i am in bali. specifically Ubud. being here is very inspiring. i now want to write a bestseller called “Eat, Pay, Leave — One man’s search to avoid spiritual enlightenment.” Don’t worry, it would not be about me, or at least it would likely not be the actual position i was advocating or theme of the book. but spending enuf time w european and other white people does have its corrosive effect on one’s opinion of why we’re here and whether it’s such a good idea. saw the house the author of “Eat, Pray, Love” stayed in being offered for rent on a hippy bulletin board (of which there are no other kinds around here, same set of offerings as Puna or Kauaʻi, or SF or Oaktown, complete w lots of spiritual guidance, Ecstatic Dance once a week, healers selling their healing…). Ad said: stay in the actual eat pray love house! so i would stay there and be as laconic and ironic as possible, taking apart the very things i love in order to resurrect them. i guess i should actually read the book first, before trying to use it to cash in on and likewise showcase my ambivalence toward enlightenment.

i am really careening from having been a monk. in a way, i miss it. it was the most sincere thing i have ever done, but deep down i wondered how long i would stay a monk. 10 days was a good number. the abbot said there was no commitment, and many people just do a week. i could handle the 4:30 am, the no food after 12, the no lying/stealing/killing and 200+ other rules — it wasn’t really that oppressive. the no swimming no motorcycle riding was hard. and letting go of my notions of romantic love perhaps even harder. after 10 days, I unmonked pretty completely, but now it’s all coming around and i’m wondering how to integrate the monk with the monkey. being in ubud is perfect for all this, because this place really is amazing for what it is. it’s beautiful, green, tropical, healthy, clean (i cannot believe it is so clean), inexpensive, kind hearted, and really about healing and integrating. i love it. i have a bit of the feeling here i got when i finally made it to osho commune. as an 80 year old man told me when i got there, “welcome to spiritual kindergarden.”

anyway, i hope to share more on how it felt and how i looked at it from going to being a monk to not being a monk. but anyway man there are a lot of tourists here! it’s real, the art is real, the vibe is real, but it’s very world blendo and it’s kind of built for the tourists. and it’s nice! there are literally hundreds and hundreds of beautiful (and i mean actually aesthetically pleasing with super toney/groovy hipster designs and designer fabrics) restaurants, shops, etc. the whole island is like tropical art camp.  great fruit.  lots of detail work. nonetheless, rather than spend the next 2 months here, i want to go to borneo. i want to trudge through the jungle. then i can write a book called “from burma to borneo” – which is good because neither of these places use that name any more.  so somehow that will imply that i also managed to visit the places that these places _were_, but that are still there if you can find them. nah. that’s dumb. more than anything though, i really want to write. i would gladly give up a limb or at least an appendage to be able to do it in a way that did not torture myself or others.  i guess that means i am willing to torture myself in order to not torture myself. the attempt at which, despite the fact that i end up doing both, has been a longstanding theme.

it’s 1:26 am so heading to bed, tho this internet cafe is still rocking. i think i am now a buddhist except i really don’t like (or at least feel like i know) buddha all that much. i miss jesus! where’s our touchy feely jesus? i mean i like the 4 noble truths ok, and the 8 fold path is a good idea too, but it’s all very cool. buddha’s ok actually; it’s the ist part i can’t stand. isms creep me out. maybe i need to start a new religion. axilism. first rule: everybody has to name it after themselves. please comment on my blog.