“Tat tvam asi.”
This is one of the last things he said to me before he fell…
I met the founders my first week at the Yayasan (foundation/English School) in Tulumben, Bali. I was there to teach mindfulness and meditation. On my first day, I had the opportunity to talk to Wayan. She and her husband Kadek started this school dedicated to giving the children of this area English skills that would keep them in school, give them opportunities for college and/or jobs in the tourism industry where English is a must. Without this Yayasan, most of these children would stop their education around middle school and go to work, but with the promise of a better life they stay in school.
I asked Wayan what motivated her to do this. She told me her story and of the loss her father when she was young. Her mother had been a capable, bright, strong and somewhat culturally defiant woman in a society that demanded their women be demure and obedient to husband and tradition. When her father died, her mother wilted. This culture does not look kindly on widows as their fate is associated with misfortune and loss of status. Wayan said that her father’s greatest wish was that his girls be educated and her mother saw to that. Wayan and Kadek want the same for their three girls and to provide that opportunity for the children of their community, both boys and girls while relaxing gender-related oppressive traditions and keeping their generative culture very much alive. On first meeting, a hug isn’t what usually would happen but Wayan hugged me out of compassion for a shared experience. I am just really fortunate that in my own culture, I am not treated so unkind.
That week, I had also sat with Kadek and he told me about his culture and how they experience and understand death. He explained the ceremony they hold to release the spirit from the body and bless it to move on to the afterlife. He said from a very young age most children engage with the dead body as it is taken to the home to be cleaned and cared for. He showed me pictures of the ceremonies complete with decomposing and decomposed bodies. As he told me how the soul is not there anymore, it is just a body, I wasn’t scared to look. I needed to look, it was time to understand the cycle of life in this way more than just intellectually. I was comfort-ed.
The next week, I had the opportunity to sit with Kadek again. We talked about meditation. I wanted to be sure that I was conveying this practice without the influence of American values. I had been curious to know if this would translate to another culture the way it translates to Ameri-cans. My experience at this Yayasan had already confirmed for me that this is a human practice, and helps all of us, no matter the culture. Kadek reinforced this for me with one of the last things he said to me before he fell – “Tat tvam asi.” In Sanskrit, this means “You are that”. His translation was “I am you, and you are me.” I didn’t know that he was telling me exactly what I would need to remember 20 minutes later.
The kids started screaming and crying, volunteers and teachers were running everywhere; to get Wayan, to get a car, to get help, to do something, anything! Calling an ambulance isn’t some-thing that one can do in this rural area. Kadek had fallen from the mango tree in a freak accident. My daughter (who was interning with the foundation) was right there and saw it all. As I saw her frantically moving the kids away from the scene, those that had seen what happened and those who wanted to see, I knew I had to look. Normally, I would avoid looking since there were plenty of people there who had sprung into action, but this time was different. I knew I had to see what she had seen if I was going to be able to help her. The man I had just been talking to was laying on his back on the pavement, his eyes open, blood and spinal fluid seeping from un-der his head and he wasn’t moving. It was shocking. Wayan flew by me screaming his name, sliding in beside him and holding his face in her hands.
I could feel the tears coming as the sight of it all began to sink in. I can’t have just witnessed Wayan being widowed, those little girls can’t loose their father, my thoughts were racing because that was my story and her mother’s story. These were the conversations we had just had and this fear was front and center. Then one of the foundation leaders comes to me and says, “Angela, all of the kids are shaking and crying, can you lead us in a meditation to help everyone calm down?” I said, “Of course.” Tears would have to wait, but what could I say, what could I do that would help them? Pak Kadek (Pak is an honorary term for a male who is revered) was like a father to them. I heard my teachers voice, “breathe”. I took some deep breaths and then Kadek’s voice came back to me, “Tat tvam asi”, I am you and you are me. It wouldn’t be enough to believe this now, I had to know it as Truth.
I ask the students to take a deep breath, and then another, and another. I tell them that their thoughts are energy and that they are connected to Kadek through the bonds of love and nothing can ever break that. We are going to breathe, calm our bodies and our minds. When we meditate, we will all together see Kadek healthy and happy, we will feel the joy of that and we will share that energy with him. I lead them to a silent meditation. When we open our eyes, the children are still and calm and some are smiling. I ask them to remember this when they think of Kadek because he needs our strength and our joy now more than ever.
This is what we did during the days where news of his condition was spotty and conflicting. Finally, with the news that he had surgery to relieve the bleeding in his brain and he was lucid and talking, I could process what happened.
I don’t tell this story for us to claim any part in Kadek’s healing (a long road ahead still), I tell this story in humility and gratitude for a practice that doesn’t just change how I see everything, but helps me see things I could have never seen before.
When we couldn’t do anything, we led ourselves to stillness and in stillness we found peace. We helped ourselves, and in helping ourselves, I believe we help Kadek and everyone else. We won’t get everything we want in this life, I should know, but if we are connected to ourselves, we connect to each other and we can find a way forward, in support of one another and in joy through this cycle of life.
In service and gratitude to the foundation, school founders, teachers and children of this Yayasan and most importantly to my teacher and my friend Ranjit Deora.
*The names have been changed to protect privacy of the individuals involved.
