A life-changing encounter with generous men on The Island of the Gods
I was just outside Nusa Dua in Bali when I heard of his work in spiritual healing from a local taxi driver named Ketut. I was told he was ‘chosen’—he did not choose his path, but rather discovered his ‘healing powers’, while attempting to heal himself. We had been in deep discussion about some troubles I was having in my personal life, when Ketut took control with the kind of flexibility and hospitality that Bali is famous for. I vividly recall, while I sat on the front steps of my hotel, receiving the life changing news, that I would receive a blessing from the Balian. I was heartened amidst the heat and sound of music that was a combination of chimes and flute. The incense burned around me, and smelled of hope.
We drove down a winding and rock dirt road, stopping only to collect an offering to take to the man that would change my life. My offering contained flowers and incense wrapped neatly in palm leaves carefully handcrafted. I added some ‘Mulia’ to the package which is known as a gift from the heart. On arrival, candles flickered from within a small temple and locals were gathering for their blessings. Our problems were varied, but we were united in hope of the sacred compassion of this special man. After a short wait, the man (who had a power of empathy which would later amaze me) emerged. He was dressed in white with a head piece.
At first sight of him, a perfect stranger, I felt safe and welcome despite having a troubled mind amidst strangers. We could only communicate through body language at first, however suddenly transforming from a taxi driver to a translator, ‘Ketut’ too charge of the situation. This compassionately wise man, known to me only as the ‘Balian’, smiled with kind eyes as we shook hands. He was prepared for my arrival, and I was certainly grateful for his welcome. My scenario was explained through Ketut to the Balian, his eyes filling with genuine tears. I knew there and then, he was walking my path. Music similar to that at the hotel, played in the background, but this time more gently.
He whispered at first, pausing only to consult with a chart on the wall. He was seeking higher awareness, slowly and methodically. The man then sung out and his chanting echoed through that small temple. Locals watched, familiar with the ceremonious work that was being undertaken, and joined in some of the chants. The Balian felt my ears, my neck, and back. I drank cool water in the hot Bali sun. The Balian covered me in flower, rice, and cold water—relaxing, purifying, healing. He reached in to expand my awareness, my compassion, and heal my broken heart.
An Indonesian man, who was a perfect stranger, would prove be the catalyst for my personal change.
Following this ritual blessing, my thoughts would prove less scattered, my writer’s block would lift, and I would love with heart and soul again. He allowed me to walk lighter, find renewed confidence and peace as though my worries had been washed away. In the period following my blessing, I have found awe in what this man accomplished for me. I put my faith in the hands of the Balian, in the Island of Gods. This kind man, this generous man, this man with higher compassion and empathy… he surely delivered!