A Joyful Reflection on Bali and Bhakti - The Yoga of Devotion

This month marks a milestone as I celebrate the second anniversary of my thirty-day spiritual adventure to the enchanting island of Bali! Looking back on that incredible journey, I am struck by how ill-prepared I was for the overwhelming beauty and boundless love that awaited me. It has taken this time to absorb and appreciate the profound depth of my experience. At that point in my life, I had practiced yoga for ten years and had discovered a deep appreciation for Bhakti yoga. I wanted to immerse myself in it further. I finally embarked on a journey that opened my heart and spirit to the profound essence of devotion.

Bhakti Yoga, a path deeply rooted in the ideals of unconditional love and heartfelt devotion, teaches us that the divine spark resides within every individual. We unlock this beautiful essence that connects us all by embracing selfless love for others. The term "Bhakti" itself, which beautifully translates to "devotion" or "love," invites us to channel our emotions towards elevating both our souls and those around us, igniting a brilliant flame of compassion and empathy. Through the myriad practices within Bhakti Yoga, we can nurture this devotion, forging a profound bond with the divine. I am excited to share more about this life-changing journey and the radiant paths it has illuminated for me!

During my journey, I had the incredible opportunity to participate in two transformative training sessions ten days apart. The first session occurred deep within the lush, vibrant jungle, where the sounds of monkeys, birds, and rustling leaves created a symphony of nature. Every morning at 6 a.m., I heard the chanting from the temples and villages surrounding us.

In the ten days between these two experiences, I chose to immerse myself in the heart of the local community, wandering through various small villages. I engaged with the warm and welcoming locals, including fishermen casting their nets into tranquil waters and dedicated farmers tending to their rice fields. It was fascinating to learn about the small villages celebrated for their remarkable artistic talents—such as breathtaking woodcarvings crafted with exceptional skill using just their feet and intricate pen art created by children as young as five, revealing a deep-seated cultural heritage. Bali is known for its generations of artisans. Wood and stone carvers, silversmiths, painters, batik makers, and weavers, these skills and talents are passed down and carefully preserved.

My final training took me to Soulshine, just outside of Ubud. Soulshine was created on the foundation of the Balinese philosophy of Tri Hita Karana - the three causes of happiness, which translated means harmony, human to human, human to nature, and human to spirit. The yoga retreat center was built by musician Michael Franti and his wife, Sara.

Throughout my exploration, I observed the rhythm of daily life as villagers worked diligently in the serene temples, the sweeping rice fields that stretched like emerald carpets, and the fragrant coffee plantations, where the air was perfumed with the rich aroma of freshly brewed beans. Each encounter deepened my appreciation for the artistry and dedication woven into the fabric of this vibrant community.

My first training took place at Bagus Jati Resort, a wellness center in the rural village of Jati, in the heart of Bali. The resort is surrounded by lush grounds that face a wall of jungle. Its architecture reflects the Balinese style, deeply rooted in Hindu traditions and ancient Japanese elements, emphasizing harmony with nature. Local materials such as thatch, wood, and stone are prominently used, with features like open courtyards and intricate carvings.

I shared a beautiful villa with a woman named Kate, set high on a hillside overlooking the jungle. The resort featured stone paths connecting various enchanting spots. Mornings welcomed us with dewy greenery, while evenings brought a gentle chill signaling the night.

Walking these winding paths was a physical challenge in itself, a blend of invigorating exercise and serene exploration. I vividly remember finishing my morning practice and glancing up at my villa, a moment of self-encouragement washing over me as I thought, "You've got this. Just put one foot in front of the other."

Along these paths, I encountered exquisite stone carvings, most notably a depiction of Ganesh, the revered Hindu deity known for his elephant head and legendary ability to remove obstacles. Halfway along my journey, I would always pause in front of this captivating figure, engaging in what felt like heartfelt sidebar conversations with him. Each day, the connection grew deeper, making the trek not just a workout but a soulful experience intertwined with the spirit of the jungle around me.

I was unsure what to expect when I started the first training since I had only attended a few workshops and training near my home in the United States. Each day began at six a.m. with a thirty-minute silent meditation. Walking down hundreds of steps in the dark to the yoga shala. The sounds and chants from the jungle surrounded me like a warm hug. I felt a deep peace settle within me that I can't fully describe. Once I sat in place, I became aware of the solid floor beneath me, the cool breeze on my skin, and the gradual light of dawn painting the sky as the jungle awoke with color and sound. At first, my feet tingled and went numb, and my mind was filled with stray thoughts. However, these half-hour meditations became the best part of my day a few days in.

Following meditation, we transitioned into our asana practice, an invigorating 75-minute movement journey. The practice began slowly, gradually unfolding as we opened our bodies and hearts. We were encouraged to practice without mats, allowing us to connect intimately with the grounding floor crafted from local Balinese wood. At times, the rough texture was tough on my knees and hands, yet it was also profoundly empowering to feel the native surface beneath me, surrendering to its support.

One particularly magical morning, just as our meditation was nearing its conclusion, a soft sound began to emerge from the corner of the room. A local cellist, whose talent was remarkable, had settled quietly among us, weaving an extraordinary soundscape of classical and modern melodies. As I moved through the asana practice, tears streamed down my face, an emotional release I couldn't hold back. It felt as though the vibrations of the music coursed through my body, guiding my arms and legs in a harmonious dance. The experience was beyond explanation; words like passion, creativity, love, presence, intensity, and joy flooded my being, all intertwined in a beautiful tapestry of feelings. His name was Cellomano, and I feel fortunate to have encountered him numerous times throughout the month in various enchanting settings.

This training focused on the teachings and philosophy of Bhakti, including the chanting of mantras in Japa meditation and Kirtan. We engaged in devotional practices using our bodies and voices, journaling, and collaborating in groups or pairs. Our days were long and full. After the practices, I felt physically and emotionally drained for the day. I would take a light dinner to my balcony and review the day's events in my mind or simply listen to the evening sounds from the jungle.

Our days were not entirely filled with practice; we also had a few outings. One experience I hold close to my heart was a day spent at the temple, which began with a water purification ceremony followed by offerings and prayers. The water came from mountain springs and was incredibly cold. We took turns, embracing the purification ritual with joy and laughter.

On another occasion, we rose at 3 a.m. to hike Mount Agunvolc, unaware of the breathtaking views that awaited us. Upon reaching the summit, we were reminded of the magic of Bali. As we descended the mountain, we could see where the landscape had been blackened and stripped by the volcano, which had been in eruption 20 years prior. In 1963, a series of eruptions from Mount Agung caused significant destruction and loss of life, with lava flows and volcanic ash engulfing much of the surrounding area.

Pura Besakih, Bali's largest and holiest temple complex, miraculously survived the devastating eruption, a sight many Balinese view as a divine sign. As we reached the bottom, we were greeted by curious monkeys, some of which were a little intimidating, but made for great laughter.

During this training, I met the most incredible women. We shared laughter and tears, forming deep friendships along the way. Despite our diverse backgrounds, we united in our quest for peace and love within ourselves and in the world around us. Many of these women were my age, approaching middle age, which led us to have in-depth conversations about our growing families, changing careers, menopause, and the experiences of love and loss in our lives. Several of these women had lost their mothers in recent years and were at different stages of grief. I felt so fortunate to have my mother at that time, unaware that she would leave this world just a year later. Saying goodbye to my new friends was difficult. Even two years later, we still keep in touch, and I hope to reunite with them all someday.

My first training culminated in the vibrant Celebration of Shiva, a deeply spiritual ceremony centered around a sacred circle. We all wore pure white garments, embodying themes of purity, peace, and spiritual enlightenment as we sought to align ourselves with the divine energy surrounding us. The atmosphere was filled with reverence and joy. After the ceremony, we indulged in a feast of Balensie cuisine and filled the air with laughter and music as we danced joyfully together, celebrating our shared experience.

I had ten days between training, so I decided to retreat to the coastal area of Amed. This stunning region encompasses charming villages such as Amed, Jemeluk, Bunutan, Lipah, Selang, Banyuning, and Aas, each with its own unique character and allure. I enlisted the help of a young local named Santika as my tour guide for the next three days.

My hotel was perched on a hillside, overlooking the ocean. Despite its weathered appearance, the panoramic views from my balconies were breathtaking, where lush mountains met the sea. I imagined it once catered to the elite, with exquisite craftsmanship in its woodwork and locally made furniture.

The impact of COVID was evident in the villages below, where many families struggled in makeshift homes. Yet, the locals welcomed me warmly, their genuine curiosity making me feel at home despite my differences.

Eager to explore, I visited a nearby beach filled with laughter as children joyfully raced about on motorbikes, embodying the carefree spirit of island life. This scene left a lasting impression on me.

Santika introduced me to Bali’s rich culture, taking me to intricate temples, lush gardens, and fragrant coffee plantations. One memorable day, we rode up a volcano, taking in stunning views, and I experienced the tranquility of dawn with local fishermen.

Santika shared captivating stories about the island's diverse villages and the significant role of spirituality in Balinese life. The community celebrates numerous ceremonies that begin with prayers at the village temple, followed by offerings made at home, reflecting their deep-rooted traditions.

My next adventure took me to three small islands in the Nusa Penida District. After saying my goodbyes to Santike, I made my way to Nusa Lembongan via ferry. Nusa Lembongan is one of three islands in the Nusa Penida district, along with Nusa Penida and Nusa Ceningan, collectively known as the "Nusa Islands." Nusa Lembongan is approximately 3 miles long, with a population of about 5,000.

I found a small cottage owned by a family on the island. Ketut was my host; she was a beautiful and kind woman. She took me to my cabin, which had a porch and an outside private shower, one of eight on the property. The Akah Cottages and Restaurant, recently renovated, felt warm and inviting. I stayed on the island for five days.

During my time at Nusa Lembongan, I walked around the entire island multiple times, exploring hidden beaches, sunrises, sunsets, and local shops. One day, I decided to rent a scooter and ride to the adjacent island. Ketut arranged for one to be delivered and taught me how to ride it on the street. I could tell she was nervous, and I was too, but I managed to cross a narrow bridge that was no wider than 6 feet. I navigated bumpy roads and local villages until I reached a famous location where 'The Blue Lagoon' was filmed—it was stunning.

Unfortunately, on my third day, I developed a Bali Belly, most likely from the water. Ketut and a few local women came by to check on me, bringing soup and a local remedy to drink. Although I had no idea what the remedy was, I felt much better the next day.

I spent a good amount of time alone on the island, focusing on being present and observing my surroundings. It had been many years since I experienced such a sense of space. After raising five children and working my way through school and a career, this solitude was a welcome change. While I feel very blessed to have what I do, it's rare to sit with oneself for an extended period. There were no TVs, no cell phones, no meetings or calls—just the present moment and observation.

Before heading to my final retreat, I said goodbye to my new friends and spent two days in Ubud. Ubud is a town surrounded by lush rice fields and steep terrain. The vibrant streets are filled with a variety of shops, yoga studios, temples, and music, where people from all walks of life gather and chat in outdoor cafés. Everywhere you look, you can see stunning murals and traditional Balinese architecture.

As I wandered through the enchanting streets, I was captivated by offerings made from palm leaves, flowers, rice, and incense. These tributes adorned doorways, statues, and temples, creating a beautiful array of colors and scents that reflected the spirituality of Balinese life.

In the heart of Ubud is the Monkey Forest, but I didn't find it to be one of my favorite places. The monkeys have become so accustomed to people that at times they can be aggressive, running up to you or hanging above you to grab whatever they can from your person. I chose to avoid this area.

One day, while walking through town, I noticed a woman in blue—Makeena, whom I had briefly met when I was in Nusa Lembongan. She spotted me across the crowded lines of scooters, and we decided to grab some coffee. After chatting with Makeena for over two hours, I learned that she had just turned 50. This successful businesswoman had decided to leave her corporate job to take some time to blog about her travels.

I found it interesting that I had met many women my age who were looking to reconnect with themselves after raising children and working in various careers. They were taking the opportunity to reflect and grow in areas they had put on hold while raising their families. Bali is a very safe place for women to travel alone, and it is quite common to see solo travelers, especially in larger cities like Ubud. Makeena and I still keep in touch, and I enjoy her blog very much.

My final training took me to Soulshine, just outside of Ubud. A few of the women I initially trained with also arrived, and we had fun catching up by the pool, sharing our adventures of the past 10 days after the first training session. This training was designed to allow time for relaxation and dancing, and boy, did we dance! Soulshine is a small retreat center surrounded by rice fields, featuring only 20 rooms, a yoga shala, two intimate pools, and a small restaurant with fresh food and personalized menus throughout the week.

We trained three times a day, and in between sessions, we found time to relax by the pool or enjoy some self-care at the spa. I ventured off the property a few times to explore local art galleries and to have an energy reading. This energy reading was an experience unlike any I had ever had before. The woman who performed it had created a healing space on top of her garage, which intrigued me. It was an incredibly hot day, and I must say I have never felt anything quite like the energy healing session; at one point, my body actually lifted off the table! I’ve heard that jumper cables may have been involved, but I'm not entirely sure about that!

Two nights in particular at Soulshine created memories that will last a lifetime. On the first night, the resort set up tables along the rice fields, elegantly adorned with linens and flowers. They also hung lights to create a magical atmosphere. A local Balinese performance group presented several traditional dances, adding to the enchanting experience.

The Kecak Dance features a chorus of men and boys chanting "chak chak" while enacting a dramatic narrative, often set against the backdrop of a temple or open space. The Barong and Kris Dance is a dance-drama depicting the battle between the mythical characters Rangda (representing evil) and Barong (representing good), typically performed during village temple ceremonies. The Legong Dance is a captivating royal court performance known for its intricate and fast-paced movements, usually performed by young female dancers.

It was a truly beautiful evening.

During our stay at Soulshine, we had the pleasure of getting to know Michael Franti, his wife Sarah, and their son. Michael Franti is an American singer, songwriter, musician, poet, activist, documentarian, and rapper, known for his involvement in many musical projects that emphasize political and social issues. Michael joined our morning practices, often picking up a guitar so we could all sing together. I frequently ran into Sarah on my way back from town, and we would look over the treasures I found from local artists. They were kind and down-to-earth people.

Michael Franti co-founded Soulshine Bali with his wife, Sara, with the vision of creating a haven for people to reset their lives. They emphasize the healing power of music and wellness practices while sharing the beauty of Bali.

On our last night in Bali, Michael invited the whole town and performed a private concert. His music is filled with love and inspiration. We filled the small grounds, and I danced in the pool for hours, listening to his words:

“Don’t give up when your heart is weary

Don’t give up when your eyes are teary

Don’t give up when your voice is trembling

When your life needs mending

Don’t give up when the hurt is near you

Don’t give up when the world seems to be broken

I’m still hoping

With my heart open

For a brighter day”

Since my trip to Bali, life has been challenging. A week after I returned home, my mother was diagnosed with leukemia. While I was in Bali, we wrote letters to ourselves that were meant to be sent a year later. When I received my letter, my mother had passed away just two weeks prior. In that letter, I expressed my desire to spend more time with her, unaware that the following year would bring many loving yet difficult days with my mom.

Perhaps Bali filled me with incredible love and a celebration of life, helping me find beauty and joy even amid loss. The experiences there reminded me that death is not an end but a transition, and celebrating life is a fitting way to honor those we have lost. The unique customs of Bali showcase the resilience, spirituality, and strong sense of community that define the Balinese people, inspiring me to share that love with my mother during her last year on Earth.

The Balinese people celebrate life, love, and community with warm hospitality that makes you feel at home. My often chaotic mind has found solace through yoga and Bhakti, the yoga of love, which has helped calm my inner storm. This sacred practice brings moments of clarity and acceptance as I journey through life.