As I’m sitting on our verandah, I hear a pulsing rhythm, chaotic layers of insects and frogs, fan ticking, Balinese family chatting, and occasional call from other animals punctuating the flow – here is a recording, just from computer so not sure if you’ll be able to hear:
It reminds me of Gamelan music, somehow shimmering in discord, yet balancing. All the atonal sounds with rhythms that dance apart, then interlock.
Jesse, one of our hosts here, told us that the black and white pattern of fabric so prevalent in temples represents the forces of dharma and adharma, like Vishnu the creator and Shiva the destroyer – not exactly “good and evil” because both are worshipped as part of life. In the black and white checks, you can’t have one without the other – it’s not a battle, it’s a harmony. Jesse says that it’s balance.
Perhaps we could see this everywhere, but here this pulsing dynamic is abundant. In the feet of a dancer, in the patterns of a temple roof.
And in the most basic food — the lines of a paddy… the kernels of rice… the thwop of threshing…
Maybe the allure of Bali is the opportunity to seeks that dynamic balance inside ourselves.