Bali. A Shaman. And My Little Girl

I thought I was about to be killed and I wouldn't get out of there.

This story was TOO crazy.

It was my first trip to Asia and my first solo trip.

I left the rice paddies behind while hundreds of unbelievable moments were passing through my head. I felt that I was a different Angy than the one who had arrived there 4 months ago.

I knew I would have a few hours left before heading to the airport so with the exhaustive energy that characterizes me, I squeezed my last exciting plan before leaving.

In Bali, there are many traditions of ceremonies and shamans who transmit their wisdom from generation to generation. Each shaman has his power of healing and his way of providing it.

You can find palm readers that can really impress you, healers of chronic pain, group sessions, individual sessions, or whatever you can think of. All of it.

And it all happens immersed in the joyful and serene energy of Bali.

I wanted to have one last authentic, spiritual, and healing experience and take all that serenity home with me.

Curse the day I had that idea...

Anyway, I made a dense study of rituals and shamans in Bali.

Among them, I found a shaman who apparently would connect with your past lives and provide deep healing from the traumas of your ancestors.

It was a ritual in front of the river, at a peaceful place, the woman even had a Hindu priestess title, which is a difficult title to obtain. It convinced me.

So far so exciting.

In my mind I imagined myself listening to the usual music they play at the Balinese spas while a loving shaman would tell me liberating words surrounded by rice fields and waterfalls.

Peace was already flooding me.

Well, expectations vs. reality served.

Breathe. Let's start.

I arrived a little late, the place seemed like a remote farm not easy to find.

I entered the house apologizing and I was greeted by a serious girl, very serious, pointing me towards some robes that apparently I had to put on and giving me soap to wash my hands.

I was obedient.

The shaman came out, imposing, with her tan skin, her bulging white eyes that I don't remember blinking once in 3 hours, her tunic, and her hair ornaments.

No one spoke.

She took me to an area where there was a kind of altar with water coming out of it.

Hell began.

I felt a stream of icy water over my head. And she began to flood me with cauldrons of icy water without letting me breathe. 4 cauldrons, 5 cauldrons, 6 cauldrons, 7 cauldrons...I started to count how long it would be before I would drown.

I felt her rage.

I tried to breathe but I swear I couldn't and she wouldn't stop. I couldn't find a place to stick my nose out and I couldn't open my eyes. I kept swallowing water.

I saw myself dead and my immediate reaction was to think: I shouldn't have been late and upset her.

Mea culpa.

Anyway, when I had already surrendered to death, she stopped. And without blinking she spoke for the first time. Madly.

- If you want to leave you leave now.

- You don't have to pay, you leave now and you don't heal, It's up to you.

I felt somewhat liberated because if she offered me to leave, maybe she wasn't a smooth killer after all.

My head was spinning.

If I want to leave? I mean, I can't breath, I am freezing and swallowing water which, by the way, might make me sick.

Why the hell did I come here in the first place? No one would notice my disappearance until at least 2 days later as everyone I knew in Bali would expect me to go directly to the airport from there.

Of course, I just wanted to run away while screaming HEEEELP!

I froze up, I held her gaze for I think 20 years or so until I said,

"I'm staying".

I prepared myself to die.

I don't really know how, it was the same stream of water and the same cauldrons but this time I felt it warmer and now I could breathe easily.

She let me go to dry myself to continue the ritual.

2nd hell was about to start.

If there is one thing that scares me in life, it is the dark. Ask my parents what a pain in the ass I've been all my life to get them to leave a light on for me. And if claustrophobia and darkness come together, forget about me.

- Come in.

Oh, my God, Is this when she's going to bury me alive?

She pointed at a dark, dwarf room. I calculated that there were at least 2 hours of ritual left. Was she going to keep me there? Was she going to recreate my worst nightmare?

Well, that seemed to be the plan for the afternoon, yes.

She left me there for what felt like an eternity to me. I thought about getting out and running away again shouting HEEEELP, but making her angry was probably not the best idea.

I remained motionless, praying for the time to pass and convincing myself that in 2 hours it would be over and I would soon be safe on the plane.

She walked into the room.

Was she going to chop me up and eat me? Would that be the tradition?

Me lying down. She started making strange noises and putting her hands on me, gently, without pressing.

First, she stayed on my head for quite a while and started burping. A lot.

Many burps followed.

Every part where she put her hands suddenly deflated and gave way to the greatest peace.

It was something I had never felt before. Nor after (spoiler that I didn't die that day in case you were thinking about it).

After 2 hours, the woman stepped back and began to sing.

She put a couple of candles and said to me, wait 2 minutes and come out. And if you want to make the offering (ie pay) leave it here, this is the image of the god of abundance.

Excited to be done, shocked by what I had experienced, and worried that my cab would never come back to pick me up at such a random spot, I got dressed and came out alive.

I just really wanted to leave and kill all the people who recommended the experience.

When I came out, and this was a surprise, I found the shaman smiling, and friendly.

She was different, she looked like a different person, she approached me warmly and said:

I am very sorry for how hard the session has been. I don't know if you are well informed about my gift, which comes from my mother, my grandmother, and 3 previous generations.

We feel what is inside people, we channel it and heal it.

Depending on who visits me sometimes I spend the whole session dead laughing, or crying, depending on what they transmit to me. It is something that I can not control.

The way I have treated you, with such harshness and ignoring your needs to the point of almost drowning, is a reflection of how you treat yourself.

And that is what we have healed today.

And so, freaking out, I went to the plane. For the first time, I had a stratospheric migraine that made me think that I might have been drugged.

A year later, my life had taken a 360º turn on many levels.

To choose one example, I remember that I used to be often lost in my head, thinking of the past, the future, whatever the person in front was thinking of me, what I would say right after that person stops speaking, never present.

That was gone.

It seems to me that I am talking about another person now.

After one year, I woke up one night in my sleep, I had just dreamt that the shaman appeared and asked me "How are you?"

The next morning I had a message on my phone:

I'm xxx, you came for a session a year ago and today I felt you, are you ok dear?

I really was ok.

The ritual was definitely NOT what I was expecting, nor relaxing or beautiful. I was also surprised about what she told me as I never found myself a grumpy person. Maybe I was angry for leaving Bali but nothing else that I could recall at that moment.

Was it still a worthwhile experience? You Judge.

I prefer not to provide her name but if you go to Bali and visit a shaman, make sure you treat yourself well beforehand just in case she is the one awaiting for you.

If you do, please tell me about your experience!

Now, I can not transmit whatever she did to me for healing but I can share with you the exact message she sent me before I got on the plane.

Here is the beginning of It.

Dear Angela, today you have been brave and you have faced the pain you carry from your ancestors. With this, you have healed yourself and you have healed them too.

Now, to continue a life of love and peace you must be brave again and forgive yourself.

Stand in front of a mirror and hold your gaze for 5 minutes. Ask these questions to yourself:

What makes me angry?

Why do I feel this way?

What thoughts come to me?

Do I compare myself with others and think they are better?

Do I criticize myself for doing something wrong?

Do I tell myself that I can't do it?

Do I think I am not enough for someone?

When you find it, and you can do this every time you feel angry, forgive yourself.

How?

Take a picture of yourself when you were little or visualize yourself at about 7 years old and imagine yourself in your room, in your room as a child.

Close your eyes.

If you see other people in the room ask them to leave. Leave her alone.

What was that little girl feeling?

Now embrace her, ask her forgiveness for having spoken badly to her so many times, for having forgotten her, for having left her dreams behind, for having allowed her to be treated badly, and promise her that from now on you will never leave her alone.

And with that promise, forgive yourself.

Every time you find yourself badmouthing yourself, think of that child and how you would treat her if she were the one who was wrong.

Let go.

There was more but only with that part, I believe that you can install that little girl/boy inside of you and switch from a painful life to a life of love automatically.

Even If you think you are all good, (I thought I was too) you might be surprised.

If you don't try, you can't judge, so why not? Netflix can wait.

Btw, It happens that I am going back to Bali tomorrow after more than 3 years. Should I pay her a visit and check how is my energy going now? Or better forget it and go for a nice massage?

See you next week to go back together to summers and the best days of our lives!

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