Welcome to the 82nd issue of B.

Modern society has conditioned humans to the cycle of perpetual adaptation. They adjust to evolving work paradigms, family structures, and social hierarchies? not to mention rising generations, new cultures, and emerging technologies. We take it for granted that adaptability is the ultimate survival skill. This holds especially true for urban dwellers, who remain invariably admired through the ages. Concepts that are largely considered virtues like convenience and efficiency, to name a couple, originated to satisfy the demands of city life. Likewise, for millennia, cities have peddled grandiose dreams and ideals to acculturate residents. Unfortunately, though, this never-ending chain of forced adaptation overruns our ability to raise questions. The momentum pushes us to just keep moving forward. But an unquestioning life is nothing more than simple survival because to be alive is to question who you are as a person and why you continue to live on.

This issue introduces Bali, a place where asking profound existential questions is the norm. It’s easy to find glowing testimonies of the island professing that this is the place to ruminate and discover answers to life questions. Countless also share a similar story of embarking on a short trip to Bali, only to settle down on the island and never look back. A popular tourist destination located among over 10,000 Indonesian islands, it’s fascinating to see how Bali is consumed like a religion. Truth be told, Bali may very well be the only place on earth where people can experience both a spiritual awakening and an incredible creative energy that never disconnects from the rest of the world?an assertion evidenced by the island’s status as a surfing and yoga mecca. Unlike most physical activities that condition the body and mind, yoga and surfing introduce unique spiritual challenges. Case in point, surfing teaches humans how to let go in the face of vast ocean, and yoga engages practitioners on a journey to self-discovery.

Known as a paradise for yoga and surfing retreats that also has fascinating cultures beyond tourism, Bali’s reputation is not all owing to the natural beauty. In fact, most people B met in Bali waxed lyrical about the all-embracing quality of the Balinese people. Other places that B has covered for city issues? namely Berlin, Portland, and Bangkok?also attract talented newcomers because they accept the new and the diverse. Such inclusivity is one of the greatest values that a good city offers. And it seems that Bali tops this list of highly inclusive cities. People are free to stay and leave as they please, and a veteran island dweller of two or more years can mingle easily with a visitor on a two-week stopover. One traveler on a brief sojourn to Bali said that it was like a “home you can come back to whenever you want.”

If foreigners can move around and feel like a place rivals their home turf in terms of comfort, it’s without a doubt that there’s more than national tourism promotion policies at work. And that’s why Bali continues to be praised ardently as a singular destination. Along with inclusion, many point to a great sense of balance in Bali and among the Balinese people. In this sense, balance is how a society can flexibly interact with external stimuli while retaining a strong cohesive identity. This sense of balance can be earned only by those prioritizing self-preservation. Going back to the idea of human conditioning, the Balinese practice constant self-reflection thanks to powerful forces of nature and millennia-old religious practices. It seems natural, then, that city dwellers accustomed to being pushed along by external stimuli would find Bali original and fresh. Returning the body and mind back to an ultimate zero point is to regain a center of gravity. A digital nomad B interviewed in Bali offered a great line about this state of balance: “It can be said that rebels who want to control their lives visit Bali. [···] Then, they realize that they can do pretty much whatever they want.”

Eunsung Park
Content & Editorial Director