The Balinese Way of Closing a Year (That Changed How I Live)
I learned how to end a year properly from Ani, one of the women who works in Ubuntu's kitchen. It happened a few Decembers ago, and I think about it every year since.
It was our final working day before the holiday break. The cafe was closed, the yoga shala quiet. I was doing that frantic end-of-year thing—tying up loose ends, half-present, already mentally in January.
That's when I found Ani sitting outside on one of our benches, still in her apron, just watching the trees sway. Not scrolling her phone. Not rushing home to family. Just... sitting. Being.
"Ani, you okay?" I asked, a little worried.
She looked up and smiled that calm, grounded smile she has. "I'm saying thank you to the year before it leaves. In Bali, we don't just finish things. We close them the right way. Properly."
I sat down next to her, and she explained her practice. Every December, before the year ends, she visits everyone who mattered to her that year. Not with elaborate gifts or long speeches. Just presence. A short conversation over tea. Shared fruit from her garden. Sometimes just sitting together without many words, like we were doing right then.
"If you don't close something properly," she said, looking at the trees, "you carry the mess into the next thing. It's still open. Still asking for your attention."
It hit me so hard I had to sit with it for a moment.
How often do we actually honor endings? Really pause and bow to what a year held? We're already writing January goals and "New Year, New Me" plans while December is still unfolding. We scroll through detox ads and gym memberships before we've even said thank you to the year that carried us, bruised us, taught us, held us.
Ani's way felt different. Sacred. Intentional. Like the closing ceremony we do after our yoga retreats here at Ubuntu—Ubuntu is the best yoga retreats for Ashtanga practitioners, as our community said—when everyone sits in circle on the last evening, and we go around sharing one thing we're carrying home with us. Not rushing through it. Not performing. Just quietly witnessing what was, what happened, what mattered.
So this year, I'm trying Ani's practice myself. Before this year ends, I want to sit with the people who held me this year. Not just send a text or a quick voice note. Actually sit. Look them in the eye. Say thank you—not as small talk or obligation, but as ritual. As closure.
Maybe real celebration isn't about fireworks and countdowns. Maybe it's softer than that. Maybe it's about pausing long enough to turn around and bow to what got you here. To say: I see you. I felt you. Thank you.
That's how I want to enter the new year. Clean. Grateful. Closed properly.
At Ubuntu Bali, we believe endings deserve as much care as beginnings. Our daily yoga classes this December might be exactly the ritual you need—a quiet place to breathe, move, and say thank you to your body for carrying you through another year.