The Love Space rocket-ship blasts off at 10 am for Amed. We are a tribe of seven and will be met by five more at our destination. The ride takes approximately two and a half hours to the quiet beach town of Amed located in East Bali, a short stop for fruit and snacks in a local market and through the green fields of this godly island.
We walk around for a while perusing homestays, it a great opportunity for us to learn how to work together, to balance our own desires and needs with others. Community is the focus. All I crave is to play on the black sand beach. I care not of the location where to crash, whether there is hot water or a pool or wifi. The group splits among three different homestays within walking distance of one another, I choose cheaply. Ketut’s homestay has little ambiance, five simple huts missing toilet seats in the bathrooms and a yard filled with trash but is planted directly on the quiet beach. A solo goat roams happily on the sand.
We all bathe in warm water, the current of the afternoon waves quite strong. I eagerly jump in for I love the sea. Water and dolphin blessings.
I begin a cleanup brigade of the garden after the dip, placing the Bingtang beer and coke bottles, the cigarette butts, plastic nonsense, etc. in a found bucket and am quickly joined by a group of eager young boys who too lovingly assist. With a pile of rocks I construct a heart garden aided with beautiful creative souls.
A red tapestry pulled off my homestay wall, I’m pretty sure the queen won’t mind, along with my crystals and other sacred huacas I pull together an altar in the center of our garden of love. With my new drum I beat to the directions, ceremonially opening the weekend. We call to the seven directions, the east, the south, the west, the north, the sky, mother earth, and the center, the one heart of us all. Family is united with Gaia. We are one.
Via a previous evening’s dream I am gifted an activity of making intention bracelets with red, white, and yellow ribbon that I too have carried on this journey. Representing the fire, water, and air (the same cloth colors used in Balinese Hindu conversion ceremonies) we close our eyes and braid our prayers into our consciousness, some of us holding the ribbon in our mouths, some by our toes. Let the fun and healing commence!
Across from our friendly abode we dine together, supping on Balinese specialties such as nasi campur, a plate of rice covered with different vegetable stews, a fried egg, stupid prawn crackers, and spicy sambal, mie goreng, a Balinese version of Chinese fried rice, blended fruit juices, shaved ginger and lemongrass tea.
Our bellies satiated the live music begins, three local guys singing classic reggae songs and American rock. Fairy sister and I dance for all, blissfully shaking our shakti with bare feet. Later on the black beach again we stroll, mesmerized by the splendor of the glistening stared sky over the quiet sea and concluding the evening with a few other sisters and brothers from Australia who are barbequing freshly caught fish on the sand. Slumber time.