Yesterday, while my husband and I were having tea and cake with our good friends down the road, we got into a debate that could be summarized as "Why Bother?"

Our friend exclaimed, "If global warming is inevitable, and people are in thrall to the lies perpetrated by Fox News, and drivers are back to buying SUVs, which burn so much fuel... why bother trying to be a good environmentalist?"

He and I have had this argument before. I believe that we must try unfailingly to act according to what we believe, because doing so gives meaning, beauty, and even joy to our lives. Acting in rhythm with a conviction, we are wholly embodied in our task, and that task provides a light and a direction amidst darkness and chaos.

As Albert Camus wrote in The Myth of Sisyphus, "The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill one's heart." Although Camus would disagree with my own choice of words, I would call it a sacred obligation to struggle toward those heights.

The  tradition of assessing the past year as a way of clearing space for the year to come takes a colorful, lively, and replenishing form in Bali. In my annual Bali From Within trip in March of this year, we participated in this three-day celebration called Nyepi.

On the first day, around mid-afternoon everyone in the village goes to the (Hindu) temple. Then joined by the village gamelan orchestra and led by children proudly bearing torches, the whole village joins in chasing the monsters out of town. The monsters, ogoh-ogoh, are large and inventively scary figures that people have worked on for weeks in advance, crafting them out of papier maché or other materials .

On Nyepi itself, everyone stays in the family compound, so the monsters will think the island is deserted and will stay away. Even the international airport in Denpasar is closed. People abstain from fire, both the fire used to cook food and the inner personal fires of anger and sex. No one works. The day is spent reflecting on the year past and resolving to do better in the year to come.

In a few villages, including Munduk in the mountains of north Bali, where our group spends the holiday, the next day begins very early, long before the sun is up, when people start cooking food in small braziers on the street. Children shoot off fireworks, teen bands play pop music on their boom boxes, the metallic rhythms of gamelan ring out, and the smell of cooking fills the air. The mood is festive, communal, and joyfully chaotic.

I love the big, noisy ceremony of chasing the monsters out of town. It offers a way to banish everyone's personal monsters as well, and to do it in the company of the entire village. That done, there is space and time for reflection, quiet. And then, gradually, the fire returns to the cleared and renewed spaces both within and without.

Have you seen the wonderful video of the flash mob singing the "Hallelujah Chorus" from Handel's Messiah? People are chatting and eating in a food court at Seaway Mall in Welland, Ontario. It's just before the holiday season and someone is playing "Jingle Bells" on an organ. A woman talks on her cell phone. People are getting cash out of the ATM. Suddenly the woman with the cell phone stands and sings out, "Hallelujah!" Gradually others join in. The diners/audience are enchanted... and you will be too.

The video was made by Alphabet Photography of Niagara Falls, Ontario as a thank-you to their customers. They worked for months in advance with the mall and with the operators of the restaurants at the food court, rehearsing the choir, secreting cameras in plants and other spots, and arranging microphones to get a good-quality recording. The YouTube video has already had more than 27 million hits.

When you read this newsletter, I will be guiding a vision quest and camel caravan in the Sahara Desert with my co-guide, Sabina Wyss, 12 vision questers from four countries, and about 15 Tuareg guides. The Tuareg, the nomadic people of the northern Sahara, are an ancient matriarchal culture with a love of poetry, a keen sense of play, and a code of honor that guides every aspect of their lives.

Three times a day, they make shai, a special tea made out of black tea, sugar, and whatever tasty herbs are in the vicinity. Each shai occasion entails three drinks of the tea, which is remixed and the ingredients rebalanced with every serving. The first, say the Tuareg, is bitter like life, the second is strong like love, and the third is sweet like death.

The November/December issue of Spirituality and Health includes a one-page article about Radical Joy for Hard Times!

Speaking of Spirituality and Health, Utne Reader recently posted its Independent Press Awards for 2009. On the list of the editors' top ten favorite magazines is Spirituality and Health, and in their citation for this choice, Utne writes about "imaginative articles and essays" such as "Rituals for Wastelands." This article of mine was published in September 2009 and you can read it online.