Sparkling sand. Endless blue skies. An ocean that never seemed to end, stretching over horizons until I couldn’t decide where they started and where I began.
Nature is a powerful force – and the Hindus surely felt it.
"Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher."—William Wordsworth (1798)
Past the crowds of Canggu and the busyness of tourists frolicking around, deep in the vast and ancient forests that cover the heart of Bali, the locals take part in a special ceremony. Ever wondered how to channel the divine power of deities and nature itself?
The Balinese certainly found an answer.
Melukat.
Deriving from the old Javanese word “lukat,” – meaning to “cleanse” or “purify” – the traditional Hindu ritual is meant to spiritually cleanse the body, mind and soul from all sources of negativity. To participate is to purify oneself with holy water and obtain goodness; keeping away from nightmares that haunt you, illnesses that threaten you and restlessness that plagues you.
Griya Beji: A Sacred Space
Many sites offer this ritual, but the Griya Beji Waterfall Temple in the Badung Regency was incomparable. It was crackling with spiritual energy. As soon as my friends and I stepped into the sacred space, I felt peace wrap around me – like a warm blanket on a winter’s night. I couldn’t explain it.
The waterfalls of Griya Beji were the most impressive I’d ever seen. Shimmering waters underneath the sun-lit sky and the sounds of its roars so powerful that it could only be compared to the presence of the Hindu gods and goddesses themselves.
The holy waters were adorned with massive statues: complex reiterations of what the gods looked like, or perhaps what their protectors looked like, or perhaps something else entirely.
Supernatural beings and creatures not of this Earth, but of another plain of life.
I felt it. I felt their presence.
Curious about the statues, I asked our guide who were its creators.
The guide said that while most of the statues were carved by the owner of the temple, other statues had been there long before they’d established the Griya Beji Temple... possibly even hundreds of years ago.
I wondered who came before them, I thought.
We followed our quiet guide as we walked around the temple, all dressed in red sarong fitted into our various sizes. The Hindus believe red is a powerful colour, symbolising purity. It's used for special occasions like marriages and the birth of a child.
Passing all the different statues dedicated to the deities, it certainly felt like the birth of something new. One god was the protector of the temple; one goddess reigned the sea; another was the guardian of all the gods.
Each prayer, each offering, each piece of gratitude was… liberating.
Now that I think about it, it honestly feels like a blur. Like I was in a trance, focused solely on imploring the gods for eternal health, prosperity and goodness in my life.
The Way of the Waterfall
The scene plays in my mind like a broken record on repeat: the four of us walking into the enormous waterfall, the one that we’d heard earlier, crashing and roaring like it was a divine power itself.
But I wasn't scared.
Emotional therapy, the guide murmured. Each of us were to walk into the waterfall ourselves, think of a negative memory that plagues or had plagued our minds, and scream it out. It seemed ridiculous at first, but one friend went forward first.
Hearing him scream is a memory I have trouble forgetting.
I felt his frustration, his anguish, even maybe his sadness. So the rest of us followed him, and none of us held back: the echoes of our screams reverberated across the water, across the lands, across the wall that separates our world and the spirit world.
By the time I was done, my heart was burning.
I don’t remember what memory I thought of. But the guide surprised us: there was another step in this stage of the ritual.
Think of a happy memory, he said.
So we went into the waterfall again, in the middle of a spot where two parts of the mountain collided.
The water rained down harder than the last one. So we instinctively held onto each other like we were our lifelines and got absolutely soaked to the bone.
And then there it was: infectious laughter. I just remember us smiling, laughing, panting – like the mere presence of us together was enough to evoke our own joy and merriness.
We were in this together.
I didn’t need any memory to be happy – I already was, just being there with my friends.
An Act of Self-Love
The act was done.
A priestess – an old woman, who looked like she’d seen a lot in our world, and perhaps in another unknown to us – finally took her gentle hands in mine. She laid a flower on my ear; a thumb of white chalk on my forehead; a last protective glance before gesturing for me to go. That’s it.
And that's how Melukat changed my life.
The Hindus taught me that there was indeed a divine spirit in nature. That nature was a healing force meant to mend the human heart. I felt intimate with Mother Nature – like it knew my secrets, but it held them and nourished them... even my darkest truths.
This is why the Balinese tend to be so at peace. So generous. So kind. Like they carry a lightness in their hearts. The ancient method to neutralise negative energy had been passed from generations. They made it a tradition to remind ourselves what was most important in this world:
Being in nature is an act of self-love.
And I look forward to seeing nature again.