5. “Home”

Listen to those lovely birds singing…  I snuggle into the pillows a little deeper…  It’s so peaceful lying here…  Wait a minute.  There aren’t birds chirping outside my hotel room window here in Beijing.  I sit up in bed, feeling confused.  Where am I?  Oh yes…  How could I forget?  I’m in Bali, about to start a seven-day yoga retreat…  I was in Beijing yesterday…  My eyes scan my spacious room and rest upon on a large window at the foot of the bed.  Through it, I can see the soft light of the sunrise on the horizon.  The light shines on the terraces of the rice field and the tall palm trees.  I climb out of bed to get a better look.  I open the window and am greeted with the pleasant aroma of the early morning air.  I slowly take in a deep breath and smell the sweetness of flowers with a hint of breakfast — it smells delicious.  I can hear women talking from an area below my room, and I figure that must be the kitchen.  Suddenly feeling really hungry, I dress and walk barefooted through Michael Franti’s homey Soulshine Bali Hotel.  The soothing colors, along with large vases of local Balinese flowers, oversized wooden furniture and throw pillows invites guests to sink in and stay for a while.  It’s all very welcoming…  I walk through the large communal area and feel the soft breeze that’s drifting through the room.  It brings in the aroma of incense, and I try to wrap my brain around how amazingly tranquil this place is.  The idea of never leaving pops into my head, though I know I have only a limited amount of time to enjoy this space before flying back to the United States.  Pushing that reality to the back of my mind, I continue walking toward the aromas.  I walk down a small set of steps with lotus ponds on each side, and my presence frightens a frog that plunges into the water.  At the bottom of the landing I can clearly see a small swimming pool nestled into the garden.  Next to that is an open space with a table set for eight.  A small bouquet of yellow frangipani flowers sits in the center of the table and completes the scene.  “Good morning,” a woman says to me as she stirs what looks like pancake batter.  “Good morning,” I say.  “You hungry?”  “Yes, I am.  Thank you.”  “Did you arrive late last night?”  “Yes, really late.  From China.  There were flight delays and it took 17 hours to get here.”  “Too much for me.  Long day,” she says.  “Yes.  Am I the first one up?”  “You are.  Would you like to eat now?  We’re making pancakes with banana and coconut, omelets with avocado and tomato — and here,” she hands me a glass of green juice, “This is freshly squeezed lime juice with ginger.”  “Thank you,” I say and take a sip.  “Wow, this is amazing.”  She smiles, continuing to stir the pancake batter.  “I just squeezed it this morning.  Please help yourself to some of the tropical fruit salad.”  I do as she suggests and take a seat at the table.  My eyes pan the wall of palm trees that stretches in front of me.  Then I look over my left shoulder to where the morning sun is warming the rice field.  I’m in awe of the beauty.  “Would you like coffee or tea?”  The question brings my attention back to the dining area and the seven empty chairs around me.  “Tea would be nice.  Thank you.”  I’m curious about the other women who will be joining me on this yoga retreat.  The only person I knew was the woman who invited me and then decided to not come because it was too far to travel.  As I sit here, in paradise, I think it was well worth the effort.