Why do cocks fight in the relaxed island of Bali?
What it takes to make poor creatures fight each other
I've lived more than half a year in a guesthouse in Bali. The owner is a big-hearted man—always smiling, easy to laugh, unfazed by pressure. When staff weren't available to make my breakfast, he cooked it himself—double the size, with a wide grin.
He has a small parrot in a cage. He used to have a giant lizard in another. Outside the city, he has many roosters in cages. Every week or so he takes one to the arena, fastens a razor-sharp blade to its leg, and places a bet. The birds fight to the death. The payout depends on perceived strength—5/5 vs. 3/5, etc. The house takes 10%.
When I asked him why they fight, he said: when roosters roam free, they don't fight. But if you cage them for a while and then release them together, they will.
What Do We Do With This?
How do we hold a human who is generous, tender, joyful—and also participates in cruelty? How do we hold a culture where kindness and violence sit side by side? How do we hold this in ourselves?
Paradox as a Spiritual Practice
- Seeing beyond either/or: People aren't categories. They're contradictions in process.
- Compassion without bypass: We can love without approving harmful acts.
- Shadow work: Notice where we "cage" ourselves—then release—and how inner pressure makes us fight.
Paradox isn't comfortable. It stretches the heart. But maybe stretching is how the heart becomes big enough to hold the world as it is—so we can help it become what it could be.