Balinese Healing Experience.
7 a.m., my driver suggested. 7 a.m. Doesn’t he know I’m still asleep! 8 a.m., I wrote back. After much back and forth, we agreed I can be second in line and leave at 8 a.m.
He brought me an offering. Why hadn’t I thought of that? You put the money in the offering and hand it to the healer Ngurah, my driver, told me.
Twenty minutes later, we drove through a seemingly inconspicuous Balinese door to the family compound sitting behind it. My driver got out and spoke with a man who had approached us. Come, he beckoned.
We walked between buildings to an open-air pavilion near the back of the compound. I was instructed to sit on a rug and wait as the healer was still eating breakfast. Hmmm, so he’s normal like me, I thought! Wish I’d had time for breakfast.
I was first in line. So glad I didn’t get up at 7 a.m. like my driver suggested!
I was told there’d been a wedding the night before so many of the locals weren’t visiting the healer. They’d come prior to the wedding. An Ubud prince got married the other day. I passed the wedding without knowing the cause of so much fanfare. He’d married a woman from the village where I was, and they’d celebrated at the home the night before. Surrounding the compound were the remains of the decorations. Men and women alike scurried about to take down flags, stack chairs and remove flower arrangements.
As I waited, two rats crawled along the ground. UGH! I didn’t scream but wondered what the hell I was doing there. Keep an open mind, I reminded myself. This is their way of life. It’s normal.
Before too much longer, an elderly man was receiving help to climb the single step into the pavilion. He sat in a chair at the front and asked where I am from in broken English. The United States I say proudly. He beckoned me forward. I grab my offering and place it on the table next to him. He thanked me as he directed me to have a seat in front of him.
He placed his bony shin along my spine and reclined my head against his knee. Starting with my forehead and hairline, his fingers moved quickly as they felt around, for what, I don’t know. The combination of poking, wiggling and feeling of my face continued. He moved to my eyes, my jaw, my cheeks, my nose and finally my ears. OUCH. I wince. He poked harder.
“This not hurt,” he said as he poked my left ear. “This hurt,” he said as he poked the right ear with the same amount of pressure.
The pain was sharp and sudden. Where in the world is it coming from I wondered? “Yes,” I replied!
Then he pressed just above the ear. More of the same. No pain on the left, pain on the right. He jammed his fingers in my ears. Nothing. Then, he felt my lymph nodes in my neck. Lots of pain.
“Ah,” he sighed. “You have deep scars from the past. They affect your lymphatic system. Problem is gone, but scars remain. You’re still healing.”
That was the moment I teared up. Of course he doesn’t know about my divorce. And I don’t know how THAT could affect my lymphatic system, but the concept resonated with me. I’m still healing.
“Too much thinking,” he told me. “You stop thinking. Stop worrying. Too much thinking hurting you. Good news. You’re fixable!”
Hallelujah! I’m fixable! He searched frantically for his healing stick, even calling in reinforcements to help him find it. Before he started poking and prodding me, he again reminded me – too much thinking. Always thinking thinking thinking he kept saying.
“Get out of your head and start doing,” he instructed. “Now, lay down and let’s check your systems.
He grabbed my left foot and began poking in between my toes.
“This is your circulatory system,” he said as he poked between two toes. “All good. This is your liver,” he poked. “All good. This is your stomach.”
OUCH! Again with the sharp pain. Apparently, I have issues there – shocker.
“This is your hormones,” he said as he poked one more time.
Then he proceeded to mouth words as he waved his healing stick in a series of lines and circles every which way across my body. I couldn’t repeat the pattern if I tried.
“Now you better,” he stated as he grabbed my left foot and literally jammed the stick in between the toes. “See, now no pain.”
Holy hell, I thought. How’d he do that? He then sat me upright and looked me in the eyes.
“You need passion in your life. You know your passion. Follow it more. Get out of that head of yours and follow your passion. That makes you happy, happy, happy.” he said with a big smile on his face. “And when you are happy, you are healthy.”
He grabbed my hands and placed them on my heart.
“All that was wrong with you is you weren’t connected,” he explained. “Your heart was in the sky and your feet were grounded. The two needed to be reconnected, move as one. Follow your passion,” he repeated. “I have a special blessing for you, lie back down.”
I do. He then prays over me, mouthing words I can’t hear. After, he gave me some things I can do at home to keep myself connected.
Again, he looked me in the eye as he said, “You find happiness again. And soon. You follow your passion and your happiness will be waiting for you when you return home.”
Again, tears sprung to my eyes. This man knew nothing of my past and nothing of my current journey, but he certainly gave me hope in my future.
That’s the thing. We all have the answers within us. Sometimes we look to outside forces to help bring those answers to light. His words could have any number of meanings, or frankly no meaning at all, but they were what I needed to hear. They reminded me of my journey and reassured me of the path I’m currently walking.
When you need reassurance, where do you turn? Is it prayer? Is it friends or lovers? Is it astrology or oracle cards? Is it meditation? In what ways do the answers show up for you? Is it a flashing neon sign? A monkey moment, as I’ve had? Or, is it a feeling that resonates deep within you?
I’d love to hear your story. Leave a comment below!