The Smell Of Burning Trash... by Zachary J. — transporting oneself, bali, my spiritual home | Gather: "As I sit on the computer, trying to figure out the nuances of starting some sort of revenue generating activities to fund my adventures around the world, My mind wanders....
I can almost smell the burning trash, feel the hot tropical sun beating down on my back, see the indian ocean's raw power disguised as an incoming wave, and feel the salty burn in my eyes that is sitting in the lineup at Bingin Beach, Bali. This is my home: not temporal (at least not yet) and it isn't where I recieve my mail, but it is my home nonetheless. It is my spiritual home. when last I was there, in 2002, I left a small part of my soul there; floating in the lineup, looking at the perfect left hand reef waves, and communing with the resident sea cows and local surfers. Every once in a while this soul nugget awakens, catches a beautiful wave, peers out the almond eye of that emerald dream room, or breathes a bit of Bali's omnipresent wet-burning-exotic smell (if you have been there, I am sure you can picture it with your mind's nose), and I am instantly taken back there myself. That is what happened ten minutes ago while I was sitting here at my computer, and that is how I came to write this article.
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