Escape the World Retreats
by
Robin Sparks
Escape the World - three words that like a siren song tugged at my
weary soul. Nine years of life on the road and a recent move to a
foreign country had taken their toll. In spite of a multitude of reasons
Not To Go, I went anyway, escaping the winter of Istanbul. I’d
been in Bali for one month, a virtual paradise in and of itself, when
I graduated to heaven by attending an “Escape the World”
retreat held at the Kumara resort in Ubud, Bali.
Located on the property of a Balinese prince, Kumara is tucked in
and around the jungle on the side of a ravine. From my room with its
windowed walls, I can neither hear nor see another human soul except
for a tiny dot on the horizon, which upon further inspection, is a
farmer leading his ducks through a rice paddy. Just outside my room
a tree bends over from the weight of several bunches of bananas. Larger
than life waxy leaves dance in the breeze, so brightly hued they appear
to be fake. It’s easy to see where the inspiration for the batik
textile on my bed came from – the patterns for Bali’s
famous ikat sprout all over the island. I stretch out on the hand-carved
Balinese bed enveloped by a white mosquito net on the balcony to try
something I don’t do very often. Nap.
Hand carved stone paths and steps meander, climb and fall next to
streams and tiny waterfalls and statues to the Gods and lead to the
dining hall, the yoga pavilion, and further down to the second pool.
The only sounds aside from rain pattering on leaves, a rooster crowing,
birds tweeting, frogs croaking, and geckos geckoing, is the deep resonant
gong, calling us to yoga twice daily, and the tinkling of a bell to
wake us at 6:30AM each morning. That’s right -- just me and
eight others in the jungle hailing from Holland, Jakarta, Australia,
France, Sweden, Singapore, and America. The staff quietly attend to
our every need and then some. When we return to our rooms each evening
after dinner, there is a fresh hibiscus blossom on our turned down
beds, candles on our balconies have been lit, and fresh incense placed
on our tables. Although it’s a five minute drive to the center
of Ubud, we may as well be a million miles away.
On our first evening we meet for tea and desert on the opulent terrace
of the residence of the prince. Manager and owner of ONEWORLD retreats,
Claude Chouinard and Iyan Yaspriyana, introduce themselves and give
us a preview of the week ahead. Claude tells us about Balinese rituals
and traditions so that we can incorporate them into the upcoming week.
Among a handful of upcoming activities that include not only yoga
and spa treatments, but forays into “real” Bali, we learn
that we will attend a purification ceremony at a Balinese temple tomorrow
night and are shown how to wrap our sarongs and secure them with temple
sashes. One sarong for the outside, and one to be worn inside for
bathing in the purifying spring waters. Claude encourages each of
us to come up with an intention for the week to think about at the
ceremony.
The next evening we go together to the temple and kneel behind a Balinese
priest. Waving his hands in the smoke of the incense and holding up
flower after flower in prayer clasped hands, he chants in Balinese.
Whatever he is asking for and whoever he is asking it for, thank you
very much. I am sure that I can use it and I accept it gratefully.
We then bathe in the holy waters of the temple pausing under each
of eleven fountains to make a wish before letting the healing waters
rush over us. There is a longer line than most behind the relationship
fountain.
Walking through waist-deep water sheathed in white linen and dipping
under its surface reminds me of my Christian upbringing - the significance
that water plays in cleansing and renewal. I’d been thinking
that 2009 would go down as the year that I began a new life. In the
year 2000 I began living abroad for months at a time in various countries
in order to write about those who leave home to find a new one, as
well as the stories of my own inner journey in search of a new tribe.
I’ve been telling friends that my book has gestated for nine
years and that it is time for it to be born. Two weeks ago, I laid
in the middle of a kundalini healing circle and saw an amphibious-like
shell falling away, and something raw, tender, and innocent, emerging.
Might the book be a metaphor for me?
The next morning at 6:45 am I am stepping gingerly on the beautiful
inlaid stones beneath my feet, shimmering wet after all night rain.
The smell of jasmine in the air, deep gong signaling the beginning
of another day. In the open air yoga pavilion overlooking the jungle,
Iyan guides us through meditation and yoga with his deeply resonant
voice, both soothing and eerily reminiscent of the chanting of the
priest last night. Ommmmmmmmm. Iiifff youuuuur miiiind (up
and note or two on the word mind) has gone awayyyyyy (up
again on last word) bring it baaaaaack (stretch out the word back
and bring it down a half note). One of the attendees has never before
done yoga. A couple are regular yoginis and the others, like me, are
on and off practitioners. Our different levels are seemingly irrelevant.
Iyan’s intuitive guidance offers precisely what each one of
us needs when we need it.
After yoga, we eat breakfast in the open-air (of course) dining room.
Black rice pudding with warm coconut cream. Fresh papaya, mango, pineapple,
banana, yogurt, home made crunchy muesli, and a delightful bread that
can best be described as crunchy, nutty, wholesome, slightly salty,
and yummy. These are but a few of the selections on the menu. Master
chef and raw organic cooking specialist, Cecilia Davidsson of Sweden,
owner of Curlyfood (www.curlyfood.se) is training the kitchen staff
this month. From the “Happy Salad” with its center of
finely chopped green olives, lemon zest, olive oil, black pepper,
naked cashews, and a side of tamari sauce, to the chocolate mousse
which is so delicious that we raid the refrigerator and then scrape
the remains from the mixing bowl (imagine our surprise when Cecilia
reveals the mousse is actually mashed avocado!), each meal throughout
the week is a mouth watering concoction of raw organic ingredients.
Cecilia says that for food to be truly nutritious, it is essential
that it not only be healthy, but that it be prepared with loving hands.
Fete acompli!
Early one morning, we drive up the summit of Mt. Batur and as the
sun’s first rays beam over the rim of the volcano, we do sun
salutations. Amazing. We gradually descend on mountain bikes past
gob-stoppingly gorgeous rice paddies and through villages where the
Balinese are going about their ordinary (albeit extraordinary to us)
daily lives.
When first informed about the day of silence, some of us are a bit
dubious. What, no talking? No phone calls or instant messaging? For
a whole 24 hours? Claude suggests we spend some of the time writing
affirmations. (but reading is not allowed). As it turns out it is
the day of silence that sets a transformative tone for the rest of
the week and we love it. I, for one, resolve to make a day of silence
a regular ritual in my life. One of the participants, Andra from Jakarta
says later, “It was the day of silence that changed my outlook
on life. On that day I found that I've been searching for happiness
in all the wrong places. That I have all the answers within me. It
was a real awakening.”
A bridge leads from the resort through the jungle into the rice fields
and eventually to one of the most unique, awe-inspiring, delicious,
healthy open air restaurants in Bali - Sari Organics – situated
next to the farm where it grows its own produce. There surrounded
by a palette of colors, smells and sounds that are pure bountiful
Bali, we laugh and relax and eat together, and I slurp through a hollow
tube of bamboo the best mango lassie I have ever tasted in my life.
The spa treatment rooms are open to views that simply have to be seen
and experienced to be believed. It is in this setting where we are
expertly and reverently kneaded and massaged. I have never and doubt
I will ever again experience anything like the three-hour Ayurvedic
massage that is the specialty of the trained masseuses at Kumara.
The pedicure and manicure, the hair cream bath, the head and shoulder
massage, the crown chakra anointing of oil, oh yes, those too are
divine. But the Ayurvedic massage not only puts me in a deep state
of relaxation, but brings up insights and melts away negativity. I
have long dreamed of living in Bali, and now here I am sitting smack
dab in the middle of my dream my feet being washed lovingly, my shoulders
being massaged looking out at what must be the most beautiful place
on the planet. The world is my mirror. What I see, both good and
bad, I create. It’s an analogy I’ve heard before.
But it is not until this day during this massage at this
moment as I sat here looking out at these scalloped mirrored rice
paddies that the words take root. The world is my mirror. OK…If
that’s the case, and I created this, I am one drop dead gorgeous
woman!
Instead of ruminating on all the things my boyfriend does that bug
me, I begin picturing the perfect loving partner all the way down
to his calf muscles. The person in our group who annoys me with her
deluge of derogatory comments about Americans? She too is my mirror
and all negative thoughts about her go the way of the knot in my back.
Wrapped in a sarong and holding a mug of hot ginger tea, I’m
seated on the terrace in a full-on post-massage glow thinking I
smell like a frangipani flower and I like it. I don’t ever
want to shower again! Someone emerges from an adjoining treatment
room and sits down next to me. Guess who? That’s right. Her
face glowing like an angel, we smile at each other, Goddess to Goddess.
Dutchess to American.
On the last morning we meet in the yoga pavilion to create from palm
leaves Balinese offerings like the ones we have seen piled up on altars
and stone Gods all over the island. Seated in a circle, we watch in
silence as Iyan burns the pieces of paper we have given him which
contain lists of things we want to eliminate from our lives. He covers
the ashes with flower petals and takes the basket to the river. We
watch from above as he first prays and then releases the petals and
ashes, allowing them to flutter on the currents down to the river
below to be carried out to sea. They back up behind a branch that
has fallen across the river, but I turn and walk away peacefully,
confident that it is but a temporary obstacle that will soon be washed
away on the current.
The Escape the World retreat touches parts of your heart and soul
that a boot camp-like yoga retreat simply can’t reach. It is
more than a meditation workshop, where one spends 99% of their time
in their heads. And it is much more than its delicious healthy inventive
meals and mesmerizing massages. The Escape the World Retreat is a
buffet for all the senses. And isn’t balance what the body and
soul craves nearly as much as food and water?
Want to Escape the World yourself? Go to www.oneworldretreats.com



