As far as flying objects go it wasn’t that uncommon. Air collisions with cigarette ash, volcanic ash, plastic wrappers, spit, gravel dust, carcinogenic lead based fuel fumes and all manner of winged beasties is a very common and increasingly unavoidable occurrence when riding a motorized two wheel vehicle on Bali roads and pothole ridden byways.
Goggles and masks of endless variations are becoming not only fashionable but required protective wear in and on an environment that has a more crowded airspace and detritus laden ground space than ever before.
Getting pelted is simply the price you pay and vigilance is the unconscious action dominating every ride. Riding without eye protection or visor down option is a personal preference; consequences either way are plainly obvious. Carrying on a conversation with a passenger, apart from an added degree of concentration, is also fraught with a high degree of oral infiltration from all manner and matter.
Having already and very thankfully avoided most flying stuff, being glance blown by a few and after losing a spoonful of tear laden liquid grit; another journey approached its destination.
Kombi sized flying bugs are always lurking in the air and back of one’s mind. A head, face, body collision with a hairy hissing squirming insect is never ever a pleasant occurrence, remembering that a modest 50 KPH impact is immediately doubled to 100 KPH on the strike zone.
I heard it before I saw it, direct line buzzing, closing in fast. Instinct dictated an unconscious rapid chin in, mouth shut, eyes down, diversion movement. As the winged buzzing beast impacted my helmet, just above and right smack bang between where my eyes had just been, I knew that I had escaped a painful, dangerous and gross encounter.
Hearing or detecting buzzing in your ears can indicate a myriad of maladies, especially as age creeps up, so initially I gave no attention to the buzz, plus the near impact was still loud and clear in my presence. When it didn’t go away, I feared that forgetting to check the helmet had bitten me badly; crawlies do like to nest in moist warm headwear. Of course it could be mechanical bits on the bike, so all was checked ticked and consciously laid to rest.
Something suggested that I should wobble my head, which from my passengers perspective probably looked like a seizure induced version of the famous Balinese Kecak Dance. The second side to side wobble didn’t silence the buzz and it was at that point that the true horror of what it could possibly be, hit.
Pulling to a full stop from 60 KPH isn’t easy under any circumstance. On pothole gravel sprinkled moist roads, it’s insane.
The creature, obviously due to the cessation of forward momentum, was free to descend from its wedged position between visor and helmet. Reaching frantically with quivering fingers to unclick the chin strap was never going to be fast enough.
Being eye to eye with a pissed off hissing hairy insect is never OK.
Thankfully as it hung between my eyes, it decided to flee, rather than horrify its captor any more than it already had.
It’s never going to be the way you expect, it can’t be, seriously not. Think about it, although that’s a major component in anything actually not turning out as you expect. It’s not to say that getting close to expectation is totally out of reach, but even that carries with it a degree of dissatisfaction and disappointment.
Living without expectation for the majority of us is impossible. What is there to live for without the expectation that our individual existence will have ongoing continuance? It’s very beat by beat forward momentum assured. Throw in a tsunami of other expectations about self and others, about things that are always beyond our control. Without realizing or knowing, awareness of what basic life could or should be is jettisoned before any chance of take-off.
Most people live their whole lives with a gnawing awareness that their lives are full of dissatisfaction, yet expecting things to get better the longer they live. We fill time with expensive expectations, only to find emptiness. Longing and dawning shallowness can emerge as each aging milestone clunks over.
What’s the only expectation we are collectively entitled to, only inevitable sure expectation? What’s the only should have and can have expectation, instantly accessible moment by moment? That we will all die.
That’s it, that’s all it takes, to remove, sanitise and sterilize all those time consuming and in most cases irrelevant expectations. Deep awareness and acceptance of death before its happening has a by-product of putting everything in perspective, from that position. A diagnosis of impending death, certifiable surety, has the capacity for accelerating that perspective way beyond what we can mundanely think in our avoidance and fear of death normal day to day states.
Being becomes the unavoidable reality in the reality of what is coming to us all. For those who are ‘lucky’ to have time at the end of their life, being takes absolute precedence over expectations. Being reverse kick starts expectations into the order they really should be.
Do no harm, love for all beings and appreciate, become just a few expectations that arise as commonalities.
Learn now before it’s virtually too late. That’s the lesson that those, who are where we all will be, can simply teach.
Start simply being aware. Stop expecting more than our collective common basic needs.
The Ubud vibe has certainly changed. Maybe it’s time was up. Destiny, Karma and that entire hippy stuff?
Have the Balifornians, Ubudians and all those old, Eat, Don’t Pay, My Shit Don’t Stink lot, decided to move out? Looking hard, searching far, for a brighter greener drier patch. Escaping endless torrential rain, leaving behind a totally tapped out Om energy depleted environment. Are they packing up their crates of crystals, tucking their Yoni (source of all life) in tight, and rolling up their collective meditation cushions and yoga mats? Are they heading to softer greener energies where equilibrium may be mined in full moon cycles? There are certainly enough non-members of the daily detox, those non-believers of the need to clean up and in and around my unclean unsavoury insides brigade, who do believe the season of love and anal bleaching has passed. Unfortunately it appears that no one has done an in-depth out depth or any depth study, so findings and conclusions are virtually in the cloud at this time.
Or could it be that Ubud is simply moving on and re-balancing? Maybe moving forward to a more reflective past? And maybe just maybe that's not such a bad happening. Maybe just simply taking a breath to reassess.
Gunung Agung, that majestic imposing scary detoxes your insides for free super volcano, certainly cannot be discounted when it comes to reading the vibe. The fallout, apart from shitting oneself when the reality becomes reality, has certainly dampened down spirts and awakened a whole lot more on an Island full of all that ethereal energy. If, and again there’s no firm data yet, Agung has indeed vaporized the vibe, then its warm up performance is shockingly impressive indeed.
Vibe really is what Bali feeds on. Vaping on ash under the threat of vaporization could be a factor in people moving out of the area possibly affected and infected. Those who feel they are connected to the earth, usually feel how the vibe is blowing. Like walking barometers they will not stay where winds of change are in process.
Especially if that air is toxic, naturally or not.
It’s becoming very select indeed. Slyness, sleight of mouth, crooked, criminal, charlatan, creepy salesperson shiftiness etcetera, you know the sort, been around since selling Neanderthal knickknacks.
However, this club is culturing a complete planetary witch’s brew of destruction and they don’t actually care. On a world that demands instant gratification these fundamentalists offer a strictly disciplined religion. Consume as much as thou want and we shall supply thou with as much as thou need. The Money God has arrived and its designated group of disciples has handed down the Holy hell handbook just for thou. Because YOU most righteously deserve to satisfy as many wants needs and desires as you desire need and want. These dastardly artists of consume at all costs disaster mismanagement have superseded anything their ancient snake oil gurus could have ever thought up.
However, the explosion of Global Media is creating shock-waves and as it continues to snare the disgusting, arrogant, belligerent, wicked, evil, heinous, villainous, diabolical, fiendish, barbarous, cruel, black, dark, rotten, vile, monstrous, abominable, despicable, degenerate and sordid, the new old age club of Global destructors has nowhere to hide. The future masses will want heads on spikes; it’s always been this way.
So for those who are so damn good at selling sugar coated shit claiming that they are egoless angelic purveyors of righteousness and selfless servants of humanity, your game is up.
Try selling looking over your shoulder.
Observing whats real is becoming increasingly difficult. This site is my view, my perception and my commentary on what I believe to be real, from my own unique position.