whocomesovertoplayhisguitar.Everymorning,Imeditatewhilethesuncomesupoverthericefields,andbeforebedtimeIspeaktomyfourspiritbrothersandaskthemtowatchovermewhileIsleep.

           I’vebeenhereonlyafewweeksandIfeelarathermission-accomplishedsensationalready.ThetaskinIndonesiawastosearchforbalance,butIdon’tfeellikeI’msearchingforanythinganymorebecausethebalancehassomehownaturallycomeintoplace.It’snotthatI’mbecomingBalinese(nomorethanIeverbecameItalianorIndian)butonlythis-Icanfeelmyownpeace,andIlovetheswingofmydaysbetweeneasefuldevotionalpracticesandthepleasuresofbeautifullandscape,dearfriendsandgoodfood.I’vebeenprayingalotlately,comfortablyandfrequently.Mostofthetime,IfindthatIwanttopraywhenI’monmybicycle,ridinghomefromKetut’shousethroughthemonkeyforestandthericeterracesintheduskylateafternoons.Ipray,ofcourse,nottobehitbyanotherbus,orjumpedbyamonkeyorbitbyadog,butthat’sjustsuperfluous;mostofmyprayersareexpressionsofsheergratitudeforthefullnessofmycontentment.Ihaveneverfeltlessburdenedbymyselforbytheworld.

           IkeeprememberingoneofmyGuru’steachingsabouthappiness.

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