A Spiritual Cleanse

Water plays an important part in all our lives, but few cultures worship our inalienable connection to that element more than the Balinese.

I recently found myself as an unexpected guest in the company of one of Bali’s most revered high priests, Jro Mangku, at a Hindu shrine set in the enchanting grounds of COMO Shambhala Estate. For centuries, this ancient spring has marked the beginning of a journey of transformation for people in search of balance and healing. The sacred water flows from The Source through the entire Estate, filling its hydrotherapy pool, feeding its kitchens, supplying the showers in every room.

Quite aside from my own physiological reliance on water, I have always been drawn to those places from which it flows. In my work as an author, explorer and documentary-maker, I once walked the length of the River Nile, starting at its furthest source in the verdant hills of Rwanda. I’ve traipsed to the furthest reaches of the Amazon, ridden to the headwaters of the Oxus in Afghanistan, and dived into the mysterious sinkhole cenotes of Mexico’s Yucatán, often in search of treasure, though usually it comes in the form of a spiritual shift.

Back in 2012 I led an expedition to walk across Madagascar, a probable first from coast to coast. It was here that I cemented a firm friendship with Dr Kate Page. We’d served in the British Army together and our paths had crossed a couple of times before, but as the expedition medic, it was Kate I turned to whenever I needed a blister lancing — and on that trip, there were rather a few. Over the next decade, Kate and I became the greatest of friends. In fact, a few years after our Madagascar walk, in 2019, we travelled to Bali together to do some remote working. It was around this time that she was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

In her inimitable style she has braved it out in a way I couldn’t even imagine. And so, this year, as she reached a point in her treatment where things started to become very uncertain, I invited her to join me again — back to Bali, a place we both loved, as a way for us to reconnect with ourselves and nature. We would spoil ourselves with a stay at COMO Shambhala Estate, a sanctuary of tranquillity where both of us could focus on our friendship, as well as our creative lives, or whatever is left of them. I came to write a book about forests, although I’ll admit the authorial discipline dropped off with the prospect of a seemingly endless supply of massages, yoga classes and hydrotherapy sessions.

‘Are you ready for a spiritual cleanse?’ said Ayu, our villa host.

Kate and I looked at each other and shrugged. ‘Sure.’

Despite (and perhaps because) we were both Afghanistan war veterans, we’d opened our minds to all sorts of healing in recent years: gong baths, Tai Chi, sound healing, you name it. Anything to evolve, overcome, and be the best versions of ourselves. And also anything to give Kate some solace during her battle with cancer.

This time, the spiritual cleanse came in the form of a water ceremony.

We followed our host through the gardens, past ornate temples and walls covered in ancient mosses and giant ferns, down towards the crashing sound of the Ayung River with its magnificent waterfalls. COMO Shambhala Estate has harnessed the power of nature and crafted the most exquisite — and respectful — resort amongst the cliffs and trees. But even before the resort was established, the spring from which the water pours was a sacred, venerated site. Even now visitors share the place with local pilgrims who come to pray to their gods daily.

That made this ceremony even more special. This wasn’t something put on for the tourists. The Balinese recognise a host of deities, village gods, demons and angels, and yet I was informed that these are all simply names — representations limited by the mortal mind — of one creator.

The priest, an older man in a white robe, prepared us for the ceremony. First we stripped to sarongs and immersed ourselves under the cooling waters of the spring. We washed three times before being instructed to sit facing the shrine, our backs to the river. I immediately felt a profound sense of reverence.

The priest then led us through a series of rituals accompanied by the ringing of a bell. He chanted prayers, invoking the blessings of deities. The air became infused with the fragrance of incense, while in the near distance a flute player’s music added to the ambience. We presented flowers, and were blessed with the purifying water, allowing it to wash away any negative energy or emotional burdens we carried, offering ourselves to the transformative power of the ceremony.

I looked at Kate, her connection with nature palpable as she immersed herself, her serene smile speaking volumes. Regardless of the challenges she faced, her spirit remained steadfast, and the ritual seemed to invigorate her sense of vitality. I was reminded of an Indonesian proverb, ‘Life is like water, ever changing, ever flowing.’ The power of belief is central to Balinese Hinduism. Every house is a temple, and every day is a holy day.

In this sacred space, we experienced a brief glimpse into that deep spiritualism, absorbing the collective energy of the Balinese devotion, which is, at its heart, a devotion to all and everything that comes our way. It is about acceptance and release. In the flowing waters, I think we were both reminded of the interconnectedness of humanity and nature. There is no separation. In the captivating pools, Kate and I knew without speaking that we had found the treasures we were searching for: we are all mirrors of each other, and that only through connection may we find a deeper understanding of ourselves.