Yogini Feathers


Leisurely stroll through town back through the lush field of trees, over the bridge and up the stone stairs and down the tiny path to Penestanan. I sit and enjoy fresh nourishment as I correspond and feel the imaginative flow pour. The energy in Ubud is intense. I have so many ideas and simply need a troop to carry them out. Grounding and organization are not my strengths. Group weekend retreats to the organic farm where I offer morning yoga and meditation for guests in the bales is one of the countless creations being dropped in my consciousness.

In the late afternoon I hitch a ride to the gorgeous Ashram Munivara for a Kundalini tantra yoga class. The gardens here are truly divine.

A group of twelve or so of us wait patiently for an instructor to show up. We are on Bali time so precision is not to be expected, a couple of young kids and an overweight Rottweiler mix dog roam freely among the mats as well. The course is intended to begin at 5 pm and by 5:30 pm we are still missing a leader. I offer to teach vinyasa a la Dharma Mittra apologizing that I know nothing about Kundalini to share. We practice together, a mix of local and foreign yogis. Many are on their own wavelength, breathing Kundalini fire in alternate postures. All is perfect. The sun sets as the class is ending, the noisy chatter of the nighttime geckos escalating as the sky darkens.

At a basic warung I dine on gado-gado again, the most economical (anywhere from $1 to $3) and high energy vegan Balinese dish. This version is pretty decent, the peanut sauce perhaps missing a bit of the spicy punch. I will share a loose taste-test comparison of gado-gado in a future post.

The tribe convenes at Love Space to plan a communal beach trip to Amed on the east coast of Bali. Among the group we will share holotropic breathing techniques, acroyoga, Thai massage, morning sunrise meditation, Zen trekking near the volcano, snorkeling, and a shamanic opening and closing ceremony in which I will lead. An appropriate drum will be found, I can feel it despite all telling me it is impossible to find such items in Bali. Acquiring Palo Santo may be the only challenge. To my late Brazilian teacher Ipupiara (whose name translates to Fresh Water Dolphin) of the Ureu-eu-wau-wau tribe, the people of the stars, I love you so. I can feel your presence constantly and send you light.

Back at the compound we drink jasmine tea on china with a beauty from Paris. She is an old friend of the queen yet is quite different in personality, a rugged, nature loving photographer with many international adventures to share. She offers to teach me how to ride a motorbike and the queen shakes her head at such notion for queens prefer chariots. Flying is what I seek most.

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