#writerlife: 2015

Bali Bound: Day 8

Day 8 Waking up in Ubud is unreal. By now, I have totally leaned into the culture here. I know that the smiles everyone gives me is genu...

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Bali Bound: Days 6-7

Day 6 It's our last day in Jimbaran. The beach stretches on for miles, the tepid pool water is as blue as the sky (which is almost de...

Today is the 14th anniversary of the September 11, 2001 attacks.

There are many days in American history that have redefined the nation and have altered the course of its history. Some are wonderful: the moon landing, the election of our first black president, the abolition of slavery, the declaration of so many rights for women and minorities, and so on. Some are horrible: the attacks on Pearl Harbor, the assassinations of Presidents Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy, the creation of the Japanese internment camps and Jewish ghettos, the establishment of slavery, among others.

The main difference between September 11 and those other historical moments is that it happened during the lifetime of most living Americans. It feels like it happened only a few years ago and that we, as a nation, are still in the process of recovering from it. The wounds are still open.

September 11 has become the one day of the year that the majority of Americans, especially in the tri-state area surrounding New York, finally come together and agree on something: Never Forget. We think back to the images that were burned into our brains as the flames rose from the buildings, we think about the loved ones who are no longer here, we lament the care-free days from before the attacks. On the other days of the year (especially in proximity to presidential elections), liberals and conservatives are flinging verbal grenades at each other, tearing apart the foundations of each other's deeply held belief systems and dismissing them as asinine or arbitrary. We can't seem to find common ground, even on things for which there is empirical evidence or established traditional truths.

But, I'm not saying this is a bad thing. We live in a post-September 11 world wherein we still have the freedom of expression; the freedom of dissent. We live in a world where the Supreme Court rules that love wins, and that people like Kim Davis are able to rail against those rulings (fortunately to the consequence of jail time in that case). We have the freedom to disagree, to open conversations that are, albeit uncomfortable, usually productive to our political belief system.

To anyone who knows me, it's no secret that I would never support anyone denying rights to any human. I've spent much of my post-September 11 life developing strong political views that essentially come down to a person's right to make a decision for him or herself without being subject to anyone else's imposing moral compass. There are plenty of things I would personally never choose to do, but I vote to legalize those things because, baring someone doing harm to another human life, I don't feel that my personal opinions should have any influence on the outcome of another person's life. I would never assume that I know all the that facts that inform someone else's decisions, and therefore I cannot make those decisions. I do, however, respect the hell out of people for being brave enough to stand up and decide those things if that is what is best for them.

I also respect the hell out of the system that we still hold near and dear to our American hearts that allows us to debate these controversial issues. I am not the only person who has ever had a knee-jerk reaction of "that is so wrong!" before I stop to consider perspectives outside of my own, and I think that's okay. As long as I keep the "that is so wrong" directed only to my personal choices and leave my judgement out of another person's choices, it's okay. And maybe someday my life will change and I may choose that "wrong" thing - who knows what will happen?

Our skyline may have changed, but our American values haven't. September 11 was one of the most horrible days that has happened in American history. Everyone I know who was alive at the time has what is called a "flash bulb" memory of it: it's as if someone took a picture of your life the instant the towers were hit and we can remember exactly where we were, what we were doing, and how we reacted. It is important that we Never Forget. It is also important that we take pride in ourselves as a nation for rising above, for recovering, and for retaining the simple freedoms on which our country was founded. Never Forget, and never stop fighting.

#writerlife

September 11, 2015

Today is the 14th anniversary of the September 11, 2001 attacks. There are many days in American history that have redefined the nation an...

#writerlife

Bali Bound: Day 5

IT'S BALI, BABY! Oh yeah, this is what I'm talking about: it's BOAT day! It's real down-and-dirty, resort-style living to...

Finally, I was waking up in Bali. It had taken about 63 hours door to door to get here, but I had already forgotten about everything.

My happiness was dashed, though, as I heard rain pouring down outside my window. I couldn't remember exactly, but I was pretty sure this wasn't supposed to be the rainy season, so maybe the shower would pass. I opened the window to evaluate the storm, and to my surprise, it was actually just a fountain outside my window. It's gorgeous here.

Somehow, despite the insane travel pace, I wasn't jet lagged at all. It's about 7am and I am ready to live my Best Bali Life. Andrew, Steph, PJ, and I all head down to the beach (right across the street from our villa) to go for a run. There, Andrew and PJ probably ran 4-5 miles or so, while Steph and I ran for like 20 minutes before giving up to pet the sand dogs along the beach and take pictures of the cow plows:

We then met up for breakfast in the lobby and met our tour guide, Dhana, for the first time. I've never traveled with a guide before, so my first instinct was to roll my eyes and lament the cultural experience I would undoubtedly be missing by being trotted around the country in a car. I think everyone in our group felt like that, and Dhana seemed to get that.

The first thing we had planned was to go see a famous healer in Ubud. Because being prepared is definitely not a thing I tend to do, I didn't even notice this until he showed up and started telling us about the 2 hour drive to get there. We immediately vetoed this plan: not only was there no way we were getting back into a car, but our second hotel was right near Ubud so it was just as easy to stop at the healer on the way. We won ourselves a half day of unplanned freedom and immediately headed to the pool.

I got some writing done while the rest of those jokers splashed around. Hello, heaven.

The morning turned into one of those lazy afternoons where no matter how much time you have, it isn't enough and you wind up running late (or is that just my life?). We met Dhana to head up to our first Temple, Uluwatu Temple, and watch a sunset Kecak Dance. The Temple was amazing:

The views are crazy and there are monkeys running around all over the place. We were warned not to make eye contact with them, because they can be quite naughty, and will steal your sunglasses and, apparently, the shoes off your feet. One monkey jumped right on a lady and ripped the glasses from her face and took off with them. He was chased down by some official-looking monkey chasers.

We then went over to the theatre area to watch the famous Kecak Dance.

The dance was... strange.

There was an a capella, chanting chorus that acted like waves:

a demon:

a white monkey:

and a princess and an exiled prince and something about a king who is going to die and whoever he gets pregnant first will be the queen and her son will inherit the kingdom and woods and kidnapping and rescue?

If you look online, this thing gets RAVE reviews. The costumes were pretty impressive and the story is very famous in Bali, but the dancing/storytelling clearly came from a tradition that was difficult to understand from a western perspective. I really wanted to get it, but I definitely didn't. In retrospect, I think that if I had watched this dance after spending some more time in Bali, it would have made a lot more sense. For my first experience with Balinese culture, it was hard to tell if this was genuine or tourist-trappy.

We were all pretty tired, so maybe that's also why we didn't get it. I mean, it takes energy to look this good:

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Bali Bound: Day 4

Finally, I was waking up in Bali. It had taken about 63 hours door to door to get here, but I had already forgotten about everything. M...

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Bali Bound: Day 8

Bali Bound: Days 6-7

September 11, 2015

Bali Bound: Day 5

Bali Bound: Day 4

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