Beautiful Purpose

Fallen plumeria blossom

Bali throws flower petals at my feet everywhere every day. When I step outside, fresh plumeria blossoms adorn my path. Arriving at my car, they are on the windshield. It is beautiful and I have experienced it in other tropical places such as Hawaii. The blessing is compounded in Bali because blossoms are ubiquitous to the island.

Balinese people make offerings every day and leave them all around and on the ground too.  It is called canang sari. Canang means beautiful purpose and sari means essence. A small tray made of woven palm leaves is filled with different colored flowers, with perhaps some food, incense, and even money. The whole arrangement is specific and includes careful placement as to direction of each object. It is time consuming to prepare each day and I have seen a woman at my hotel here in Ubud spend hours carefully preparing scores of trays to be placed in many places each day. People all over Bali spend countless hours in this daily ritual of prayer offering. To walk anywhere in the street is to see canang sari on the ground in front of businesses, at temples and homes, adorning sculptures and shrines; everywhere. This morning I walked to my car and the vehicle next to mine had a freshly made canang sari offering sitting at a place of prominence on the dashboard.

Balinese girl, adding fresh offerings midday on a sidewalk in front of an establishment or home

On a sculpture of Ganesha

At first, I took note and simply stepped around the little baskets, but now I am also honoring their meaning and absorbing the blessings. It is respectful. I feel blessed.
Read more here: Offering 

On the pavement

Offering flowers being sold at market.

Early morning, on a car dashboard!

On a sculpture of a praying man.

I love the term canang sari, beautiful purpose—essence! Something to meditate upon. The Balinese do each day, and then spend time and resource manifesting it.

A Smile In Return For A Smile

The poor jungle nations of Asia never appealed to me. Cambodia fell further in my opinion after learning of the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge regime during the civil war, 1991-1997, when millions were ruthlessly massacred. So I arrived in Cambodia after a sojourn in Thailand with trepidation, and have been pleasantly surprised. The people are gracious, more fluent in English, and smiling too. Cambodia is the country cousin to Thailand, without an ultra modern city like Bangkok.

My journey to Siem Reap from Bangkok went smooth enough, and when I arrived at my hotel after 10 in the evening, I found my room spacious and comfortable. The next morning complimentary breakfast satisfied my taste, especially with a cook in the room making custom omelets to order, and after walking around the neighborhood visiting a nearby grand temple and old town with bustling market full of foods, fabrics, and arts & crafts, my previous attitude melted away.

If there were any doubts of the value of being in Cambodia, they have been completely erased by Angkor Wat and the cheerful beauty of Cambodians. I had seen photos of the largest temple complex in the world and was not impressed by the drab colors and jungle scenery. I did not know that it is the most visited sacred site in the world, and if I did, that would have discouraged me further.

I set out this morning before dawn with Francesca, an Italian I met on the flight from Bangkok and became friends with, and Dara, our trusted and smiling tuktuk driver. Even before we got on the road to the temple, tuktuks with passengers were everywhere going in the same direction through the darkness. Fifteen minutes and we were pulling up to Angkor Wat and joining a throng of people walking toward the featureless dark temple. A crowd was already massed at a lake, unable to go further until opening time. As the sun rose the sky brightened behind the spiraling domes and slowly the temple features became visible in bluish tinges with a rosy sky above, embellished by fluffy clouds of purple. We were a bit in awe and simultaneously disappointed to be at the back of a crowd, unable to get the pictures we wanted. Surprisingly, a charming little girl arrived by our side in the half-light and took an order for coffee, then dutifully arrived back in minutes with tasty hot drinks. When we continued forward my impressions steadily rose at the base of the complex while I looked up at the massive scale of the carved rock and orderly beauty of the temple. As we strolled, it became apparent we were in no ordinary place. The crowds quickly thinned so we were actually quite alone. The place is so huge, people set out in all directions by foot and tuktuk. Our wandering excursion took seven hours and there is far more to see, but we were overwhelmed, hot, and growing tired. I bought a ticket that allows for two more visits.

 

At various times Dara would find us and drive us from temple to temple. Always, the beauty was great along with the dimensions, especially in grandness of design and the ubiquitous stone carvings adorning every facade and corner. Angkor Wat is more interesting for the fact that it began Hindu and later shifted to Buddhist, so the two influences are mingled. The jungle through the ages has entwined with structures, so that huge trees are often seen growing out of temples and snake-like roots wrap around carved block. Many stone faces appear, sphinx like and huge in improbable places high above, adorning towers. Often, monks in orange saffron robes are seen making an accent amid the monotone structures, and I loved taking their picture. Always a smile in return for a smile. And that is the way it has been in Cambodia so far.  

Live Life Fully

For a lover, the greatest torment is separation from his love. It can be an agonizing pain if the goal of one’s longing is removed and becomes inaccessible. Perhaps this is why religions preach detachment as a means to happiness. If we cease to want, then neither do we lack. If we are near God, the All-Knowing, the Protecting, All-Bountiful, then we should be happy all the time, regardless of our outer circumstances. The difficulty is that we are part of the wondrous and terrible wheel of life and death, the Matrix of being. In Hindu scripture it is named the cause of suffering. We are told everything physical is fleeting and must end in death—leading to transformation and rebirth. Only the spiritual is changeless and imperishable. Yet, in this world, the physical is the vehicle for all our learning, our joy, satisfaction, jubilation, achievement and growth.

I learned how crushing this lesson could be when my beloved daughter Naomi became ill with cancer and two years later died. The anniversary of her death is tomorrow, July 5. She died in 1999 at the age of nineteen. How could I be detached from her? If I were a saint maybe I could stand back and say calmly, the Hand of God is at work and she is being transformed and taken by Him to a better place. The fact is, my heart was broken a thousand times by the demolition of her body which she loved so much and tried desperately to save, and after we buried her I cried every day for six years. Granted, I know she became a radiant light during her calamity and is now among the chosen in paradise, yet I will never “get over” the loss of her here, in this physical world. Is it because I am not detached?

In the Baha’i historical record is a transcendent figure named Nabil. He was the close, devoted follower of the prophet Baha’u’llah and wrote the definitive history of the Baha’i revelation, called The Dawn-Breakers. At the time of Baha’u’llah’s death, Nabil became so distraught that he walked into the ocean and drowned himself. He could not be detached from his beloved or live in this world without Him. The pain was unbearable. I understand, although I also know this life is but the time of a blink of an eye in eternity and soon enough this dream will vanish and everlasting union will prevail.

From the other side, I often hear Naomi’s voice telling me to live life fully and appreciate its great beauty.  Soon enough it will be over, but now, love life and be glad for it.

To learn more about Naomi Boone and her life go to the website: A Heart Traced In Sand, Reflections On A Daughter's Struggle For Life