I have traded houses with a friend temporarily…my Sayan Jungalow for her home 5 minutes from central Ubud in Bali. I wanted to taste community again, she peace. We both got what we wanted, me in spades! I’ve been writing happily on my sunny terrace surrounded by the sounds of Balinese village life humming all around. Until last night…when at 3am I was woken by the sounds of chopping. I’d heard that Balinese men rise early to begin preparation of lawar before Galungan, but 3am? Yes, apparently so. One of Bali’s biggest holidays begins tomorrow, in celebration of ancestral spirits who come this time of year to visit. And so, I replaced the irritation I felt at being woken early morning with a sense of contentment, a knowing that the sounds of chopping just outside my bedroom window, represented the men of my newly adopted “village” preparing a feast, taking care of us, continuing the thread of hundreds of years of tradition…It was then that I remembered the curious squealing of a pig I heard in their yard yesterday…

And so, this is village life.

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I am reading Lawrence Durrell’s book “Spirit of Place”. And it has got me thinking. (: Durrell, like myself, lived in places in order to intuit their heartbeat and considered himself more of a foreign residence writer than a travel writer.

About capturing the essence of place, Durrell writes,
The great thing is to…travel with the eyes of the spirit wide open, and not too much factual information. To tune in, without reverence, idly — but with real inward attention…in so doing you can extract the essence of a place once you know how. If you just get as still as a needle, you’ll be there….

…travel becomes a sort of science of intuitions which is of the greatest importance to everyone — but most of all to the artist who is always looking for nourishing soils, in which to put down roots and retreat. Everyone finds his own ‘correspondences’ in this way — landscapes where you suddenly feel bounding with ideas, and others where half your soul falls asleep…Writers each seem to have a personal landscape of the heart which beckons them.

I love the way Durrell takes me there. Take this description about Egypt for example:
If you sit quite still in the landscape-diviner’s pose — why, the whole rhythm of ancient Egypt rises up from the damp cold sand. You can hear its very pulse tick. Nothing is strange to you at such moments — the old temples with their death-cults, the hieroglyphs, the long slow whirl of the brown Nile among the palm-fringed islets, the crocodiles and snakes. It is palpably just as it was when the High Priest of Ammon initiated Alexander into the mysteries. ….of course you cannot arrange to be initiated through a travel agency! You would have to reside and work your way in through the ancient crust – a tough one – of daily life. And how different is the rhythm of Egypt to that of Greece! 


On Greece,
Just try for a moment sitting on the great stone omphalos, the navel of the ancient Greek world, at Delphi. Don’t ask mental qustions, but relax and empty your mind. It lies, this strange amphora-shaped object, in an overgrown field above the temple. Everything is blue and smells of sage. The marbles dazzle down below you. There are two eagles moving softly softly on the sky, like distant boats rowing across an immense violet lake.

Don’t you love this???? I am so there.

And finally, Durrell on Scotland,
…the poetry, and the poverty and naked joyous insouciance of mountain life…Clearly she is a queenly country and a wild mountainous mate for poets.

Why do you write about Place? For me it’s about cultivating recognition of our common web of humanity. For it is through sharing our stories that I believe peace is possible.

Join us October 1-6, 2010 for Write and Sell That Book Now! An amazing adventure in Bali where you will learn how to get your book out of your head and out into the world! http://www.oneworldretreats.com/ubud_bali_yoga_retreat_robin_joanna.php

Robin in Ubud, Bali

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When I recently posted on Facebook that it is easier today than ever before to become a published author, a friend disagreed. She wrote, “It might be more possible to get something out there more easily nowadays. The problem is getting people to know about it, getting a store to carry it (chains won’t), or getting it to show up prominently in digital stores. How many top selling authors are self published? I can’t think of 1.”

I asked Joanna Penn of www.thecreativepenn.com to respond to my friend’s email.

“In terms of top selling authors who are self-published, it is interesting how many ‘famous’ books started off as self-published before they got picked up by publishers (who love a winner!), ” she wrote. ” If they hadn’t self-published in the first place, they likely would never have been published. Self-publishing is now a way to make an impact and help you get a book deal (or can be rewarding in itself for some categories of books).

Here are some examples-
Julia Cameron self published “the Artist’s Way” which was then picked up by Putnam and has now sold millions of copies.
Christopher Paolini’s Eragon was published and hawked by his parents.
Richard Bolles “What Colour is Your Parachute” was self-published for several years before being traditionally published.
Deepak Chopra self-published before being picked up by trad pub.
Beatrix Potter self published The Tale of Peter Rabbit before a publisher saw the potential…. and so it goes on….
John Kremer, who wrote ‘1001 ways to market your books’ has a self-publishing hall of fame if you want to see a whole list -http://www.bookmarket.com/selfpublish

Alan Rinzler, a legendary editor and publishing consultant had this essay on his blog last week – “How self publishing can lead to a real book deal”
http://www.alanrinzler.com/blog/2010/03/11/how-self-publishing-can-lead-to-a-real-book-deal/
about how publishers desperately want people who can sell themselves, and a successful self-pub book can really get you started.

In terms of marketing leading to book sales, look at Gary Vaynerchuk who built a video blog audience and then got a book deal, and bloggers like Leo Babauta of “The Power of Less” from Zen Habits.com and Christian Lander of “Stuff White People Like”. These guys got book deals off the back of self-publishing their articles daily on their blogs, gathering an audience and building a platform. This is another way to go about it.

Basically, if you combine self-publishing (or indeed any publishing) with effective marketing through blogging, social networking, video and other methods, then you will make an impact on a market. It’s easy for anyone to put something out there, but self-publishers who know what they are doing can sell their books and stand a better chance of attracting a publishing deal than someone who faces years of manuscript rejection and has no marketing practice.”

So there you have it. If you’d like to learn how to pull your manuscript from the bottom of the slush pile and place it under the nose of an interested publisher — or skip the publisher altogether and get your book into the hands of thousands of readers, join us in Bali Oct. 1-6, 2010 for “Write and Sell Your Book Now!”

A $300 Early Bird discount can be yours if you register before April 15, 2010.

http://www.oneworldretreats.com/ubud_bali_yoga_retreat_robin_Joanna.php

See you in Bali in October.

Robin

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This workshop will take place the week before the Annual Ubud Writers Festival – not to be missed.

The publishing world, in case you have not yet heard, has changed.

The time has never been better, riper, more promising for story tellers to get their tales out of their heads and into the hands of readers fast. And to make money doing so. The old publishing paradigm dinosaur is gone. Poof. Like that.

I for one say, “Thank God”.

The old way: Months and months to find an agent. Followed by more months seeking a publisher. Followed by 2 years (If you are one of the 1% chosen for publication) of line edits, book design, back and forth between editor and writer – all before ever (if ever) seeing your book in print. Followed by years of having to hit the road on your own dime to sell your own books from the trunk of your car, for a few dollars per book.

The publishing bottleneck that has developed over the past 20 years is enough to intimidate many authors from even getting started.

No more.  There is a new way.

Join us in Ubud, Bali at the “Write and Sell That Book!” workshop October 1-6, 2010 – one week before the Annual Ubud Writers Festival – and together we will learn how to use the new tools available to write our books, to promote and sell them.

Details : http://www.oneworldretreats.com/ubud_bali_yoga_retreat_robin_Joanna.php

And just in case you’re worried that all that new technological know how will give you a headache, relax. You won’t have to do anything but sit back soaking up the infamous Balinese atmosphere while Joanna Penn www.thecreativepenn shows you everything you need to know to take your place in what is rapidly developing into a new era for authors.

We’ll stay at the luxurious Kumara Sakti Resort www.oneworldretreats.com

located in a stunningly beautiful jungle valley just outside the artist center of Ubud, Bali – home of the Love chapter in the bestselling “Eat, Pray, Love”. You’ll get a free 1 1/2 hour herbal massage, see a Balinese dance at a local temple, and take a stroll through a breathtaking terraced rice paddy for a luncheon at my favorite Ubud restaurant – Sari Organik.

We’re keeping the class size small at 20 students – 5  reserved for locales.

In case you’re not convinced about the changes unfolding in the world of publishing, here are predictions for authors for 2010-2020 in an article by Jane Friedman.

http://blog.writersdigest.com/norules/2010/01/11/WhatDoesFutureHoldForWritersPredictionsFor20102020.aspx

Or you can just read my excerpts from the article below:

“Predictions are common as a new year begins–especially a new decade. And the publishing industry invites more speculation than ever, given the tremendous transformation underway.

The rise of the independent, as I expect more individual authors and small presses will be able to take advantage of the digital format to sell direct to the consumer, make a healthy living doing so and take advantage of the platform to provide more (and more unfiltered) coverage of a broader range of content, including niche and emerging topics. Just as apps have liberated bedroom coders, so too will the preponderance of ways to connect directly with readers, build a healthy fan base and enjoy higher profit margins doing so compel legions of aspiring authors to finally put pen (or is that stylus?) to (digital) paper and permanently blur the lines between amateurs and professionals. While they’ll still have a place in the industry, I suspect by that point, most agents will be, shall we say, a good less relevant than they’ve become accustomed to in the past.

—Scott Steinberg, DigitalTrends.com

Long-form text-only narrative will continue to thrive as it has since cavemen gathered around the fire, just as painting has thrived since Lascaux. The advent of more and richer iterations of multimodal entertainment and edification will not kill off others (either multi or single mode) in the future, just as they did not in the past, though they certainly will kill businesses with an overdeveloped sense of entitlement based on past success in a given mode.

—Richard Nash, publisher

Digital First/Print Maybe Deals Will Give Authors Leverage: Not only will traditional publishers enter into more ebook-first deals, but more digital publishing houses will emerge, across all genres. Because the latter will naturally start from a position of higher royalties, traditional publishers will have to up the ante as well. Right now, the trend is to decrease digital royalties, but when publishers ask authors to take new kinds of risks, publishers have to be willing to make it worthwhile for the author. Especially in a world where playing field is increasingly level.

—Kassia Krozser, Booksquare blogger

Trend: [Publishers] will continue to focus more resources on fewer titles, using their strengths as large-scale marketers and distributors to publish brand-names. Title count at the largest houses could drop by as much as fifty percent over the next five years. Counter trend: At the same time, self-publishing (including partnerships like the one announced recently between Author Solutions and Harlequin) will grow exponentially.

Trend: Title reduction will be most significant for new talent, with the largest houses entrusting support of new authors to a handful of editorial imprints. The editors at those imprints-editors with proven ability to choose new material successfully-will increase in value. Counter trend: Editors whose job is to handle existing talent will find their roles diminished.

Trend: As the initial sale becomes less of the focus for authors, the agent of the future will become more of a business manager who handles every aspect of an author’s career, overseeing the author’s online presence, developing sources of revenue outside of book sales such as workshops and lecture tours, and acting as the author’s publicist in between publications. Counter trend: Publishers will create free-standing departments whose services can be purchased a la carte by authors, whether that author is self-published or published by a competitor who doesn’t offer such services.
—Bob Miller, HarperStudio

Thanks to digital, there is no minimum length for a book anymore. Ebooks that are too short to be print books will become a real factor in ebook sales, opening up new opportunities for publishers but even more for authors. Short fiction is already well established in the romance genre and some major publishers have broken out stories from anthologies as separate items to be sold on Kindle. In 2010, authors and agents will discover that shorter-than-a-book works can be the subject of useful experimentation and learning through electronic publishing and, by the end of the year, it will become a frequently-employed device. Periodical media (newspapers and magazines) will also see this paid delivery mechanism as an alternative worth experimentation for them as well. After all, if a big publisher can unbundle a short story anthology to sell the individual stories as Kindle editons, why couldn’t The New Yorker sell the short fiction it publishes that way as well? This concept has been tipped by the announcement in 2009 than the web site Daily Beast will be delivering shorter books in a timely manner through electronic distribution.

—Mike Shatzkin, publishing futurist”

So ready to write your book and get it out into the world? Join us in Ubud, Bali the week before the Annual Ubud Writers Festival for all the tools you’ll need to get your book written, published and in the hands of as many readers as possible, fast, and actually earn money doing it.

Snag one of the 20 spots available asap and we’ll see you in Bali in October!

http://www.oneworldretreats.com/ubud_bali_yoga_retreat_robin_Joanna.php

Robin

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I first heard this story over 15 years ago, and it still gets me every time. Enjoy

-Author unknown.

A vacationing American businessman standing on the pier of a quaint coastal fishing village in southern Mexico watched as a small boat with just one young Mexican fisherman pulled into the dock. Inside the small boat were several large yellow fin tuna. Enjoying the warmth of the early afternoon sun, the American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish.

“How long did it take you to catch them?” the American casually asked.

“Oh, a few hours,” the Mexican fisherman replied.

“Why don’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?” the American businessman then asked.

The Mexican warmly replied, “With this I have more than enough to support my family’s needs.”

The businessman then became serious, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?”

Responding with a smile, the Mexican fisherman answered, “I sleep late, play with my children, watch ballgames, and take siesta with my wife. Sometimes in the evenings I take a stroll into the village to see my friends, play the guitar, sing a few songs…”

The American businessman impatiently interrupted, “Look, I have an MBA from Harvard, and I can help you to be more profitable. You can start by fishing several hours longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra money, you can buy a bigger boat. With the additional income that larger boat will bring, before long you can buy a second boat, then a third one, and so on, until you have an entire fleet of fishing boats.”

Proud of his own sharp thinking, he excitedly elaborated a grand scheme which could bring even bigger profits, “Then, instead of selling your catch to a middleman you’ll be able to sell your fish directly to the processor, or even open your own cannery. Eventually, you could control the product, processing and distribution. You could leave this tiny coastal village and move to Mexico City, or possibly even Los Angeles or New York City, where you could even further expand your enterprise.”

Having never thought of such things, the Mexican fisherman asked, “But how long will all this take?”

After a rapid mental calculation, the Harvard MBA pronounced, “Probably about 15-20 years, maybe less if you work really hard.”

“And then what, señor?” asked the fisherman.

“Why, that’s the best part!” answered the businessman with a laugh. “When the time is right, you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions.”

“Millions? Really? What would I do with it all?” asked the young fisherman in disbelief.

The businessman boasted, “Then you could happily retire with all the money you’ve made. You could move to a quaint coastal fishing village where you could sleep late, play with your grandchildren, watch ballgames, and take siesta with your wife. You could stroll to the village in the evenings where you could play the guitar and sing with your friends all you want.”

Well, folks, that’s exactly the point of the book I am writing about my search for a new home, a new country, a new way of being. There IS a different way to do your life and stepping off the hamster wheel is one them.

Sit quietly and figure out what you REALLY REALLY want. That’s the first most important step to achieving the life of your dreams.

Stay tuned…I’ll be posting excerpts from the book I am writing in this column.

Much love and clarity to you all.

Robin meditating, strolling through rice paddies, taking siestas, meeting with friends, and ok… writing my ass off in Bali. (and trying to figure out how to make even that flow smoothly. Suggestions anyone?)

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I woke up this morning before sunrise, heart pounding, my breathing rapid and shallow, and stress like poison spreading down my back and into my shoulders. I leapt out of bed – so much to do! Meditate, journal, write Brazil chapter of book, plan October writing workshop, shop for food at the organic market, hang out with friends, call son, run my accommodations business (bookings, call assistant, update advertisements, etc.), write blog, update website, manage my finances…

I ran around doing a little of this, a little of that, my mind a misfiring mishmash of Should Do’s and Which One First?

I sat on the edge of a chair to hurriedly scarf down a bowl of oatmeal while simultaneously reading emails before I would run off to the organic market, and that’s when I read this and stopped.

“Best New Year’s Resolution? A ‘Stop Doing’ List”
by Jim Collins
http://ow.ly/Uivc

…It is the discipline to discard what does not fit — to cut out what might have already cost days or even years of effort — that distinguishes the truly exceptional artist and marks the ideal piece of work, be it a symphony, a novel, a painting, a company or, most important of all, a life.

This would apply to the book, I think to myself, that I am writing about my search for a country – the Leaning Towers of Pisa stacks of notes which follow me around the world, because there is just SO much information, so many stories…What can be cut out?

What is left, will be the story.

“…Suppose you woke up tomorrow,” Collins says, “and received two phone calls. The first phone call tells you that you have inherited $20 million, no strings attached. The second tells you that you have an incurable and terminal disease, and you have no more than 10 years to live. What would you do differently, and, in particular, what would you stop doing?

He suggests drawing three circles that encapsulate the following qualifiers.

1) What are you deeply passionate about?
2) What are you are genetically encoded for — what activities do you feel just “made to do”?

3) What makes economic sense — what can you make a living at?

Assess which of your activities fall within these circles. Which overlap. Drop all activities that fall outside the circles and emphasize those activities which overlap all 3 circles.

Wait, you mean I can pare down my To Do list instead of adding to it?

Almost immediately I begin to relax.

What would I do differently if I got those two phone calls?

For starters, I’d start breathing again. I would put on the brakes and flip off the ignition while I reassess.

What am I passionate about?
Travel, story telling, connecting people across cultures, learning, friends, community, family, love, spiritual evolution.


What am I genetically encoded for ?— what activities do I feel just “made to do”?
See above.


What can I make a living at?
Now there’s a tricky one. So far the accommodations business and the workshop business support me financially. But to gain credibility and maintain and grow both, I need to write a book. And so the book moves back up to the top of my To Do list.

What will I cut out in 2010?
1. Daily facebook jabberwocky.
2. Hanging out with people who do not advance my growth and love factor.
3. Doing administrative stuff which I hate and am bad at. Hire it out.Things like website maintenance, promotion, editing, home maintenance, finances, cooking and cleaning, workshop promotion and planning, travel planning, bill paying.
4. The accommodations business in Turkey…. Do I have the courage to cut out the one thing that is currently putting money in my bank account? The thing that gobble, gobble, gobbles up so much time?

What are the things that I am passionate about, that I feel I was put here to do, and that will earn a living?

Whadaya know? My list shrinks from pages and pages of scrawlings to these 4:
1. Telling stories – in books, articles, videos and live.
2. Facilitating writing workshops around the world.
3. Time with family and friends and time in my life and space in my heart for a lover. (True, time with family, friends and the lover piece are not money makers, but… wait a minute…If I just found out I inherited 20 million, isn’t the “what makes economic sense?” question irrelevant?)
4. Continue maintaining my health and fitness with daily movement, yoga alternated with weight lifting and dance. With healthy food and more sleep and daily meditation. Because without my health nothing else is possible.

What would your list of To Do’s look like if you received those 2 phone calls?

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I was in the Delta grocery store in Ubud, Bali today when the rains began. Thunderously loud on the tin roof, with water leaks – and I don’t mean drip, drip, I mean streams of water, coming into the refrigerator case, over the isle of fresh fruit and coconut juice, well, everywhere. I slipped on a small water puddle on the floor and being American I pointed it out to one of the workers, expecting he would hurriedly mop it up. He shrugged and did not move. I had to laugh at myself. Something refreshing about being in a place where everything doesn’t always work as expected. Later, I was walking home through the rice paddies when I noticed a long thin green snake lying perpendicular across the narrow path. I’ve heard it’s the small green ones that are most poisonous and so I stamped my feet, dropped my helmet with a loud thud, hoping to scare it off. It too did not move…I noticed it had a frog in its jaws. And so seeing he was preoccupied, I picked up one foot to gingerly step over him. The snake (which btw looked just like a long leaf on a palm frond,) dropped the frog and raised his head to look at me, so I jumped back to wait until he had slithered away into the tall grass.

Just another day in Paradise.

Hope your holidays are joyous. Love, love, Robin

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First a note:
I returned to Bali one month ago. Oneworld Accommodations in Istanbul is now running full steam thanks to my on-the-ground partner Elif and a host of other supportive friends. I hightailed it out of Istanbul end of September to attend the Annual Ubud, Bali Writers’ Festival in October. My plan now is 6 months of intense writing during which I will birth a book, 9 years in gestation. Stay tuned for the “Unleash the Book Within” workshop I am putting together, to be held in Ubud, Bali the first week of October 2010.

For today, here’s your first course in the Bali buffet, fall 2009. Lots of love to you all, Robin.

FOOD OF THE GODDESSES

One of the best things about living in Bali is the food. Food that is unprocessed, healthy, whole, organic, delicious, and cheap. Indeed, as I sit here typing, a few feet away on a palm tree hang at least a dozen coconuts, ripe for the picking ($1 if I ask Made to cut one down for me and hatchet it open in my kitchen), and to my left there are a bunch of Alice in Wonderland sized papayas dripping from a tree.

I spent my first two weeks in Bali stoking up on Indonesian food. Nasi goreng, soto ayam, gado gado. And then that was enough, and I was ready to start cooking. This is no small thing as I haven’t cooked except for the rare occasion in over 10 years. And I certainly don’t need to as warung food runs about $1 per plate and is available on every corner.

I must be nesting and manifesting a partner or dinner party friends because I am lovingly choosing items at the Organic Market twice per week, filling my refrigerator with enough for a family of 4, and cooking day after day. For me.

Dishes like banana pancakes topped with pure honey collected in the Sumbawa tropical forests from large cones found only in the highest trees. How can I best describe this sweet nectar of the Gods? Let’s just say it’s so good that I sometimes take sips directly from the jar.

Some of the other dishes I’ve whipped up for myself the past 3 days: A smoothie this morning blended with a homemade ginger/lemon/guava/soda drink purchased at the Organic Market, a splash of Jamu (a turmeric drink made by the Balinese for good health and long life), to which I added fresh cut papaya and mango, a dollop of yogurt, a teaspoon of Ashitaba (an green organic herbal powder containing vitamins and minerals too many to mention) and a teaspoon of Spirulina. A few ice cubes, blended for 2 minutes, and I’m telling you…this was one exotic creamy drink that would have elicited oohs and ahhs at any 5 star restaurant.

Yesterday’s breakfast was a bowl of fresh pineapple and banana slices topped with Bali Buddha’s crunchy, palm-sugar sweetened homemade granola (the only one better than my own) topped with a healthy spoonful of yogurt, and moistened with almond milk – the almond milk pressed fresh at Bali Buddha and delivered to me in a corked glass bottle that I will return for a refill when it is empty.

And breakfast the day before yesterday? A honey-sweetened, moist whole wheat mulberry muffin from Bali Buddha Bakery, and 3 eggs, which I whipped and folded over chopped yellow and red peppers, avocado, spinach leaves, onion, garlic and rosemary (the latter brought from Turkey).

Dinner: fresh tuna steak ($2 at Bintang market) seared medium rare with Balinese sea salt, pepper, and dribbled with sesame oil, served atop a plate full of organic greens, topped with sliced cucumbers that I had marinated in a sauce I prepared containing (all fresh & organic of course) lemon grass, garlic, chili peppers, num pla (fish) sauce, sesame oil, and mint leaves.

Dinner day before yesterday: Thai chicken soup made with minced lemon grass, tiny red peppers chopped fine, cilantro, lime juice, lime leaves (which Wayan brought me from her garden), curry, and more, with a side of organic red rice, and a plateful of assorted organic greens topped with Juice Ja’s amazing homemade ginger sesame dressing.

This afternoon, Wayan got out her trusty hatchet and hacked open a green coconut, poured the clear liquid into a large wine glass which I then gulped heartily snacking on the delectable coconut meat throughout the afternoon.

You get the idea. There’s been a self-love orgy going down in my Junglelow.

But then…
Last night, driving home on Champuan Road, I found myself inexplicably turning into the Bintang Market parking lot. I walked in and zombie-like (arms held straight out in front – OK, that part I made up) marched straight for the refrigerator case, where I pulled out a half pound carton of imported Hagaan Dazs Macademia Nut Brittle ice cream, and paid a whopping 100,000 rupiah note ($10) for, and which I disposed of at home, half that very night, creamy spoonful by creamy spoonful into one very happy mouth.

Yep.

A whole lot of good, fresh, wholesome mixed with a little bit of bad makes for one very good life.

Dinner party anyone?

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Written yesterday, July 28, 2009

ISTANBUL – I arrived at the Grand Bazaar today bearing a gift for a shopkeeper named Mehmet. We have a mutual friend, Nyoman in Ubud, Bali from whence I have recently returned. Mehmet had requested I bring him some of Nyoman’s coffee. And so I have, along with a pile of costume jewelry, all of it long in need of repair.

But how to find Mehmet’s jewelry shop out of the thousands in the world’s largest and oldest shopping mall? When my Turkish phone died in Bali so did the numbers of many friends including Mehmet’s. I called the Kybele Hotel where Ali Baba had once told me he knew Mehmet. He was on vacation, but the boy who answered the phone said, “I know Mehmet. I can tell you where he is.” “Are you sure? There must be thousands of Mehmet’s in the Grand Bazaar,” I said. “The jeweler right? He’s in the old part . Just ask for Mehmet.”

Never ceases to amaze me how the world shrinks as my travels span greater distances and time. Istanbul is a city of 20 million and the Grand Bazaar has more than 5,000 shops. One phone call and someone knows exactly where to find Mehmet.

What I think is going to be a quick drop off, an hour most – well, right. I am in Turkey where there is no such thing as a quick drop off of anything. I had planned on the requisite cup of tea before embarking on my next errand – to the PTT delivery company who was holding 3 boxes I’d shipped from Bali. But no, one hour slipped into two and then three as we sat in the back of the shop at Mehmet’s desk surrounded by dimly lit jewelry cases with glittering baubles from Nepal and Africa and Brazil. Although Mehmet rarely smiles, I could swear I saw his mouth turn up slightly when I handed over the freshly roasted coffee beans from Nyoman in Ubud, Bali. He insisted on paying.

Over the ensuing three hours, he scrutinized each piece of my broken jewelry under a light, called his shop boy and sent him off with a flurry of Turkish words. Later the shop boy would return with the like-new earring or necklace and Mehmet would hand him the next piece with instructions and we would go back to our tea and he his cigarettes. He told me about the money he has made, the customers he has had, the places he has lived, the women he has loved. And we waited.

A woman with wild blonde hair and tight jeans and heels came into the shop and looked unblinkingly at a ruby beaded set of earrings even after Mehmet told her the price was one eight hundred. I think that’s a soft way of saying one thousand eight hundred dollars. When he asked where she was from she answered Lebanon.

All this patience was making me shaky and light headed, and so I crossed the “street” to the Bedestan Cafe and Patisserie where I bit into pillow soft manti swimming in buttery yogurt. Ah… Manti – the Turkish version of spinach and cheese stuffed ravioli. I noted the larger than life portrait of Ataturk, sitting legs crossed in a chair staring down at me sternly as if to say, “If you don’t like my country, well you can just get out!” There was smoky oriental music playing. Red cushions. Dust laden light shafts through the high windows of the ancient brick arched rafters above. Huge crimson Turkish flag draped from the ceiling.

At the table next to me there were four women, 3 generations, Grandma, mom, young adult woman, and adolescent girl. They switched easily back and forth between Turkish and English.

When I finished eating, I looked up at Ataturk again, and I could swear his eyes had softened. Dapper in white pants, socks, white shoes, dark smoking jacket, the end of his red tie tucked into his while shirt. A white hanky peeking from his chest pocket. Cigarette dangling from extended hand.

Speaking of cigarettes, Turkey hardly seems like Turkey since they sewed up the last loophole on the indoor smoking ban last week. Since then, cafes have emptied out into the streets, patrons at tables and chairs on every visible piece of outdoor concrete, eating and puffing away.

Back in Mehmet’s shop, I sit down again and breathe slowly. Relax. A small muscle twitches in my left arm. This is what I am doing now. This is Turkey. Yavash, yavash.

Three hours after I arrived… “Another tea?” Mehmet says. “Well, I was thinking I’d better get going to the PTT,” I say, pulling out the receipts to show him the address. “It closes in an hour.” “Forget it,” he says. “You’ll never make it. You can go tomorrow.” Why of course. I sit back down. We drink another tea. He smokes another cigarette.

I pack the last necklace into a plastic bag. He tallies it up – 11 pieces of jewelry repaired for 44 lira, approximately $30. And he steps outside his shop to show me the way out through the maze of streets in the bazaar. We shake hands, look into each other’s eyes, and part ways. Business completed Turkish style. He has done me a big favor, and by charging me a miniscule amount of money for a load of work, he thinks he has hidden his generosity from me.

I jump onto the tram going the direction of the Topkapi stop where I’ve been told the PTT Air Delivery Depot is. It is almost 4:30. And I probably won’t make it but as long as I’m this close, I’m going to try. Elif texts me to tell me that I have another hour. When I first moved here, Elif held my hand in all these matters, but now, like a mother cat, she nudges me out of the box on my own.

I get off at the Topkapi stop, whereupon I begin playing the “ask directions game”. When lost in Turkey, you find the most alert looking person and say “(fill in the blank here)nerede?” That person then says something incomprehensible and points his finger. You say, “Tey shey kular” (thanks) and head briskly in the direction they pointed until you’re no longer sure, and so you stop to ask someone else. At least half of the people you ask, do not actually know, but they will give you an answer anyway. I suppose they figure they have a 25% chance of being correct (4 directions and all)…I’ve seen it countless times, even with each other. “I don’t know” are 3 words you will not hear in Turkey.

If you ask enough times, enough “right” directions mixed in with “wrong” ones will lead you to your desired destination. And part of the game is trying to decipher through body language and eye contact whether the person really knows. And so I ask a couple of guys as soon as I exit the tram station and they say something in Turkish and point north. I walk across an overpass for some distance, see nothing that looks like the Turkish version of a UPS warehouse, stop again to ask another guy. “Peh tey tey?” (PTT). The man points. I walk another 100 meters or so. Stop. Ask someone else, turn right, and walk through an underground bus terminal, ask again, turn right, walk back under the overpass, ask again, am told to continue going straight – I have now walked a complete half circle, and finally there it is in bright red letters: PTT.

I show my shipping receipts at a window and am directed to go to the other side of the building. Whereupon I whip out the receipts and my passport. He slowly looks them over and then sends me to window #8. I stand behind 2 guys speaking passionately in Turkish. I understand 3 words: worker, communist, and democratic. I wait. 10 minutes later the guy behind the window acknowledges me. He takes my receipts, looks through each one slowly, shuffles through the beat up boxes piled high on the shelves in the room, and returns to tell me to go to window #5. I go to window #5, and the boy brings out each box, slicing them open with a knife while 3 other employees look on to see what I have shipped to Turkey from Bali. They note the curtains all folded neatly in individual plastic wrappers, and I regret not taking them out. Will they think I am going to sell them and charge me a customs fee? They open one of the plastic bags and pull out the curtain. The air fills with the unseen but smelly mold spores of mosquito net shops in Bali. I cough and wave my hand in front of my nose. He quickly stuffs it back into the box and tapes it back together. Next window. A woman signs and stamps my receipts and tells me to go to window #1. Passport out again. He sends me to window #2 where I am told to write my name, phone number, and signature. Then I am told to take them back to window #8. That guy hands me another piece of paper and asks me to write my name, phone number, and signature again. Then he compares the two…now all of this would constitute a reasonable amount of security under ordinary circumstances, but I am the only customer left. He motions that I should return to window number 8 to retrieve my packages. They hand them over. They stack them up on the floor next to me. I say “Taxi var mah?” (Is there a taxi?) He leaves and returns with 2 men.

God bless Turkish men because they acknowledge that men are, on average, twice the size of women and refuse to let women carry heavy objects (different but equal is their M.O.). A man backs up a car up to the building and loads the boxes in back and directs me to climb into the back seat.

The call to prayer, non-syncopated rings out from all directions in the city, even on the car radio as he turns turns the key to the engine.
We pull onto the highway and I am tossed back and forth across the back seat like a pinball as he swerves and brakes from lane to lane, all along the highway to central Istanbul where I live.

From the narrow street where they park the car, temporarily blocking traffic, they carry the boxes from the car to my apartment and place them in the elevator. I thank them, give the man 20 lira, and take the elevator upstairs, drag the boxes into my apartment, look into the mirror and smile.
YES!!!

But then it occurs to me, that today has been dedicated entirely to the management and moving of my Stuff.

In the years following my divorce, I shuffled stuff between houses, gave it away, threw it away, and paid rent to store what was left, only to find myself collecting Stuff all over again in my next location.

True it is not the Stuff that most Americans collect – i.e the car and house in the suburbs and all that goes with them, but ethnic Stuff, mostly textiles and handmade items that remind me of the heart and soul of the places in which I have lived and loved. I not only buy Stuff I want to have with me, but gifts for others. What I can’t Stuff into my luggage, I ship. Or I convince family and friends to store the Stuff I leave behind.

Just last weekend my sister and brother-in-law in California drove to Oakland to retrieve an antique wedding chest I bought in Maine 20 years ago from a friend who had stored it but was now moving. It was one of the few pieces of furniture I hung onto. Little did I know I’d end up living one island over (Bali) from the island where the chest had originally come from (Java).

Turkish carpets – I purchased several when I first visited Turkey in 1997 and again in 2005, and had them shipped to San Francisco where I lived at that time. Only to bring them back to Turkey several years later when I moved to Istanbul.

How could I not buy the $4 per panel curtains in Bali last month to put in my apartments – major stuff also known as dwellings I’ve collected in Istanbul. And mosquito nets? Nary a one to be found in Turkey and they are on every corner in Indonesia. As I drag it all into my apartment, I wonder what I am doing. Because in the past 3 weeks, I have decided that Bali will be my winter home.

So why not just pack up and move to Bali now? Guess. It’s a matter of what to do with my Stuff. The weightiest being four apartments (I have a vacation rental business) and the furniture in them. And to think I lost sleep last night worrying about whether or not I should add a fifth. I am creating two homes – one in the city and one in the country – a dream come true, but one that requires doubling up on Stuff.

I wrote a friend on Facebook today, “Time is valuable. Every time I take on a new apartment in Istanbul, I resign a chunk of me here.”

Meanwhile, while I’ve been in Turkey managing my Stuff, friends in Bali are taking a Nityama tantra workshop and Italian friends have just disembarked from a sailing excursion off the coast of Croatia. I couldn’t be there for either because I had…well, you know…Stuff to take care of.

What would it feel like to be free? Without the weight of all my Stuff, what would hold me down? Who might I be without my Stuff?

I am a Bedouin with a stuff addiction.

OK, so here goes. Starting now I am going to begin weaning myself off Stuff. And I am going to replace it with something more light weight. Memories.

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“In Kalimantan Brothels Take Over Orangutans’ Habitat”

How could I not read The Bali Times today with a headline like that?

As it turns out, the mention of a brothel was a largely irrelevant bit in a story about commercial development in a national park and the subsequent disappearance of 600 orangutans. Serious stuff.

I admit, I was hoping for something more colorful.

I scanned the paper and I got it.

More headlines:

Egg-Laden Motorbike in Scrambled Calamity “Eminent chicken-egg wholesaler Ketut Tutek lost all 2,836 ovums aboard his motorcycle (converted perambulator) when his journey was arrested…by a rare wind sheer that sent him spralling into a acrenous pothole….’With the thrashing about of Tutek in the hole and the heat of the midday sun, it quickly turned into a large omelette that was enjoyed by all,’ he said.”

Villagers in Mass Rat Hunt – “Villagers in Kuwum…successfully killed over 1,000 rats in a mass hunt last Friday, an official said…”

Unpaid Bills Leave Bali Aussies Stranded

Bar in Brawl “A bar started a brawl on Wednesday night, street beggars reported. A local vagrant said she understood the bar was “upset at having become a venue for tattooed louts and was feeling unloved.”

Expat, Living Locally, Has Smug Thought

and my personal favorite:
Facebook Users Clinically Braindead: Study “”Researchers concluded that following a survey of postings on the popular website, there was ‘little or no brain activity,’ the peer-reviewed study conducted by Harvard University’s Internet Department for Social Sciences said. ‘It is clear that with the sheer volume of gibberish and drivel posted on Facebook, there is a vast chasm of intelligent thought,’ the study’s lead author, Dr. Hamish Barnicle, said.”

Vowing to read more newspapers,

Robin in Bali

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Haven’t even left yet and already I miss her.

A few photos from the Island of the Gods, 2008-2009.

More to come…
Yours truly, Robin

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Last night I came across Alexandra’s Goddess site. (www.mygoddesslife.com). I’d never been there before in spite of knowing Alexandra when she was in Bali. I went, curious as to how this Goddess, now living LA, had dealt publicly with the break up of her fiancee.

Amazingly enough Alexandra kept right on being a goddess, through the pain and the ensuing upheaval of her life. Her words gave me faith. She did tell the world they were splitting up and that she was in a sense “homeless”, and while not revealing the depth of her despair, she instead focused on the love she wanted to be and to draw into her life.

I latched onto her words – words of hope and trust in spite of complete lack of evidence in her life (and in mine right now!) – of what she really wanted.

From Alexandra’s blog (www.mygoddesslife.com):

Intimacy & Love
“The purpose of your intimacy is the passionate transmission of love, the rejuvenative healing of sexual energy, and the cultivation of heart through your mutual commitment to spiritual awakening.” David Dieda

Divine Women
“Women in her natural state is not dependent on man. She loves him. And, in love there is no dependence, no attachment, and no fear of losing. She is the passive, attracting principle. She is an irresistible living magnet. She draws to herself a right man to love her truly and divinely . There’s no choice in it.” Barry Long

This is the way I desire to move in the world!! We, as women, are powerful, we are divine and magnetic!! We have so much more power than we even know! And, we have so much more to give to our lovers!! We need to connect to this divine self, and be strong in our essence so that we can radiate love and attract the perfect partners and heal this planet. Divine love is possible! – -Alexandra.

After an hour of reading Alexandra’s blog, I checked my email. There in my in box was an email from, let’s call him, Peter. I opened it with trepidation. “Peter” was a dear friend in Bali, a man with whom something had been sparked, had begun, but then who had stopped communicating shortly before he left Bali, leaving me once again in a space of feeling abandoned, entirely unsure as to why things had ended.

I’d managed to heal my heart over the past three weeks, or had I simply begun to numb it again? I’ve tossed aside so many of the things I had adopted into my new life – little to no alcohol for example. Only healthy food, daily meditation, regular yoga classes, inspiring classes. To read his email was to risk reopening a wound.

I read it. And I was both saddened and relieved. “Peter” had karmic-ly closed his part of the deal and explained why he had stopped talking and apologized.

The heaviness I felt after reading the email was a sign that I had not processed the pain, but had simply tried to ignore it, numb it…and so as I went into my meditation this morning, I decided to be with it. The ache filled my chest and spilled out as I admitted to drawing into my life once again someone whom I had begun to open my heart to, who had then shut me out. Memories of a 20+ year marriage in which this was a recurring theme, swept over me. Through me.

The point of this blog is mirroring and attraction. Last night when I focused on Alexandra’s words of love, I drew “Peter’s” energy into my life – to make reparations to a friendship that had heated up and had then been snuffed out.

Then as I sat with the pain this morning (go through it Robin, not around it!), even before the sun was up, my phone beeped: “It is with heavy heart that I announce that “Robert” and I are splitting up”, “Ginger’s” sms said. “I am looking for a place to live …..”

That makes two now. My two closest girlfriends in Bali experiencing the ends of relationships. Hurt. Sadness. Grief.

Jeez this mirror thing is relentless and ruthless.

Whereupon I immediately sms’d “Ginger” back to tell her that she could stay in my house until I find renters…that we’d talk in an hour.

But then I had a moment of wondering, what is going on here? Is my reaction to “Ginger” what it seems on the surface? The desire to comfort a friend in pain? Or more? Is she to be the companion who is plugged into the healing arts – something I so need access to now, but have begun to feel cut off from? A practical, organized Virgo to help me wrap up the house before I leave, manage it while I am gone? A way to comfort myself by comforting her?

Or is it simpler than all that? Is “Ginger” a mirror of what I focused on this morning, the pain of a promising relationship gone sour? Am I bringing more into my life of what I wish to leave behind, i.e. sadness and the grief that comes with the sudden, inexplicable end of a relationship? Ensuing bitterness and feelings of rejection?

Jeez, I so hope not.

Then what do I want?

My Manifest-o
I am creating a life of peace. Joy. Beauty. Growth. Expansion. Love, Love, and more Love. Between friends, and with a soul mate. Financial prosperity. Freedom. Laughter. Understanding. Kindness and compassion. Exploration. Wonder.

I, Robin Sparks, personify beauty, light, radiance, inspiration, love, awakening, aware, alive, fit, vital, vigorous, wonder-filled, sexually vibrant, peaceful, receptive. Self-loving.

I am manifesting a loving companion with whom I am awakening into life. Growing together spiritually and experimenting with a depth of love unknown to either of us. Commitment. Communication that is open, fearless, kind, all-loving.

I am creating organization and order in my life and affairs as I prepare for my upcoming move from Bali to Istanbul: Debts paid off, bills organized and paid in a timely manner. Business run in a way that is beneficial to all and creates financial prosperity and freedom.

I am creative and productive: My experiences poured daily back out into the world from Spirit onto page and into a book that speaks to many. A speaking and teaching career.

I am committed to a regular spiritual practice that serves as a foundation, a spring board for growth and maturity and love to grow.

I nourish myself day to day, moment to moment with friends, events, food, experiences, quiet time, ideas and words of wisdom which nourish me.

What about “Ginger”? I have a new beautiful home. Of course I will share it with her. And rather than fear that I am drawing more of my shadow, I will act in complete trust that as I focus on what I want, that those are the qualities I will attract – and share with those whom I draw into my life.

And so, it is with a light trusting heart that I sign off on this journal this morning. And a heart full of gratitude,
Robin

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The Bali Spirit Festival is behind us now. Thank you Megan, Kadek, Charley, the more than 40 presenters (many who donated their time), the hundreds of volunteers, the festival attendees, and sponsors. The organizers of the festival took a financial hit of over $50,000, but the point of the festival was not money. It was about bringing together some of the world’s top yogis, sacred musicians, instructors, and gurus. It was about giving back to the community. About sharing the true essence of Balinese culture with a wider audience in order to positively impact the consciousness of people throughout the world.

On all of these accounts, the festival was an gargantuan success.

Sunday, the last day of the festival was a free day, open to families, and anyone who wanted to join, and join they did. Musicians to play together, yoginis to teach together, the community to co-mingle with visiting foreigners. It was the embodiment of Indonesia’s proclaimed mission – Unity in Diversity.

Sunday night jam session

[caption id="attachment_1048" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Akim Funk Buddha dancing while members of various bands jam together"][/caption]

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I waited outside the Kafe Restaurant with a small group of people for the shuttle to the Bali Spirit Festival ground. One of those waiting was a quiet dark man wearing a bowler hat and bright Afro ethnic clothing. I asked him if he was going to the Holistic Hip Hop class. He smiled, nodded affirmatively, and said nothing.

We arrived at the festival and as it turns out, the man was Akim Funk Buddha himself,

[caption id="attachment_1041" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Holistic Hip Hop"][/caption]a New York based performance artist and educator, who has performed at venues like Carnegie Hall, Lincoln Center, the Blue Note and was the instructor of the holistic hip hop workshop.

Akim Funk Buddha – gotta love that name.

Princess Lockeraroo, Akim’s DJ, spun James Browns’ “Talkin’ Loud and Sayin’ Nothing” and Akim was off, miming moves and motioning the students to imitate him. Soon, the lawn pavilion was filled with grooving hip hoppers of all ages – small children to senior citizens and all types- from hippies to suits from all over the world.

Any self-consciousness anyone may have felt initially, was quickly shelved as they learned moves like popping and waving. I’m pretty sure that there were more laughs logged per minute at the hip hop workshop than at the Laughter Yoga class.

Simultaneously, there was Kathak Dancing, Hatha Yoga, Prana Flow Yoga, Mark Whitwell’s “Practical Secrets of Intimacy & Love” yoga , a drumming and chanting circle, a Javanese Movement meditation, a Sacred Middle Eastern Traditions Music workshop, and a fire dancing class.

I found myself at the tarot card booth at the Dharma fair whereupon I learned that there are to be more challenges in my near future. OK, so bring it on (so I can get it over with). Everything happens fast here.

The headliner of the evening was Ganga Giri, a Didjeridu player from Australia who was joined by musicians from around the globe to pump out high-octave fusion.

The crowd pumped, jumped, leaped, and swayed for the next 3 hours. And when the lights went down, they moved to the Flava Lounge in Ubud, to continue to into the wee hours.

Suddenly it doesn’t matter that I missed the gypsy music festival in Istanbul this year. Because world music has come to Bali.

Bloggin’ from Bali
Robin Sparks
www.robinsparks.com

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SAHARADJA!!! I am SO a fan, as of last night. Truly amazing.

The performance was a reminder of what I love and miss most about Istanbul, Turkey (my home of 3 yrs) and my home of origin in Northern California – music that celebrates life, that is a way of life, that connects at a profound soul level, and that pulls us out of our chairs to dance and sing along. It was a sign that yes, even in quiet meditative, healing Ubud, the music is still alive.

How about an regular outdoor venue in Ubud where bands can play late into the night? Ideas anyone? Can we bring global music and dance to Ubud on a weekly or at least monthly basis? Then again, I might not ever leave Ubud if there was good live music on a regular basis. Hmmm…

Reverbnation.com has this to say about Sharadja: http://www.reverbnation.com/saharadja

SAHARADJA…
World Music with a Rock Attitude!!

It’s commonly acknowledged that we live in a global era marked by the increasing movement of people and the exchange of ideas across national borders. Now, perhaps more than ever, we have the opportunity to learn from different cultures in order to create a better world based on peace and the celebration of cultural difference. In this context, a new musical form known as world fusion has been gaining momentum, and at the forefront of this movement is Indonesian band SAHARADJA.

Based on the beautiful island of Bali, itself a centre of cross-cultural exchange for centuries, Saharadja comprises a group of highly innovative, world-class musicians dedicated to making music that captivates the soul and transports us to a place where the vision of global harmony becomes a reality. Saharadja push the limits of the world fusion form, combining an exciting array of musical inspirations – both traditional and contemporary – in unique and often unpredictable ways.

Whether its reworking Brahms with latin beats and salsa trumpet; combining tabla with electrc violin; mixing a traditional Balinese song with a Celtic reel and Arabic vocals; juxtaposing didgeridoo with trance beats; or bring the soothing sounds of an Indonesian gamelan orchestra into play with slick acid jazz trumpet, the result is nothing short of uplifting. This is freestyle world music that is played from the heart.

During the six years they have been together, Saharadja has toured South Africa, Australia, Malaysia, Singapore, Korea , China and they look forward to sharing their music with the rest of the world.

Saharadja. One band, many flavours. Says bandleader Rio Sidik:

‘We celebrate the best mix of world music styles. We are passionate about what we do and are wholly committed to it. We can only have world peace if we take the trouble to explore and understand different cultures. I don’t want to sound like Miss Universe but we truly wish to contribute to world peace!! It is one of my dreams to play for the world’s leaders and show them how with music all ethnic groups can come together as one.’

Eight member band, Saharadja, was formed in Bali in 2002 by acclaimed Indonesian trumpeter and vocalist Rio Sidik, and Western Australian violinist Sally Jo. Between them, this energetic group play a diverse range of instruments including the trumpet, electric violin, didgeridoo, sitar, djembe, sarod, darabuka, Irish tin whistle, congas, fretless bass, drums and a large assortment of percussion instruments. Inspired to a large degree by the free form of jazz improvisation, the band explores a range of different rythmic traditions deriving from India, the Middle East, continental Europe, South America, Africa, China, and the British Isles.

All of the band members are accomplished soloists trained in improvisation. On stage together as Saharadja, their various talents for music make for playful experimentation and high energy entertainment. Sally Jo explains the band’s name:

‘Saharadja is an acronym of the band members’ names because we are a team and each member is as important as the others. Every member is a soloist and is indispensable to the band. Saharadja also means King of the Desert – an explorer. A desert is enormous and can seem ‘never-ending’. This is how we see our music – exploration and unlimited sounds.’”

And what a treat it was!

Check back here later today as I’ll be blogging about two workshops I attended yesterday: Swami Shankardev’s Yoga Tantra and Ines Somellera’s Yoga & Writing Class.

Meanwhile, get your tickets for tonight’s live perfomances beginning with Mia Palencia of Malaysia, Ni Ketut Arini with Cudamni, Simak Dialog, and ending with Ganga Giri of Australia. See you there!

Robin Sparks, blogging from the 2009 Bali Spirit Festival

Thank you for giving me credit when you use my text and/or photos. Please credit: Robin Sparks; www.robinsparks.com.

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Day number two of Bali Spirit Festival 2009 is packed with classes and workshops led by healers, musicians, and instructors the likes of Swami Shankardev, Khalife, Patrick Creelman, Awahoshi, Rebecca Pflaum, Geoffrey Gordon, Nick Woolsey, Cudamani, Ravi Vempati, Ganga Giri, Akim Funk Buddha, and well, I could go on and on. It’s a metaphysical glutton’s delight. And I, for one, am happy to partake.

My first class is Awahoshi’s crystal bowl class, because I met her last night dancing with the Tribal Goddesses and she encouraged me to come. Something about her wise, mystic way intrigued me.

Awahoshi is a Cheyenne-Slovakian calirvoyant musician who pioneered the use of crystal sound therapy over two decades ago.

She is a keynote speaker for major conferences around the world, has been interviewed on BBC, NBC and Italian Alternative Medicine TV, and has been recognized by the Native American Hopi Bear and Blue Flute Tribal Elders, Navaho Medicine Keepers, and Mayan Priests as “one who brings circles of healing to the world”.

I arrive a few minutes late hungry and so, grab a Kafe organic chicken quesadilla atop a banana leaf(plate) and a fresh young coconut, with its top hacked off, complete with a hollow bamboo straw (no plastic straws here!). I balance the soccer ball sized coconut in one hand, the plate of food in the other and head across the lawn as if on my way to a Balinese temple ceremony.

Nearly every square inch of real estate is taken up in the large hall by students awaiting Awaohi’s crystal bowl magic. She must be really good, I am thinking. I lay my mat in the only remaining spot in the back corner of the room . Meanwhile, Awahoshi is saying that our bodies are 90% water and crystalline. She instructs us to repeat an affirmation during the playing of the bowls, claiming that our physical and metaphysical molecular structure will transform in accordance with our thoughts.

I pick an affirmation that at this moment, I desire most. Love. As much as I’d like to say I don’t want or need love, the fact is, I do, very much, and so as the reverberation of the crystal bowls zing and ricochet through every cell of my body, I repeat: I am sharing my life with an amazing, loving man who I love very much and together we are creating a life that is full of peace and joy, and together we are growing and changing the world. By the end of the hour, I not only know that my affirmation is going to come true, it feels as if it already has.
(Read more about Awahoshi at: http://www.bali3000.com/crystalsound/index2.html)

Time to get my yoga on at Patrick Creelman’s Anusara Yoga class in the upper bale. The curly headed Canadian’s energy is reminiscent of a college cheerleader.

Introduced to the teachings of Ram Dass early in his life, Patrick has been exploring the spirit of yoga for over 10 years in Costa Rica, Canada, Taiwan, Japan, U.S.A. and Hong Kong. What makes him stand out from the gaggle of yoga teachers I’ve had, is the subtlety of the words he uses to guide us through subtle movements, such that I find myself twisting and stretching in ways I’d thought impossible. We are accompanied throughout the hour by the African drumming workshop taking place on the lawn next door. The “up” energy as we disperse after class is palpable.

At sunset, I join friends on a rattan mat to watch a Balinese gamelon and barong performance. Geoffrey Gordon, renowned kirtan singer and musician leads us in devotional chanting.

The evening’s performances are a mellow respite from the past two nights of late-night dancing and upbeat music and what promises to be a riveting performance tomorrow night featuring Brian Parks (aka bKp) and Tom Freund.

I leave with about 40 more mosquito bites on my chest, under my arms, and on my stomach than I arrived with, but I am peaceful and happy as I kiss friends goodbye and head home for the night.

See you first thing tomorrow at Ines Somellera’s 8 AM Yoga & Writing class.

Robin Sparks
www.robinsparks.com

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Tri Hita Karana
3 Balinese words that symbolize the heart of the Bali Spirit Festival:
Harmony with God, Harmony in Community, Harmony with Nature

It’s official. The 2nd annual Bali Spirit Festival is under way!

www.balispiritfestival.com
A vibrant, uplifting and diverse festival of yoga, dance and music which awakens and nourishes each individual’s potential for positive change within our world.

Festival Vision –
*We honour, respect and promote the power of the saccred arts of yoga, dance and music.
*We champion the collaborative power of the global creative community with Bali.
*We strive to strengthen the ecological health and harmonious vitality of Bali and the cultural vibrancy of Indonesia.

Opening night, Tuesday April 28, 2009 -

I park my Yamaha motorcycle with hundreds of others feeling like I’ve arrived at an outdoor rock concert in California. Except that this is different. This is Bali.

For one thing, most everyone I know on the island is here. Claude from France, Rama from Venezuela, Glenn from New York, Orly from Tel Aviv, Marie from Sweden, Charley and Stacey from California, Ketut from Ubud, Bill from Australia, Paula from Singapore, and more. Each of us arrived in Bali once upon a time on holiday – and stayed. Why? Because we are better here than we were at “home” – and a big thank you to the Balinese who so graciously share their island and spiritually-infused lifestyle with us.

Locals, young and old stand to one side, watching us curiously. The air is balmy, the dress, tropical casual: shorts, sleeveless shirts, tevas, and long flowing sexy Goddess.

Attendees meander among the stalls of the Dharma fair, checking out handcrafted jewelry, hand-tailored clothing, and organic food and drinks. Eventually we make our way to the main stage, where we spread out on the grass. (Over 1000 tickets have been sold). Stars sparkle overhead throwing palm trees into silouette, and bamboo mats are spread out on the lawn.

Local dignitaries welcome the crowd onstage. Ketut, a Balinese healer, reminds us that we are much more than our physical bodies – which he compares to wrappers discarded on the side of the road (which is by the way far less common here than it was even 1 year ago). I Made Gunarta, co-founder and producer of the concert along with wife Meghan Pappenheim, welcomes us first in English and then in Bahasa Indonesia.

Pooja Bhantangar shimmers and shakes to haunting Indian music.

Rocky Dawuni, his waist length dreads swaying in the tropical air, performs fusion Reggae, Afro Beat.

Nick Woolsey spins fire, flames tossed into the air, spun round, streaking the night.

Larisa Stow and The Shakti Tribe huddle in prayer on a darkened stage preparing for will be the last performance of opening night. Lights, action! Lusty goddesses chant in Sanskrit, whipping the crowd into a spiritual fervor. Sofia Thom, ecstatic dancer,undulates stage right like the tantrika she is.

We are here not only to enjoy the music and the dance and to catch up with friends, but as part of a collective effort to be better than we were – yesterday, 15 minutes ago. It is about spotlighting the divine in everyone and celebrating it. It is dedication to living a life that supports and nourishes ourselves, every living being, community, and the planet.

Party on!
Your humble blog Gloddess,
Robin Sparks
www.robinsparks.com

Day One at the Balispirit festival, April 29, 2009:

I cycle through an outdoor Bali Hai movie set of rice paddies as the sun rises. Uniformed Balinese children fill the streets walking to school. The warm sun licks my bare shoulders. I pull over to the side of the road next to a football field where boys and girls in bright yellow uniforms fill the field like happy bees. I hear the deep resonant chanting that I often hear wafting on night air usually near temples. Incredibly enough, the sound, I discover, is coming from the coach who stands peacefully at the side of the field, the children buzzing around him. He wears a white flower behind his ear.

Right there on the side of the road, I speak into my voice recorder: Bali is beautiful without trying. So beautiful it hurts! In a good way of course. (-:

I climb back onto my bike and arrive at the festival in time for 8AM sun salutations guided by globally renowned yogis, Mark Whitwell, Ravi Vempati, Katy Appleton, and Uma Inder.

Eckhardt Tolle says actual consciousness cannot be defined in words. That consciousness is the space beyond and around thought. Awareness. Presence. A way of being that is beneficial to one’s self, to others, and the planet – in every walking moment.

Consciousness surrounds us here: Organic whole food served on biodegradeable banana leaves. Toilets that compost. Recycling bins everywhere. Integration of the local culture with the foreign. Friends hugging. Love. Lots of it. And gratitude to spare.

I join journalists in the media tent to speak with yogis Katy Appleton, Eoin Flinn, and Mark Whitwell.

Eoin, surfer, author, yogi, and a self-proclaimed “blissoligist” from Vancouver, says his temple is the ocean and that his students are regular people, many of them formerly entrenched in a life of work, consumerism and television.

Katy Appleton, answers a Balinese journalist who asks why we need yoga, that yoga liberates us. Helps us to define what binds us so that we can let it go. “Yoga asanas help you turn the noise down so that you can settle into a full feeling of abundance”, she says.

Mark Whitwell proclaims that there is a yoga practice for every person, young or old, religious or not, regardless of physical location, environment, or politics. He points out that the Islamic world has more yogis than anywhere in the world. “After all,” he said, “Muslims perform full body prayers five times a day.”

Speaking of Muslims, Pujiastuti Sindhu, from Bandung (near Jakarta) represents Muslim yoga practioners this week on Bali, an island of hinduism in the world’s largest Islamic country. Puji has been in the forefront of recent yoga fatwa debates across Indonesia and Malaysia.

She discovered yoga in a second hand bookshop seven years ago whereupon she began to practice yoga and within 5 years was teaching it herself. “Yoga softens the heart, lets it open up – and only with an open heart can we receive the truth,” she says. In spite of recent government “laws” which discourage Muslims from meditation and chanting as part of their yoga practice, she says that there are many headscarf-wearing, Muslim yoga teachers in Indonesia. She believes that Indonesia is already loosening its anti-yoga rhetoric.

__________________________

So all you yogis, yoginis, dancers, musicians, wanna-be-in-Balians and already-in-Balians…that’s it for today. I am headed back to the festival to dance with the Goddess Tribe.

Your Bali Spirit Blog Gloddess,
Robin Sparks
www.robinsparks.com

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A dragonfly just landed on the corner of my computer screen. Gorgeous lacy wings. Long delicately furry tail. I moved slowly to get out of my chair to my camera, but he flew off. I think he paid a visit to say “Don’t give up Robin”, so going to put in 15 more minutes trying to get these beautiful sounds of Bali onto this post. 15 minutes later: Yay!!! Thanks to my angel web design & maintenance guru in San Francisco, Bradley Charbonneau (www.likoma.com), you can hear morning and night sounds from Bali. Scroll down to the post before this one. They’re abbreviated versions and you’ll need to crank up the volume, but they’re there. Yay! Thanks Bradley. (Still open to learning how to perfect putting audios in my blog. Anyone want to share?).

More sounds and videos to come!

Love,
Robin

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Anyone out there know how to upload audio sounds? I borrowed several hours from sleep time last night to find software that would convert my wma files to mp3 for the Mac. Found one called Max and it converted them alright but then wouldn’t upload into my Word Press blog, I am assuming because they are too large (6plus megabytes each). Then found Shift, and it worked, but still the files are too large to load onto this blog.

It ought to be easier. I would rather be writing. Is there a techie out there that can help me avoid re-inventing the wheel? Am eager to share the beautiful sounds of Bali during its day and night of silence.

Robin in Bali

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morning-sounds-ubu…

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Robins Next Audio –

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This photo taken a few hours ago outside Bali Buddha where I stocked up on groceries in prep for tomorrow when the whole island of Bali goes into silence. It’s a holiday called Nyepi, celebrated the day before the Balinese New Year. No cars, no one allowed outside, in some villages no electricity. No human-generated noise. No movement outside of people’s personal homes. Nothing open.

It is the day that people go inside their hearts and minds to reflect, pray, and meditate about the past year. And the Balinese are also hoping that by keeping the lights off and minimizing human-generated sound that the evil spirits will be duped into thinking no one is home.

I said no to sailing with friends to the Gili Islands, in order to say yes to this incredibly cool holiday. I will record the day and night sounds of Bali-minus-humans. (I’ve heard that every year someone forgets to tell the birds and insects about Nyepi.) I’ll be uploading the soundscapes on this blog, so check back soon. Now off to Tutmak’s to celebrate the night before the day of silence. (: I’ll be thinking about you.

Love,
Robin

(P.S…Next morning I am fully into this day of silence…I even put up a notice that I won’t be checking email and am not reading as that would be someone talking to me. Right? Hmm. This entry probably counts as talking but I couldn’t resist telling you that as over-prepared as I thought I was for today, ($23 on groceries for one person for one day is nearly impossible here, but I pulled it off) I overlooked the need for dishes and cutlery. I am at this moment eating Bali Buddha organic raw granola and milk out of a sugar bowl with the end of my toothbrush. Back to scooping, slurping, and silence.)

[podcast]http://www.robinsparks.com/wp-content/uploads/830pm.mp3[/podcast]

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Do you have an impossible dream? Here’s how you can make it come true. Self help author, Barbara Sher, is having an online Twitter party beginning Monday, March 23; 8PM to Tuesday March 24; 8PM. The occasion? The 30-year anniversary of her bestselling book Wishcraft. You are invited! Once the party begins you can present YOUR wish and obstacle. Watch the magic as everyone at the party helps you to make your dream come true. See you there!

For directions about how to join the party on Twitter.com: http://www.barbarasherwishcraft.com/

Robin

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Everyday is an extraordinary day in Bali.

I began at 6AM this morning with a one hour holosync meditation, which is (in a nutshell) stereophonic sound designed to put take one quickly into an alpha state.

I then wrote on the terrace outside my room overlooking rice paddies, palm and mango trees, fountains, lotus flowers, a garden, and a pool. The staff brought me a breakfast of banana pancakes with palm sugar syrup and fresh watermelon, papaya, cantaloupe, and bananas. I put on a blouse I bought in Turkey, a skirt from India that I bought in Argentina, and flip flops from Brazil. Then I drove myself on a Yamaha scooter to see a house for rent in Nyuh Kuning, Bali by a guy from Oakland. I scootered through Monkey Forest past monkeys and temples and over bridges and up and around jungle ridges, past a man balancing a huge bag of who knows what on his head walking through a rice paddy and wound my way around tarp after tarp of rice laid out in the street to dry.

I ended the day at the open-air Yoga Barn in Bali participating a Osho-designed (India) Sufi (sect of Islam in Turkey) dance meditation, guided by Selina who is from the UK and has lived in Asia for 18 years.

Only one month left in Bali! Scary but a necessary part of the journey.

It is so easy to be here.

Philosophers’ Notes Discussion Group

The touchstone of my 3 months in Bali has been a discussion group I attend three times a week called Philosophers’ Notes. Brian Johnson from Los Angeles has been in Bali for six months writing Cliff Notes-ish summaries on 100 self-development books and in our group we discuss the big ideas he extracts from each one. He records our discussions and puts them on his website.

[caption id="attachment_827" align="alignright" width="291" caption="Our Philosophers\' Notes discussion group leader, Brian Johnson"][/caption]

There was a new guy in our group today, a fan from London who discovered Brian’s Philosophers’ Notes online and came to Bali expressly to meet him. And not a minute too soon because Brian announced today that he’ll return to Los Angeles in two weeks. (Note: Since this blog was posted, Brian has postponed his return to Los Angeles until August. Yay!) He’s been swamped with requests by authors to add their books in his Philosophers Notes selections. And a big name self-help author is advising Brian to expand Philosophers Notes and has hooked him up with the world’s largest spiritual publisher. In partnership, their mission says Brian, “will be to unify the world around a common set of truths.”

It is Brian’s work he says to challenge people to become fully alive. After being in Bali for 10 months “upgrading” his consciousness, he will return home.

All part of the “Hero’s Journey,” a mythical construct that comes up frequently in our discussions. From the intro in The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell explains the Hero’s Journey like this: “A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder (Bali in this case): fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man.” I’m not sure what “boons” are, but I’m sure Brian will do a great job bestowing them. (-; To retain the wisdom gained on the quest, to integrate that wisdom into human life, and then share the wisdom with the world is the most challenging part of the Hero’s Journey.

Go Brian!

Today’s Big Ideas

Today’s featured book was “The Other 90%” by Robert Cooper.
First a caveat…I found myself editing the word “God” from the notes that follow and then I stopped and thought, What’s up with this? Why am I comfortable speaking one way here but feel it’s necessary to edit what I say elsewhere? It has occurred to me lately that almost all my friends in San Francisco and Istanbul are avowed atheists. In Turkey secular atheism is understandable as a reflex to the threat of fundamentalist Islam. In San Francisco, I suppose it is a backlash to fundamentalist America.

In Bali, the people I’ve been hanging with openly refer to God, Jesus consciousness, Buddha, Abraham…all the big names in religious history. People here exist on a level that I can’t quite put words to. It’s a polyglot belief system, beyond Christianity, while oddly similar. The words you hear Bali-ed about are energy, vibration, polarity, consciousness, prayer, Goddess…I’m a kindergartner in this language and “way of being”, but I like it. And actually I think I’ve been an accidental practitioner most of my life.

Two years ago I wrote on my Facebook profile that my religious beliefs are: “spiritual, not religious”. I dislike (I was going to write “I hate” but that sounds decidedly unspiritual) dogma and exclusivity, whether it is in the form of fundamentalist Christianity, New Ageism (I received a reprimand from a friend via text message when he heard I was eating at Naughty Nuri’s, a restaurant that specializes in barbequed ribs) or I’m-gonna-convince-you-or-else atheism. Yes, atheism is a belief too. When you believe that your beliefs are the only right ones, you are practicing dogma and fundamentalism. My opinion of course. (-;

Quickly a little about my beliefs, I have always known that there is more than I can see. Since I can remember I have been able to sense things outside the physical plane. I am highly intuitive. I know in some indefinable way that there is a supra-loving, all knowing power both out there and in here, and well, everywhere, because I have experienced it. Repeatedly. And I believe that this super consciousness has manifested on earth a number of times to different ethnic groups as Jesus Christ, Buddha, Abraham, Mohammad…. and all the other “Greats”…If I had to pick one religion that resonates with me most, it would be Sufiism. Followed closely by Tantra.

Anyway, the word God as used in the notes that follow, means something bigger than yourself, which is in you when you are in tune with it. A something more than we can conceive of at our present level of consciousness that exists in every molecule in the universe. A universal intelligence if you will.

There! That said, let’s go…

The “Notes”:

Syntropy – The innate drive to perfect oneself.

Gradualness kills. If you want to make a change, Do it!

A good question to ask yourself is, are you closer to who you want to be and where you want to go than you were 30 minutes ago?

Winners are superior not to other people but to their former selves.

Your dharma, your highest calling, your raison d’etre is the divine expression of your unique truth. Everyone has it. It is when we shrink from expressing it in our lives, work and play, that we become depressed and frustrated. Most people numb the pain of non-expression through television, alcohol, food, drugs, gratuitous sex… fill in the blank here with your favorite numbing substance or activity.

When you take on the challenge to be and give your highest self to the world, you’ll be enthused, inspired, and happy.

You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.

What are you five signature strengths? Write them down and then make sure that what you do employs these strengths.

In every moment, we have the choice to step forward into growth or back into fear.

Pain is God’s gift – a challenge that helps us to grow as we reach towards becoming our higher selves, or as Brian puts it, “the unfolding of our awesomeness”.

When we get out of our minds and let the thing that is bigger than us, come through us authentically and truthfully, we are at our most powerful.He tells the story of a piano player who announced to his audience, “I am just a piano player, but tonight God is in the house”… Musicians know about channeling. Writers understand. Painters absolutely know. When you are “in the zone”, something bigger than yourself flows through you and the result is magnificence. By the way, it takes 10,000 hours of practice to master a skill. And it is through letting that bigger thing flow through you that leads to excellence.

Go away for one week of complete silence, just you and your journal, and when you get back into the real world the ideas you wrote in your journal will seem insane. Do them anyway. Those ideas were divinely inspired.

Whenever you feel stressed, ask yourself, “How can I best let God flow through me?”

EGO = Edging God Out

Brian says that personal development guru Gay Hendricks’s affirmation is “I expand in success, abundance, and love as I inspire others to do the same.” Hmm, I wonder, is it ok to steal someone else’s affirmation?

Which leads to this one: If there is a path, know that it is not your path.

Are you a weathervane blown every which direction by circumstance? When everyone is freaking out about the economy are you stressed about it too? Or are you a lighthouse, rock solid beaming your light steadily no matter how hard or from which direction the wind blows?

Two of Brian’s top values he says are authenticity and full expression. Beautiful. I may have to borrow these too. (-;

You can gauge a person’s character by how easily annoyed they are by other people and events. Picture a “character meter” with a 10 at one end representing someone unaffected by anyone or anything, and the number 1 on the other, representing someone who is bothered by everyone and everything.

What is your highest ideal for yourself? In every moment how can you demonstrate this by integrating it into your actions?

Embrace your biggest expressions, surrender to the power that is bigger than you.

Aspire to be a 2,000 watt light bulb that can sustain more of God’s flow without blowing.

Adversity – when overwhelmed, ask yourself, what is one thing I can do to gain some control over this situation? Action kills fear. Postponement feeds fear.

That’s a taste of life in Bali and a nibble on the Big Ideas from one “Philosophy Notes” discussion. More soon!

Over and out, Robin Sparks – Ubud, Bali. March 6, 2009, where everyday is an extraordinary one.

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I’ve been on a news sabbatical ( presidential inauguration excepted) for three months. No newspapers, no television, no internet news.

It’s amazing how little I don’t miss when I go without a media fix. The world goes on and the sad fact that people get murdered and bombs go off, is not affected in the least by whether or not I know about it. So the purpose in filling my head with group hysteria and negativity is… what?

In fact, for the past two years I haven’t had a television and very rarely read newspapers and online news. “Important” news gets filtered to me via email from my American friends. Sometimes even the “good” news comes late. Last year, for instance, I’d heard about this young black dude in the running for the Democratic party nomination, but as far as I could tell, he was inexperienced and an upstart and I figured Hilary was a shoe-in. Imagine my surprise when excited emails began arriving from friends who said they were going to vote for this guy who not only had a Middle Eastern name but who had lived part of his life in the Muslim country of Indonesia . My how the quickly the world is flattening. I am an American based in the Middle East and I currently live in Indonesia. Bring it on. I love this. OneWorld at last!

To get current with the presidential nomination and upcoming election, I delved into the “news” around the election and sure enough, I learned that this man named Obama was indeed a contender. And I began to follow the momentum as he won over the hearts of Americans and created hope throughout the rest of the world.

All right then, so I learn about the most “important” world events later than most. The 99% which isn’t important but creates fear, paranoia and fingernail biting? Gone. Poof. No longer part of my consciousness. Not knowing frees up not only my emotional space but tons of time.

The latest hand wringing news which has begun to filter through is about the crashing economy in America. My sister and at least two friends have lost their jobs. That is not good, but they have savings and they will make it through this. Companies are tightening their belts, individuals are hunkering down and stopping the flow of their money. Like a set of falling dominoes, mass consumerism has come to a grinding halt as massive contraction sets in. The amount of real wealth in the world has not changed one iota. Just the perception of it and its distribution. It’s a natural correction. I am also hearing that the government is trying to save us from ourselves by infusing errant companies with borrowed money. Mistake. But does my knowing about it change it? No.

In Bali, the economic crisis if brought up at all, is discussed as an abstract event that is occurring far away.

Foreigners in Bali
The foreigners living here are happy they got themselves and their money out of Dodge. Each day more people arrive to wait out the storm. (Usually women hoping to find love like Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, but that’s another subject.). A Wallstreet “head hunter” arrived two weeks ago after losing her job and lots of her savings. Shaken and wondering if she could make it here, I assured her that her income from her Central Park apartment alone, not to mention her Hampshires home would more than support her here. She can hardly believe it. But it is true. As long as the rupiah stays low relative to the dollar, foreigners are living like millionaires on less than $15,000 a year in Bali.

And the Balinese?
I doubt Bali will fall prey to this latest crisis. The Balinese certainly don’t seem worried about it so I’ll take my cue from them. Sure tourism will drop off, but they’re used to that, what with a 70% drop in tourism after the bomb in 2002 followed by another bomb in 2004 and the subsequent drop off in tourism after that. Neither of which the island has fully recovered from. Can’t get too much worse here on the tourist front.

But the main reason Bali won’t feel the recession is that the Balinese are a communal society and with the exception of tourism, they are self sufficient. They grow their own food, a lot of which doesn’t even require growing, because it sprouts of its own volition all over the island. Trees droop under the weight of bananas, coconuts, mangos, and papayas. Rice proliferates in the volcanic rich soil. Each Balinese plays a role in planting, maintaining, harvesting – all to assure a smooth cycle of life. There is more than enough water routed through the centuries old irrigation system, from family to family, rice paddy to rice paddy before completing its trip back to the sea. The Balinese make and repair the things they need like housing, clothing and tools. They take care of their own. There are no complicated financial instruments like mortgages and credit. People pay cash. If they don’t have enough cash, family and friends pitch in. And so in Bali, the basic survival needs are provided by Mother Earth and the need for friends, family and loved ones? It’s an integral part of their society. What more do they need?

Oh yeah, fuel. I’m not sure why, but gasoline is dirt cheap here. It costs 50 cents to fill up my Yamaha scooter. Cheap or not, luckily for them, the Balinese don’t need much of it. 95% of Balinese are not dependent on cars for transport. Homes and buildings are open to nature, designed to take advantage of sea breezes and temperatures that vary little year round, so there is no need for heat or air conditioning. Bali should weather the current economic storm just fine.

Last night my curiosity got the best of me and I broke my sorta news fast to read the local Bali Advertiser. So what is making the headlines in Bali?

Indonesia Bans Yoga for Muslims, Triggers Row
Indonesian yoga teachers disputed on Monday that the practice of yoga was damaging for Muslims after the country’s top Islamic body issued a fatwa banning followers from yoga that includes chanting, mantras or mediation (I’m sure they meant “meditation”)…because of a view it uses Hindu prayers that could erode Muslims faith. The meeting of Indonesia’s Ulema Council stopped short of a full ban and said Muslims could practice it as long as it was only for physical exercise…

Egads. I finally find my religion and someone’s threatening to outlaw it.

Bali Government Issues Guidelines for “Nyepi” – the Official Day of Silence
Nyepi, the absolute day of silence that will mark the dawn of a new year on the Bali Hindu calendar bgins at 6am on March 26….
No lights may be lit.
No work may be performed.
No amusements enjoyed.
Silence must be maintained.
People must not venture outside the sealed and silent quarters.
Hotel service staff must stay at work during the 24 hour period as travel between home and job will not be permitted.
All roads will be closed and emptied except for emergency vehicles.
Hotel guests must stay on their hotel grounds thourhgout the 24 hours…
Guest rooms will have their curtains drawn and outside lighting at hotels will be dimmed or extinguished.
Bali’s Ngurah Rai Airport will be closed with no flight operations allowed. Technical and emergency landings only permitted. Any crew landing at the airport between 6am aon March 26 until 6am the following morning will not be allowed to leave the airport terminal.
All Bali sea ports will be closed.
The once monthly tsunami alarm testing that occurs on the 26th of each month, will not take place in March.

I’ll write more later about this holiday. But here’s the deal. It’s the day that the Balinese hide out from evil spirits who come looking for trouble on that day. The Balinese figure if they hide and the island is quiet and dark, the bad guys will think no one is home and they’ll skip over the island in search of someone else to pick on.

Human Head in a Box Mystifies Authorities
A human skull found in a parcel by authorities when they xrayed the packet at the Ngurah Rai Post Office on January 28th continues to mystify authorities. A spokesman from the Sanglah forensic department said that it appeared that the skull was not a fossil, or intended for medical science or study, but appeared to be part of some sort of ritual as the skull had some kind of markings etched into the bones…

Danpasar Police Crack Down on Shirtless Motorcyclists
…Denpasar’s traffic police will soon be taking action against drivers, presumably male, cruising Bali’s roads bare-chested. Declared “Operation Sympathetic”…a police official confirmed that special attention would be given to foreign male tourists…the police spokesman also said a failure to wear a shirt can result in greater injuries when cyclists fall and make contact with asphalt road surfaces.

The Balinese Haunting Hour
Midday in Balinese is called tengai tepet and is one time of the day to be aware of. Even today many Balinese will not sleep at midday or embark on a a journey for fear of misfortune or being possessed by a demon that may be ‘lurking in the mist’…The ‘haunting hour’… occurs at dusk..Demons are thought to be present in great numbers at this time and it is the best time to put out offerings to them…made up of flowers, and incense stick, rice parcels and liberal splashes of rice wine called arak brem (demons have a penchant for hard liquor, of course.) It is recommended that you not sleep during this time for fear of possession…some Balinese maintain that whistling can attract demons, particularly witches which have transformed themselves into leyak (menacing fireballs or other manifestations of evil.

That’s it! All the news that’s fit to print in Ubud, Bali. Now back to my bubble.

Robin Sparks
just after bathing in the holy springs of the Hindu temple, Tirta Empul in Bali.

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Escape the World – three words that like a siren song tugged at my weary soul. Nine years of life on the road and a recent move to a foreign country had taken their toll. In spite of a multitude of reasons Not To Go, I went anyway, escaping the winter of Istanbul. I’d been in Bali for one month, a virtual paradise in and of itself, when I graduated to heaven by attending an “Escape the World” retreat held at the Kumara Sakti Resort in Ubud, Bali.

Located on the property of a Balinese prince, Kumara Sakti Resort is tucked in and around the jungle on the side of a ravine. From my room with its windowed walls, I can neither hear nor see another human soul except for a tiny dot on the horizon, which upon further inspection, is a farmer leading his ducks through a rice paddy. Just outside my room a tree bends over from the weight of several bunches of bananas. Larger than life waxy leaves dance in the breeze, so brightly hued they appear to be fake. It’s easy to see where the inspiration for the batik textile on my bed came from – the patterns for Bali’s famous ikat sprout all over the island. I stretch out on the hand-carved Balinese bed enveloped by a white mosquito net on the balcony to try something I don’t do very often. Nap.

Hand carved stone paths and steps meander, climb and fall next to streams and tiny waterfalls and statues to the Gods and lead to the dining hall, the yoga pavilion, and further down to the second pool. The only sounds aside from rain pattering on leaves, a rooster crowing, birds tweeting, frogs croaking, and geckos geckoing, is the deep resonant gong, calling us to yoga twice daily, and the tinkling of a bell to wake us at 6:30AM each morning. That’s right — just me and eight others in the jungle hailing from Holland, Jakarta, Australia, France, Sweden, Singapore, and America. The staff quietly attends to our every need and then some. When we return to our rooms each evening after dinner, there is a fresh frangipani blossom on our turned down beds, the candles on our balconies have been lit, and fresh incense placed on our tables. Although it’s a five minute drive to the center of Ubud, we may as well be a million miles away.

On our first evening we meet for tea and desert on the opulent terrace of the residence of the prince. Partners of One World Retreats, Claude Chouinard and Iyan Yaspriyana, introduce themselves and give us a preview of the week ahead. Claude tells us about Balinese rituals and traditions so that we can incorporate them into the upcoming week.

Among a handful of upcoming activities that include not only yoga and spa treatments, but forays into “real” Bali, we learn that we will attend a purification ceremony at a Balinese temple tomorrow night and are shown how to wrap our sarongs and secure them with temple sashes. One sarong for the outside, and one to be worn inside for bathing in the purifying spring waters. Claude encourages each of us to come up with an intention for the week to think about at the ceremony.

The next evening we go together to the temple and kneel behind a Balinese priest. Waving his hands in the smoke of the incense and holding up flower after flower in prayer clasped hands, he chants in Balinese. Whatever he is asking for and whoever he is asking it from, thank you very much. I am sure that I can use it and I accept it gratefully. We then bathe in the holy waters of the temple pausing under each of eleven fountains to make a wish before letting the healing waters rush over us. There is a longer line than most behind the relationship fountain.

Walking through waist-deep water sheathed in white linen and dipping under its surface reminds me of my Christian upbringing – the significance that water plays in cleansing and renewal. I’d been thinking that 2009 would go down as the year that I began a new life. In the year 2000 I began living abroad for months at a time in various countries in order to write about those who leave home to find a new one, as well as the stories of my own inner journey in search of a new tribe. I’ve been telling friends that my book has gestated for nine years and that it is time for it to be born. Two weeks ago, I laid in the middle of a kundalini healing circle and saw an amphibious-like shell falling away, and something raw, tender, and innocent, emerging. Might the book be a metaphor for me?

The next morning at 6:45 am I am stepping gingerly on the beautiful inlaid stones beneath my feet, shimmering wet after all night rain. The smell of jasmine in the air, deep gong signaling the beginning of another day. In the open air yoga pavilion overlooking the jungle, Iyan guides us through meditation and yoga with his deeply resonant voice, both soothing and eerily reminiscent of the chanting of the priest last night. Ommmmmmmmm. Iiifff youuuuur miiiind (up and note or two on the word mind) has gone awayyyyyy (up again on last word) bring it baaaaaack (stretch out the word back and bring it down a half note). One of the attendees has never before done yoga. Two are regular yoginis and the others, like me, are on and off practitioners. Our different levels are seemingly irrelevant. Iyan’s intuitive guidance offers precisely what each one of us needs when we need it.

After yoga, we eat breakfast in the open-air (of course) dining room. Black rice pudding with warm coconut cream. Fresh papaya, mango, pineapple, banana, yogurt, home made crunchy muesli, and a delightful bread that can best be described as crunchy, nutty, wholesome, slightly salty, and yummy. These are but a few of the selections on the menu. Master chef and raw organic cooking specialist, Ceciia Chaimberlan of Sweden, owner of Curly Foods (insert website url here) is training the kitchen staff this month. From the “Happy Salad” with its center of finely chopped green olives, lemon zest, olive oil, black pepper, naked cashews, and a side of tamari sauce, to the chocolate mousse which is so delicious that we raid the refrigerator to scrape the remains from the mixing bowl (imagine our surprise when Cecelia reveals the mousse is actually mashed avocado!), each meal throughout the week is a mouth watering concoction of raw organic ingredients. Cecilia says that for food to be truly nutritious, it is essential that it not only be healthy, but that it be prepared with loving hands. Fete acompli!

Early one morning, we drive up the summit of Mr. Gunung Batur and as the sun’s first rays beam over the rim of the volcano, we do sun salutations. Amazing. We gradually descend on mountain bikes past gob-stoppingly gorgeous rice paddies and through villages where the Balinese are going about their ordinary (albeit extraordinary to us) daily lives.

When first informed about the day of silence, some of us are a bit dubious. What, no talking? No phone calls or instant messaging? For 24 hours? Claude suggests we spend some of the time writing affirmations. (but no reading allowed). As it turns out, it is the day of silence that sets a transformative tone for the rest of the week and we love it. I for one, resolve to make a day of silence a regular ritual in my life. One of the participants, Andra from Jakarta says later, “It was the day of silence that changed my outlook on life. On that day I found that I’ve been searching for happiness in all the wrong places. That I have all the answers within me. It was a real awakening.”

A bridge leads from the resort through the jungle into the rice fields and eventually to one of the most unique, awe-inspiring, delicious, healthy open air restaurants in Bali – Sari Organik – situated next to the farm where it grows its own produce. There surrounded by a palette of colors, smells and sounds that are pure bountiful Bali, we laugh and relax and eat together, and I slurp through a hollow tube of bamboo the best mango lassie I have ever tasted in my life.

The spa treatment rooms are open to views that simply have to be seen and experienced to be believed. It is in this setting where we are expertly and reverently kneaded and massaged. I have never and doubt I will ever again experience anything like the three-hour ayurvedic massage that is the specialty of the trained masseuses at Escape the World retreats. The pedicure and manicure, the hair cream bath, the head and shoulder massage, the crown chakra anointing of oil, oh yes, those too are divine. But the ayurvedic massage not only puts me in a deep state of relaxation, but brings up insights and melts away negativity. I have long dreamed of living in Bali, and now here I am sitting smack dab in the middle of my dream my feet being washed lovingly, my shoulders being massaged looking out at what must be the most beautiful place on the planet. The world is my mirror. What I see, both good and bad, I create. It’s an analogy I’ve heard before. But it is not until this day during this massage at this moment as I sat here looking out at these scalloped mirrored rice paddies that the words take root. The world is my mirror. If I created this, I am one drop dead gorgeous woman!

Instead of ruminating on all the things my boyfriend does that bug me, I begin picturing the perfect loving partner all the way down to his calf muscles. The person in our group who annoys me with her deluge of derogatory comments about Americans? She too is my mirror and all negative thoughts about her go the way of the knot in my back.

Wrapped in a sarong and holding a mug of hot ginger tea, I’m seated on the terrace in a full-on post-massage glow thinking I smell like a frangipani flower and look like an oil spill. I don’t ever want to shower again!Someone emerges from an adjoining treatment room and sits down next to me. Guess who? That’s right. Her face glowing like an angel, we smile at each other, Goddess to Goddess. Duchess to American.

On the last morning we meet in the yoga pavilion to create from palm leaves Balinese offerings like the ones we have seen piled up on altars and stone Gods all over the island. Seated in a circle, we watch in silence as Iyan burns the pieces of paper we have given him, containing lists of things we want to eliminate from our lives. He covers the ashes with flower petals and takes the basket to the river. We watch from above as he first prays and then releases the petals and ashes, allowing them to flutter on the currents down to the river below to be carried out to sea. They back up behind a branch that has fallen across the water, but I turn and walk away in peace, confident that it is but a temporary obstacle that will soon be washed away on the current.

The Escape the World retreat touches parts of your heart and soul that a boot camp-like yoga retreat simply can’t reach. It is more than a meditation workshop, where one spends 99% of their time in their heads. And it is far more than its delicious healthy inventive meals and mesmerizing massages. The Escape the World Retreat is a buffet for all the senses. And isn’t balance what the body and soul craves nearly as much as food and water? Find out all about how to escape your world at www.oneworldretreats.com.

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Do you find yourself waiting to do what you love until after you retire? After the children leave home? After you finish taking care of that other person’s needs? After, after, after…

Are you living the Life Deferment Plan?

You’re not alone. There is a way out.

First, identify what you really want. You know you are doing what You want when you are infused with enthusiasm.The word enthusiasm comes from the Greek word entheos, which means to be inspired by a god. When you are enthused, you are plugged in, and the energy flows. You are in alignment with Source – your purpose for being on the Planet. Not only will you feel good, but everyone around you will benefit as well. Marianne Williamson says that when you let your light shine, you give permission for those around you to do the same.

For those of you who feel it’s your mission to put others first, if you feel any resentment around what you are doing – that you are sacrificing time that you would rather spend on yourself, stop immediately and reconnect to Source, to yourself. Giving comes happily and naturally when you are doing what you love.

How? For some it is exercise, for others art, meditation, yoga, dance, travel, spirituality – whatever it is that takes you back to the place where you remember who you are and what you love. Go there daily to remember and then take at least one action step per day to honor yourself and those around you by taking time for you. Ayn Rand, author of the Fountainhead, says that it is a far greater gift to others to inspire others by being your highest self, than to directly assist them at neglect to yourself.

Your family, your loved ones, your friends, your employers – some of them will resist at first, but those who have your greatest interest at heart will grow to understand that you are not abandoning them. They will eventually rally around what you are doing. Some people, perhaps even a job, will drop away. But do not fear! A void is necessary to draw in the right people and opportunities.

I abandoned my life deferment plan 10 years to begin living and traveling around the world to tell the stories of some of the world’s greatest adventurers. I am not rich. I meet people living uncommon lives all the time and they are usually not rich either. All it takes is creativity and the willingness to look outside of the box, and the courage to go against the grain.

A month ago I moved from my now-home in Istanbul to Bali for the winter. Tons of self-inflicted guilt and resistance came my way, even a last minute injury almost causing me to cancel, but I came anyway, and it has been a precious, nourishing, and so RIGHT experience in every way!

I’ve not entirely mastered this skill of taking time for me. A few weeks ago a gorgeous Venezuelan man living in Bali began courting me. He helped me find a place to live, helped me move, introduced me to a meditation group in an ashram, a philosophy group, in essence he took care of me and I ate it up. Once seduced however, he began trying to convince me that anything that took me away from him should be eliminated. And for two days I found myself at his home in the jungle doing the things that mattered to him. I think I wrote for 20 minutes during those 2 days. We didn’t socialize with anyone else. My yoga classes dropped off. He said I should give up my home in Istanbul and move to Bali to live with him. He even tried to convince me that the offer of a free retreat I’d received in Bali in exchange for writing an article should be turned down because it would mean he couldn’t see me for a week.

Uh-oh, the old familiar feelings of losing myself came flooding back. How many times must I hit my head against this same wall before I finally get it? I “escaped” quite literally from his home in the jungle and am still struggling to resist his persistent overtures. I, like everyone, need love. But must I give up me for love? I’m trying to be ok with a void in my love life, keeping the faith that the right man for me will be in alignment with what I am doing (and me with what he is doing) and will support it, not ask me to abandon it.

As for you, whether it be a spouse or lover a job, a member of your family, societal expectations, whatever – remember that when you do what you love, you are entheos, and not only you, but everyone around you wins.

This is so important that I encourage you to join us this coming March 27-29, 2009 at a Time For Me conference in the Virginia mountains near Washington DC. Best selling author and speaker, Barbara Sher, will be the key note speaker– www.barbarasher.com. I’ll be speaking too, telling the stories of my global adventures these past 10 years and the amazing people I’ve met along the way.

Come take time for you. It will change your life. NoTimeForMe.net

Robin Sparks founder of OneWorld Ltd
Istanbul, Turkey
www.robinsparks.com

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My first night in Bali I struggle to stay awake at 8:12. Like a princess in some kind of eden, I sit perched on my large teak four poster bed, high above the turquoise pool below, the uplit banyon tree, the night sounds of the jungle. (I am the guest of Ketut, owner of Tutmak Restaurant) And the occasional chirp of a gecko. All is quiet except for the night sounds. There is air conditioning, but I have all the windows thrown open wide, have touched my skin with citronella to ward off night insects, and so me who normally cannot sleep, will sleep tonight sans earplugs, plus a chorus of crickets, frogs and who knows what else, and the sound of the dripping rain, just dripping not falling. Gentle as is Bali. On white crisp sheets. I will let down the netting around my bed. And in the morning, light will stream into my room and likely the sounds of the night will wake me, but it will be like camping.

There is AC but I don’t want it. It is not hot. Humid yes, and so you move a little more slowly, but hot, no. Not even warm really. It just is, the temp it might be in a botanical garden with less humidity. I want a life where I live in concert with the outdoors. I don’t want to shut it out.

This is the house that Ketut told me five years ago he was going to build. It is still a work in progress.
And I will read Rumi until I fall asleep.

And so I do. Only to wake up sometime in the soft darkness, rain still tapping the leaves on the tree off my terrace, frogs still croaking, so much softness everwhere holding me. Bali embracing me. I get up in my jet lagged early awake time and rearrange my things. Unpack my bags. Everything now in its place. I look at the clock. It is midnight. Ah, jetlag. I take a sleeping pill. And make a list of what I will do tomorrow. I pad around quietly in the soft night on bare feet. Maude and Harold the dogs sleep outside my window on my private terrace.

First morning 12/13/08

This morning I wake enveloped in the soft muslin hanging around my teak canopy bed, perched high above the banyon trees, sun is out. Soft voices below. Yes, I am in Bali I remember. I get up and move about slowly. There is all the time in the world. Wash face. Lay out clothes, prepare makeup, my things for the day. At some point I glance at the clock on my phone. It is 8am. 8AM! and it feels so right. So rested. 8am only comes at home when I have an appointment, someplace to be. But now i remember how I lived in Bali. How everyday in this equatorial island ends at 6PM and begins again at 6am. Down with the sun, up with the sun.

James Johnson, That’s all right, that’s alright playing in Tutmak’s where I sit having my first cup of Balinese coffee….I sit on platform having removed my pink flip flops.

The quiet of Bali is disturbed only by the motorcycles, everywhere. Too bad they don’t have a law requiring people to ride what they call here pushbikes. Then it would truly be paradise. But not as much fun.
This morning, like in a foreign film, I got up my full skirt, cotton blouse, pink flip flops and simply pointed the boys at the house the direction I want to go. I am handed a helmet, and board the back of the motorcycle. We start and stop up the wending muddy path, stopping only to allow a group of five men who are carrying a large knarly branch, big enough to take up the breadth of the muddy path, and then we go, me watching, trying to memorize landmarks so that I can find my way back.

Off the muddy path, we turn right at a gas station, and a something Gengis Guest house sign. Soon we pass the Arma museum on the right and we keep going until we turn at , eeks, what was there where we turned? I hope to remember when I go again. Straight along until soon we have pulled up in front of Tutmak’s.

Drums, beeps, American jazz, and buzzing, buzzing motorcycles.

breakfast – fresh papaya juice. #2 breakfast, toast, avodacdos, eggs, arguala, bacon, chives, grilled tomatoe. Sitting crosslegged on cusions on a platform at a low teak table.

Today I will rent a motorcycle. Get millions of rupiahs (you take off the last four digits to get the equivalent in dollars). Go get a massage ($6!) and pedicure and manicure and facial. I will check in with Marcioux the fat frenchman who owns Highway internet cafe. I will get him to help me send photos to my doctor of the not quite healed open wound from recent surgery. I will find a pharmacy and steri strips, and a health food store where I will stock up on vitamins and natural skin creams.

I will write. Complete assignments 8 and 9 before requesting number 10. I am so inspired to write here. I wrote my forum yesterday:

“Made it! None of the horrific things that even I worry about before taking a big trip happened. I am sitting barefoot outside drinking a fresh mango lassi, watching women walk up the hill balancing towers of fruit on their head. Across the street is an ornate temple gate leading to someone’s home with some kind Hindi god statues, and out walks a woman just now and she’s placing burning incense and tiny offerings everywhere on the ground. And who’s on the sound system but Waylon Jennings… You can run but you can never really hide.

Anyway, here I am ready to get back to work. I’m in that first excited phase before jetlag kicks in. I did a lot of work in good old pen and ink enroute (couldn’t find an adaptor to fit a Turkish plug so computer was useless, but guess what? They use the same size plugs in Bali so I’m golden here) on Assignments 8 and 9 and will transfer them to ‘puter tonight and request #10 tomorrow.

And for those of you who are thinking, how lucky… must be nice to have that kind of money. I flew here on frequent flyer miiles and I am the guest of the owner of a restaurant here who I let stay in my SF apartment years ago. My flats are rented in Istanbul, and even if I were paying for my own place here, which eventually I will be, I save money because the cost of living is so much lower here than “home”. My bedroom – a huge canopy bed and tile bathroom open to the outdoors, and just outside my bedroom is a garden with a pool. The living room has a stream running thru it with koi fish and goldfish…The owner won’t be here for a few days, but told his staff to take care of me.

Point is, magic is free (or very cheap). You don’t have to settle for ordinary. – Robin”

A member of the forum replied:

“Dear ObiWan-Cinderella,

Please teach me how! I long to drink a fresh mango lassis in Bali,
instead of sipping weak coffee from a styrofoam cup in a Comfort Inn
in rainy PA.

Oh, my! Do I!

I’m happy for you and thankful you made it there safely and in one
piece. I’m happy to just to read about your life, for it brings a
moment of fantasy and sunshine and escape into my dull gray one.

I dream of following you on a journey, and having you be the tour
guide that opens my eyes to a life I can barely imagine. And the funny
part is – I know you can do it.

And I am so thankful that I know you! You are a tonic for my tired soul.

Please write more – and often.

Much love and gratitude,
Jennifer”

I will go home late this afternoon or evening and swim.
So few distractions. If there is daylight after writing, I will visit the Yoga Barn where I will meet a friend and sign up for classes next week.

I will shower and dress and return on this Saturday night to the Jazz Cafe. The first place I went 5 years ago and ended the evening on the back of a motorcycle with a woman with long flowing red hair, tatoos up and down her ankles, leaning into the turns on a cool Balinese night, the smell of jasmine and clove cigarettes in the air, a full moon illuminating the way.

Robin in Bali
Saturday, Dec. 13, 2008

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Refugees

by Robin Sparks

I am up before the sun speeding in a taxi to the Istanbul airport to work with Iraqi refugees who are headed to, of all places, the United States, the country that I have voluntarily left behind. I am a refugee from America.

Refugee: One who has crossed an international border and is unwilling or unable to return home because of persecution or a well-founded fear of persecution on account of race, religion, nationality, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion.

Well, if I count all the rednecks in America including some who have been in power recently… Nah, I probably still wouldn’t qualify as a bonafide refugee, although I certainly feel like one.

So who are these Iraqi refugees and why are they leaving, and why for the USA for god’s sake?

(more…)

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Well, here I am again at long last. It’s as if I deserted my soul when I left this blog untended….You’ve even stopped writing to ask why no recent updates. I’ve lived in Argentina and Turkey these past 18 months. My website update time was gobbled up with the new job of acting editor and columnist for EscapeArtist.com’s new travel zine. It was great, I learned a lot. We’ve now parted ways and I’m here to say, it’s good to be back.

I’ve got some major tales to catch us up!

Best of all, I think I’ve found IT. Home. In the most unlikely, or the not so unlikely of places. At the center. In the first country I came to after abruptly leaving the old tribe 10 years ago. My new home is perhaps not so surprisingly, geopolitically smack dab in the middle of the undeclared West vs. Middle Eastern war. That’s right. I’m in the middle where I most like to be. I’m in Istanbul, Turkey and it rocks.

But let’s get started connecting the dots to how I got here. Come along!

Robin

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January 26, 2006 was the departure date on my airplane ticket from San Francisco to Bangkok. From Bangkok, I’d go to India, and from there to Bali.

India has beckoned me for years, especially Kerala. With more and more jobs being exported to India every day and with its new role as an emerging world power, India seems destined to be a next best place. I wanted to meet the Americans and Europeans who are moving to India, to get a glimpse of what their lives are like.

Bali – On this island I’d felt so at home during my five months there, that I left some money in a bank account and a box of personal effects with a friend. How is it that three years later, I’ve yet to return? There have been things like bombs that went off in the night. And the sticky web of time and commitments in the States. But maybe its just that at some level, I fear that I will discover that, Yes, Bali is home. Which means taking the final (or first?) step and going.

On January 30: A week before my planned departure, I received a call from EscapeArtist.com. They were hatching a new online travel magazine and wanted to know if I’d be interested in wearing an editor’s hat.

And so, one week before departure date, I aked my travel agent to re-route my trip to Argentina.

Two months later, March 26, 2006 – I began my stay in Argentina last month on a 75-acre farm in the wine and orchard region of Mendoza.

Today I am sitting in my lovely apartment in Buenos Aires, Argentina finishing what will be the first issue of EscapeArtist Travel Magazine.

There have been rabbit trails, oh yes. Like the emergency appendectomy I had in a rural hospital, followed by a move to Buenos Aires, and a trip to Uruguay for an international real estate conference. I’ll tell you all about it in EscapeArtist Travel Magazine, www.escapeartist.com.

See you in Turkey June 3 for the experience of a lifetime!!! Sign up now!

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