From palm readings to guardian deities, a Balinese priest shares life lessons for resilience. Photo / A Banyan Tree Retreat
From palm readings to guardian deities, a Balinese priest shares life lessons for resilience. Photo / A Banyan Tree Retreat
Amid the overwhelm of midlife, Sarah Reid checks in with a holy man on the Island of the Gods, where an unexpected resort activity gives the writer an unforeseen boost.
Ribbons of incense slowly spiral skyward and the mournful coo-ooh of a dove echoes through the tropical greeneryas the Balinese priest takes my outstretched hand in his.
“This is not your destiny,” he tells me, making eye contact for emphasis. “Just a warning.”
He means I shouldn’t take his guidance as gospel, though I can already feel my cortisol levels rising. I relish being in the driver’s seat of my life, and the thought of the universe having a different plan for me makes me nervous. But when I saw the “Insight Journey” among the optional activities at Buahan, A Banyan Tree Escapein the misty highlands of central Bali – I was curious. Promising a connection to Balinese traditions and a deeper self-understanding, this private excursion led by Ida Rsi Raka Buja (a pemangku or local priest who goes by the name Atu) isn’t your typical resort activity.
Similarly to balians (traditional Balinese healers) made famous by Eat, Pray, Love, Hindu-Balinese priests provide spiritual guidance based on a combination of Balinese astrology and palm reading.
Bali is home to many respected balians, but priests make a deeper commitment to spiritual work, which makes me feel more comfortable seeking advice from one. I’m not religious, but having struggled to navigate an increasing feeling of overwhelm in my early 40s, maybe it could offer a fresh perspective?
Nestled in the highlands of Bali, Buahan, A Banyan Tree Escape offers immersive cultural activities like this spiritual session, paired with luxurious villa stays. Photo / A Banyan Tree Retreat
Finding balance
My journey begins with a scenic winding drive through Bali’s mountainous heart to Atu’s village. Chooks scatter and a rooster crows defiantly as I follow my Buahan host Kadek “Oji” Pariana through a typical Balinese family compound and along a jungle path leading to a small, lava stone temple nestling among the knotted roots of a banyan tree. Here Atu, wearing a black shirt and sarong matching his long, dark hair tied up in a half-ponytail, is preparing the ingredients for an offering known as a canang sari.
“All of the ingredients have a symbol,” Atu says as I awkwardly sit in my kebaya, a traditional outfit worn by Balinese women for temple visits and religious ceremonies Oji has dressed me in for the occasion. The coconut palm-leaf container with eight leaves pointing outwards from the centre like a compass rose, Atu explains, symbolises the Nawa Sanga or nine deities who guard or control the nine wind directions. The eight leaves point to the cardinal and intercardinal gods, while Shiva commands the centre.
Following Atu’s lead, I add flower petals to honour the four cardinal gods: white for Iswara/Ishvara in the east and red for Brahma in the south. Mahadeva in the west gets yellow petals, and Vishnu in the north receives purple (blue is ideal, but are not always available). I add a mix of flowers and shredded pandan leaves for Shiva, followed by a sprinkle of rice for good fortune, a piece of sandalwood because “it smells good,” says Atu, and incense as a symbol of fire. After lighting the incense, Atu blesses me with a dousing of holy water.
Holy water in Balinese rituals symbolises balancing positive and negative energies. Photo / A Banyan Tree Retreat
“Holy water purifications are very important because everyone has two energies: positive and negative,” Atu explains. “The water helps to balance the energy.”
It works, I think, as I’m feeling more relaxed about the next step of my journey.
Written in the stars
“You have a very strong energy – very high for a woman,” Atu tells me after cross-referencing my birthdate with the Balinese calendar and studying my palm. “Good for being a leader, but not good for being a housewife.” Fortunately, homemaking isn’t among my life goals.
The retreat is set in Bali’s lush highlands. Photo / A Banyan Tree Retreat
Atu’s lack of concern for my financial situation is reassuring, but his warning to avoid mixing friends with money stings as memories of being let down flood back. Nevertheless, I’m grateful for the reminder.
Atu’s wellbeing insights, meanwhile, are spookily spot-on. Specific health issues he says I’m susceptible to (and they’re not particularly common) mirror ailments my mum has experienced, and his mere acknowledgment of a “sadness inside” I’ve been quietly carrying lightens my emotional load.
Bathtub with a view. Photo / A Banyan Tree Retreat
After running through my lucky numbers, colours, days (who can argue with Friday?) and guardian deity (if I’m in trouble, I can turn to the west with a yellow flower in my hand and pray to Mahadeva), Atu’s assessment that I have a “strong character” and “don’t need another person to depend on” gives me a confidence boost I didn’t know I needed. I’m happily married, but it’s nice to be reminded that I’m capable of managing whatever life throws at me.
Luckily for me, life has thrown me a gorgeous pool villa at Buahan for the next few days. I certainly won’t need any help managing this.
