A revival from back when traveling was normal and I went to see a Balinese healer. He had lessons for me, though they were not quite what I had expected. One of my take aways was a technique he taught me that I’ve called “The healing smile.” It’s like the Balinese version of Mel Robins’ High Five Habit and I’d totally recommend it 😉

A few days ago I went to see a traditional Balinese healer, known as a Balian. I did some online research and found a few blogs and websites in which people had written about a healer named Tjokorda Rai who was very well known in Bali and even world renowned. A few bloggers had written about how they’d had very significant, even life changing, experiences with him. He seemed legit – the interwebs do not lie.

After leaving the beautiful beaches of Kuta, Lombok (aka, good Kuta, in comparison to the party central, seventh state of Australia, don’t let your children out alone, Kuta, Bali) I wound up in Padang Bai for a night, a sleepy little port town with horrible wifi and not much to do. The next day I said ‘Padang, bye’ as wifi is like my left arm and Ubud was calling me back.

When plans go smoothly after I’ve made a decision, I take this as a sign from the universe that I’m on the right track. My bus ride to Ubud was seamless as was finding a cheap guesthouse and a driver to take me to some outstanding temples. In addition, one of my main reasons for returning to Ubud was to see a healer, as I’d wanted to get some insight into some digestive issues I’d been having. Making an appointment with Tjokorda Rai for the following day was another thing that couldn’t have been easier. With everything working out so nicely, I had to make a concerted effort to curb my expectations. If you’ve been reading this blog, you know how I feel about expectations 

I arrived at 10am the next day and was greeted by two dogs and an apprentice who told us that Tjokorda might come in ten minutes, or he could come in an hour – it depended on how he was feeling that day. The apprentice was a psychiatrist from Holland who was studying traditional Balinese healing under Tjokorda Rai. I asked him if he could apply the principles he learned here to his work in Holland, but unfortunately the powers that be would not allow it.

I was curious about psychiatry in Holland, so I asked him if he felt that mental illness or psychological issues have been increasing over the years. His response was interesting.

He said that as society places more and more emphasis on individuality and less on collectives such as family or cooperative groups, people are becoming more insecure. They feel that they have to protect and defend their individual identity which ultimately leads to a loss of confidence and connectedness, both to self and others. He felt that the driving force of this independence, the higher ups, had made a smart move because with more focus on the individual ‘me’ and less on the group, solidarity weakens, the people lose power and are more easily controlled by fear. When fearful, people search for and cling to a leader, any leader. In fear, we forget our inner guidance and the wealth of knowledge contained within, and we frantically search for external sources to come to our rescue. In short, he was worried about the future of the Western world. We talked some more about the world phenomenon of selfies, how I’m living in the plastic surgery capital of the world, South Korea, and how spiritual materialism abounds in places such as Ubud. I was admittedly engaging in a little complaining about finding real gold amidst all the fool’s gold, and he again said something interesting, something which I’m aware of, but often forget,

“We’re all on our own paths, aren’t we?”

This pretty much shut me up until Tjokorda arrived. Fortunately, today was one of the days when he came on time. He walked in, said good morning to everyone who had come to see him, as well as all of the objects on his desk and the dogs. Chico, the larger of the two dogs was lying down on the platform. Tjokorda told him to get down to which Chico didn’t bat an eye, so the apprentice moved the reluctant dog down to the ground. Tail between his legs, Chico was back up again in a matter of seconds. He walked to the middle of the platform, did a few circles and lied back down again. Everyone laughed. 

The eighty-four year old Tjokorda called out “who’s first?” Upon which my body stood up and walked towards him on its own. Me, I guess. I sat down in front of him, slightly uncomfortable about the audience, which I wasn’t expecting. He told me to sit with my back to him which I did, then he went to town pressing his fingers into various areas of my head and neck and in my ears. As he did this, he began yelling something in Indonesian very loudly and aggressively .

I was taken aback: Wooooah…quite the intense healing process happening here. Could he be speaking to some foreign entities? Maybe an exorcism of some bad spirits that have latched on to me? My eyes were closed, but as I listened closer I heard the word “Chico!” in his outbursts, and realized that he was yelling at the dog who must have been moving around on the platform. Oh..yeah, the dog. Of course.

As he poked and prodded my head and neck, he asked: ok? For most of the points I felt no pain, but there was one point on the right where my neck meets my jaw that was quite agonizing when he pressed in. I flinched and said ‘ah’

“Ahhh, that your mind. You have mind problem.”

Yes, well that was already clear going in.

He continued on to my feet for which he took a small pointed stick and pressed it into my toes one by one. The pain in my second toe on the right was quite intense and he told me that was my pancreas. But only “small problem.”

As he finished with his little pointy stick, he exclaimed, “What can I do for you?! There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Well, I thought I’d had a mind problem…and that digestive thing still hadn’t been addressed. I was beginning to doubt the credibility of this healer who yelled at dogs.

“I have poor digestion. At the end of the day, my stomach sticks out like a balloon. Is there something I can do for that?”

“Don’t drink coffee. And you need eat a little bit of meat.”

Oh dear. Well this wasn’t going well at all.

“I’m vegan, so I don’t eat any meat. And I shouldn’t drink any coffee?” (let it be known that I rely on coffee to write, to teach, to exercise, and to pretty much do anything in life).

“Ok. You take B12. And no coffee in the morning first thing. You eat something first, then you drink coffee.”

I relaxed.

He poked my toes with his stick a few more times and said, once again, almost exasperatingly,

“What can I do for you?! There’s nothing wrong with you!!”

“Umm, what about my mind problem?”

He paused and thought for a moment.

“Ok. For all problem: Everyday you look in the mirror and smile. You smile yourself in mirror. When you have big smile, you reach into mirror and take your smile. Bring smile to your lips and put it inside mouth. Hold it in mouth until you salivate. Really, wait until you have lot of saliva. Then you swallow smile. Smile go down your throat and into your body. It go everywhere. To all organs and mind. This is healing smile. Do everyday in mirror. Really. Hold in mouth until full with saliva. Swallow. Imagine all your organs smiling. Mind smile too. You do this. No problems.”

His description was so animated and, for lack of a better word, cute, that I couldn’t help but smile. I told him that I would do this. And he told me one more time that there was nothing wrong with me, shaking his head. I thanked him, shook his hand and we gave each other the Namaste gesture.

After reading about other’s experiences with Tjokorda, and how easily everything lined up for my visit with him, I must admit that I was implicitly hoping for something significant, and best case scenario, life changing to happen. What I got was some painful poking and prodding in addition to the knowledge that there is apparently nothing wrong with me aside from some insignificant mind and pancreas issues. The whole sessions was over in a matter of fifteen minutes.

As usual, there are some lessons here. First of all, accounts of “life changing” experiences make for more interesting reads and, incidentally, more blog readers and followers. So don’t trust what people say on the internets. They are probably lying. Except for me of course. Whatever I write is truth delivered weekly. Honest. More importantly, I have a renewed understanding that asking “why things happen” is unproductive and will undoubtedly lead to more questions. While my visit to Tjokorda seemed more insignificant and humorous than anything, the inner workings of the universe cannot be explained nor understood. What ego interprets as irrelevant, the soul may be reveling in. There is no way for the mind to know. My job in all of this is to trust, to put my hopes and expectations aside, and have faith that the moment is unfolding exactly as it should whether my mind believes so or not…minds that have problems are not to be trusted anyway.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I have some mirror smiling to do.