The circle was quiet again, but in its silence, a vibration of meaning was growing. After hearing the affirmation from Sophie, Riri, and Romo, Marlon seemed to rediscover a flow within himself that had been temporarily blocked. He looked at the small fire in the center, then said, softly but clearly.
"Actually, the research we are doing is about the Seven Deadly Sins and the Seven Heavenly Virtues. The seven cardinal sins and the seven principal virtues. On the surface, this concept seems clear—one is bad, the other is good. But once we went into the field, the reality… isn't that simple."
Sophie raised her eyebrows, intrigued. Several other participants began to lean closer to Marlon, fully engaged.
"We met people who survived on small lies. People who were greedy because of the trauma of poverty. People who were full of anger because they had never been taught how to express sadness. And on the other hand, we also met people who were too kind to say 'no,' and their lives were trampled on."
He looked down for a moment, then continued.
"Initially, I thought sin was sin. Virtue was virtue. But it turns out this world… is gray. Even many good things can be destructive if not placed in the right context."
Romo nodded slowly, looking at Marlon with respect. Marlon glanced at Sophie, then back at the circle.
"I am reminded of Jalaluddin Rumi. The wise Sufi. He said, 'Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.'"
Sophie smiled gently, recognizing the quote.
"I used to feel that to be great, I had to be able to change the world. Like Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Steve Jobs. They changed the world, created systems, technology, new ways of life. But if you look at their characters… they are not examples of people full of classic virtues. They can be narcissistic, full of pride, even ruthless in business. But still, the world changed because of them."
He looked around, then asked the circle in a soft but piercing voice:
"So, can't wise and clever coexist? Do we have to choose between being wise or being influential? Can the world only be changed by people who are not afraid to be those 'deadly sins' themselves?"
Silence. The sentence hung like newly lit incense—its fragrance slowly filling the air, but burning something inside.
Sophie replied in a gentle tone,
"That's a big question, Marlon. And a very important one. In moral psychology theory, there's a concept called moral compromise. The real world doesn't always give us a choice between black and white. Sometimes, in our efforts to survive or make a change, we have to let go of some of our idealism."
She added,
"But there's also Eastern philosophy that says the highest strength comes from harmony. Not conflict. So maybe it's not choosing between wise or clever, but how we dance between the two. Consciously. With empathy."
Romo nodded.
"It's like the middle path philosophy in many religions. Even Prophet Moses was once angry, Buddha himself once doubted. Sometimes goodness has to disguise itself as firmness."
Riri smiled and said,
"Maybe it's not who is the cleanest who can bring change, but who can get dirty without losing their way."
Marlon was silent. Riri's words seemed to confirm the unease he had felt from the beginning but hadn't had a chance to express.
"Yeah… maybe this research isn't really about judging sin and virtue. But about seeing how we all… survive in the gray."
He looked at the fire that was beginning to dwindle, then added, almost like a prayer,
"And hopefully when we get lost in the gray, we can still call out to each other… remind each other of the way home."
The circle was silent again. But not an empty silence. This was a full silence. A silence that spoke. A silence that healed.
The circle remained still in a healing silence. After several seconds that felt like silent meditation, Riri took a soft breath. She sat up straight, looking at the fire that was starting to dwindle, then shifted her gaze to the faces watching her. Faces that had just listened intently to Marlon, now awaiting their turn from the twin who had always seemed calmer but no less sharp.
"My name is Riri. I'm a final-year economics student. I joined this research because… well, initially because of Marlon. But not because he's my brother, or because we're twins. But because of his perspective."
She smiled faintly at Marlon. Then looked at the fire.
"I was interested when he said that the world isn't as simple as black and white. That even sin can be a tool for life. And that made me want to compare it from an economic perspective."
Riri's voice remained soft, but full of conviction. She spoke like someone who had been thinking about this silently in her head for a long time, and only tonight, found a place to express it honestly.
"Take greed, for example. Everyone knows it's bad. But… think about it. If there weren't greedy people wanting more, wanting more wealth, houses, vehicles, the latest gadgets—then the wheels of consumption would stop. There would be no market demand. No economic growth."
She glanced at Sophie and the other participants, making sure her words were understood.
"The modern world economy is driven by desires that are never enough. Capitalism grows from greed. Even the digital economy now, social media algorithms, crypto investments, they all live off desire. Not from contentment."
Sophie nodded slowly, and several participants seemed to be taking notes. Riri continued, more softly.
"And the opposite of greed is generosity or charity. Kindness. Generosity. But… the economy can't just depend on good people who want to share. The world can't fully rely on charity. Because charity… only comes after a surplus. While greed… makes people chase that surplus."
She paused for a moment, as if wanting to give her thoughts a break.
"So I asked myself… if everyone became very kind, full of love, selfless, only giving and giving… would the economic wheels still turn? Would innovation still emerge? Would people still want to work hard without more incentives?"
Someone in the circle looked like they were about to answer, but Sophie gestured for Riri to finish first.
"That's what makes this research interesting to me. Because we see that virtue and sin can't just be viewed from morality alone. They are also social mechanisms. There is a function behind every 'sin.' Even in classical economics, Adam Smith talked about self-interest—which he said could drive the market with an 'invisible hand.' But isn't self-interest the sibling of greed?"
Sophie smiled, then replied slowly, her soft voice like the Ubud breeze touching the skin:
"You've touched on a very important point, Riri. In Behavioral Economics, there is a lot of discussion about how morals and incentives work together. Amartya Sen, one of the great economists, once criticized classical economic models for relying too much on selfish rationality. He said that humans are not just homo economicus, but also homo empathicus."
Riri looked enthusiastic, as if finding a resonance of thought.
"Exactly. And now, modern economics is starting to talk about ethical capitalism, sustainable growth, even impact investing. But still… all of that is born not from a desire to give, but from the system's need to survive. We give because we realize that if the system collapses, we collapse with it."
Marlon interjected with a small smile:
"So you're saying… even kindness is part of crisis management?"
Riri chuckled softly.
"In many cases, yes. But that doesn't mean it's insincere. It just means… we are complex beings. We can give because of love, but we can also give because of fear of loss."
Sophie looked impressed. She replied calmly:
"Riri, you've conveyed the essence of the paradox of virtue in an economic system. Pure goodness… rarely survives on a large scale without a system that supports it. But that system itself is built by desires that often stem from sin."
Romo, who had been silent all along, nodded slowly and said:
"Like one of my teachers used to say… sometimes we have to plant thorns to keep the flowers alive. The important thing is, we know when it's time to pull out the thorns."
The circle fell silent again. But as before, this was a silence that embraced. A silence that united. A silence that allowed thoughts and hearts to dialogue in the intimacy of the night.
The healing circle, which had initially been full of personal stories, now slowly changed direction, becoming like a warm, open discussion space. The small fire in their midst still burned gently, illuminating faces that began to shine—not from the light, but from openness. After Marlon and Riri shared their reflections, a middle-aged man named Raka, wearing a white linen shirt and a rudraksha bracelet on his wrist, slowly raised his hand.
"I just realized… that what you are researching, about the Seven Deadly Sins and the Seven Heavenly Virtues, is actually very close to our daily lives. But most of us don't realize it. Like… basic human instincts that we consider normal, when behind them there is a dynamic between sin and virtue."
Raka looked around, then continued.
"Take pride, for example. We consider it bad, but many successful people around us actually look so confident, even arrogant. Then humility, on the other hand, sometimes doesn't attract attention. The world seems to value pride, as long as it's wrapped in achievement."
A young woman named Arimbi, sitting cross-legged across from him, chimed in with a smile.
"True. I used to be insecure because I avoided pride too much. But in the end, I became unconfident. Even though sometimes, having self-pride is necessary… like gasoline for the road."
Sophie responded warmly.
"That's what's called conscious pride. Being proud with the awareness that you are not better than others, but you have grown from who you used to be."
Then a curly-haired guy who introduced himself as Jalu, chuckled softly and said,
"And don't forget about lust and chastity. The entertainment world, advertising, even social media now are built on the exploitation of lust. But who can really stay away from that? Just look at trending reels or perfume ads."
"Or gluttony—eating greedily," Arimbi added with a shy smile. "When I'm stressed, I run to sweet foods. Chocolate, ice cream, fried snacks. But I never thought that could fall into the category of sin."
Romo nodded, his soft voice like water:
"In the teachings I learned from childhood, there is indeed an urge to stay away from all of that. But… over time I realized, staying away without understanding can make us hypocritical. We only avoid, but don't process."
Marlon added, in his usual tone—relaxed but insightful:
"I once read that humans are a battlefield between virtue and sin. But not like a war in the movies. Sometimes it's not about who wins, but how we negotiate those two sides so that life keeps moving, without losing direction."
Jalu exclaimed softly:
"Damn… that's deep. So it's like… the Seven Deadly Sins aren't meant to be completely avoided, but understood, controlled? So we don't go overboard?"
Sophie nodded slowly.
"Exactly. Sufis like Jalaluddin Rumi didn't see the world as an arena of judgment, but as a place to learn to know oneself. He wrote, 'Don't grieve. Anything you lose, comes round in another form.' Even the sins we regret… can be a path to deeper understanding."
Raka continued calmly:
"Maybe sins and virtues are like two sides of the same coin. One gives the impulse, the other gives direction. If we only have impulse without direction—we get lost. But if we only have direction without impulse—we don't move."
Silence returned, not out of confusion, but because everyone was processing.
Arimbi then murmured while folding her shawl:
"I didn't expect this healing circle to be like a philosophy and economics lecture… but it feels more connected to my life than my college courses."
Everyone chuckled softly. But the laughter was warm. Sincere.
Sophie looked around, then said gently:
"We all carry wounds. But tonight, we also carry understanding. And that… is perhaps the earliest form of self-healing—awareness."
The circle slowly fell silent again, but in that silence, something felt like it was healing. Not just personal wounds, but also their perspective on themselves, on sin, on the world.
The night air grew cooler and the wind began to gently caress the tips of the bamboo that encircled the healing circle. The light of the bonfire had now dwindled, leaving only a soft glow that warmed the atmosphere, not the body. Some participants began to stir, stretching, a sign that the night was almost over. But Marlon, who had mostly listened after expressing his unease, slowly looked up and met Sophie's gaze across from him. He seemed to be holding back a question he couldn't keep to himself any longer.
"Sophie…" he said softly, but clearly enough to draw the attention of the other participants.
Everyone refocused in the center. Sophie turned with a friendly smile.
"Yes, Marlon?"
Marlon took a breath and said,
"I've been thinking about one thing since earlier. You seem more mature, calmer than us. Maybe because of your experience or the journey you've been on. But I want to ask something… that's been bothering me. Why is it that since we were little… from religion, school, family, environment—everything taught us that the world is just two things: good or bad, sin or merit, right or wrong? Why didn't they just say from the beginning that this world… is gray? That what's right and wrong often depends on context? Why did we have to be made to believe that everything is black and white first… only to be disappointed later and learn on our own that life isn't that simple?"
The atmosphere suddenly fell silent. Not out of awkwardness, but because everyone felt… that was a question that represented their silent voices.
Sophie didn't answer immediately. She looked at the fire in the center, then sighed slowly. Her gaze was gentle, as if remembering something she had also questioned.
"I once asked my spiritual teacher in Ubud the same thing. And his answer at that time… made me silent for quite a while. He said, 'Small children are not taught complex truths. They are taught simple truths so they can grow safely.'"
She turned to Marlon, then looked at all the participants.
"Black and white is a language that is easy for a soul that is learning to grow to understand. It's the same as how we wouldn't give children calculus, but start with addition and subtraction. This world is indeed gray, but shadows only appear if there is light and dark. And we need both."
Romo nodded slowly, then whispered as if to himself.
"So… maybe the black and white teachings weren't lies, but stages. Like the dividers on the road when we can't drive straight yet…"
Sophie smiled gently.
"Exactly, Mo. And at a certain point, we begin to realize that those dividers can be removed. We begin to walk more freely, more aware that what we considered sin… is sometimes just a form of misplaced love. And what we considered merit… can sometimes be born from bad intentions."
Riri leaned on her hand, then said softly,
"So learning to be an adult… doesn't mean knowing all the answers, but knowing that every answer has a version and another side?"
Sophie smiled wider.
"Exactly. This world isn't about finding one single truth, but how we befriend the diversity of truths. Both the ones within us… and the ones outside."
Jalu, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke in a heavier voice:
"We're given a simple map, but life turns out to be like a complicated forest, huh? Maybe the goal of life's journey… isn't to replace the map, but to learn to read the compass of the heart."
That statement was met with small nods and smiles from all the participants. The circle that initially felt like a healing forum, now became like a space of shared wisdom—where there were no teachers and students, only travelers lighting each other's lanterns.
Sophie looked at her watch, then said gently,
"Friends… it's almost eleven. Tomorrow I'm going to the Ubud market in the morning, but if you'd like to come along to look around and observe human interactions as Marlon intended… I would be very happy to have company."
Marlon, Riri, and Romo exchanged glances, then replied in unison:
"We want to!"
Sophie chuckled lightly. Raka and Arimbi also chimed in.
"If I can hitch a ride on a motorbike, I'd like to join too," said Arimbi.
Everyone chuckled softly. That night ended with smiles. Not because all wounds had healed, but because they realized: they were not alone.
And that night, before they returned to their respective accommodations in Ubud, Sophie turned to Marlon and said,
"The world is indeed gray, Marlon. But we can choose what color we want to wear today. Not to deceive the world, but to clarify our own steps."
Marlon only replied with a soft nod. In his eyes, there was a new light—not from the bonfire, but from understanding.
Morning in Ubud arrived slowly—like someone knocking gently on the door so as not to disturb a beautiful dream from the night before. Cool air wafted from the gaps in the old banyan trees, seeping into the folds of the traders' sarongs who had been busy setting up their wares since dawn. The aroma of incense mixed with the scent of spices and fresh fruits filled the air. The voices of sellers echoed in Balinese, Indonesian, and sometimes broken English as they served foreign tourists who joined in the bustle.
Marlon turned on his camera. Riri adjusted the lens focus. Romo stood beside Sophie, who briefly explained the atmosphere of the market.
"This market isn't just a place to buy and sell," Sophie said with a smile, "but a place where many human inner dynamics spontaneously emerge—negotiation, emotions, patience, even pretense."
Riri nodded, her hands busily jotting down small details in her notebook: the facial expressions of sellers refusing tourists' price offers, mothers gossiping while arranging chili peppers, foreign tourists hesitating to buy handicrafts then switching to a coffee stall.
Marlon recorded from another angle. The camera captured two small children sitting in a corner, one helping his mother wrap traditional snacks, the other laughing as he watched a dog steal bread from a stall.
"It feels like… this market is a small stage of life," Marlon murmured. "All emotions come out here—but no one is really just an audience."
Around ten o'clock, they gathered again at the healing circle location from the night before. This time, it wasn't just the participants who came. Sophie introduced an old man dressed in all white, with his hair neatly tied back. His face was serene, his eyes clear like a lake.
"Friends," Sophie said gently, "this is Ida Pandita Rsi Nara Suta. He is a high priest (pedande) in the Ubud area, and also a spiritual teacher who has taught me a lot about how to view life… with an open heart."
The healing circle participants stood up to pay their respects with their hands clasped in front of their chests. The pedande smiled, then sat down on a mat like everyone else.