Health, Clarity, & Money

I always believed that the spirit domain. And all those things we call supernatural were part of the natural world that we hadn't yet come to understand.

A parallel dimension is usually concealed from view by a shroud of the unknown or held at bay by a wall of taboo and fear.

From time to time. We all have glimpses of the other side: a burst of creativity. A brilliant idea. A moment of profound clarity, a "feeling" that prompts us to action, or a stunning "coincidence." So common are these occurrences that most of us think little about them.

I was getting settled into a daily routine. Apart from the inconvenience of light bulbs burning out. Occasional interference with the internet connection in my Bali guest house quarters. There were no further complaints from my guests about negative energy flow. Or other unusual phenomena.

For the most part, things seemed to be running well. I could only assume, then. I was the intended target of the unexplained incidents occurring with increasing frequency.

At first, it was little things dismissed. The keys to my scooter started disappearing. Only to turn up back on the table where I always left them. Well, I was starting to get a little absent-minded. Sometimes, when going to brush my teeth in the morning, I would find my toothbrush lying on the left side of the sink. I am right-handed and always leave it on the right side. So I began to think my mind was playing tricks on me. That was an easier explanation to deal with than the possible alternatives.

When these minor disturbances started to occur they became more difficult to explain. Like the G string on my guitar plucked itself at 2 a.m. The first couple of times I heard it. I thought I was dreaming or had misinterpreted what I'd heard. When it happened night after night. There was no denying the source of the sound. Although the cause remained undetermined.

Before long, the nighttime activity increased. And, along with it. I was once again plagued by restless dreams. Such that it was sometimes hard to define the boundaries between sleeping and waking.

Often during the night, I would hear the windows rattling. I assumed it was the wind, but on one occasion the rattling was so loud that it woke me from a sound sleep.

When I got up to investigate. I discovered that the night was calm, without so much as a whisper of air to stir the palm leaves. I checked the windows and found them all closed. I sat for a while in the darkness.

Fighting unsettled feelings before finally returning to bed. I tried to put the incident out of my mind. The following night awakened by what sounded like voices coming from outside.

I considered that it was revelers at a nearby resort. The voices seemed to be getting closer and louder, but I couldn't make out any words. When I finally went out to the patio to see what was going on. To my surprise. The voices fell silent and there were no lights. No other evidence of activity at the resort or neighboring villas. I was beginning to suspect that I wasn't alone.

A few nights passed without incident. Then again awakened in the night, this time by the sound of something crashing to the floor. I ran to the kitchen still half asleep. Reached to turn on the light. Expecting to find that some nocturnal rodent had breached the walls. And was making itself at home in my kitchen.

When I hit the switch, nothing happened. In the dim light of the moon that poured through the window. I saw the shattered fragments of a coffee mug lying in the middle of the floor.

Out of the corner of my eye. I thought I detected some vague movement. Not like that of a small animal as I had expected. More like the movement of a large curtain rippling in an evening breeze. Except that there was no curtain and no breeze.

When I turned to see what it was, there was nothing there. I cleaned up the mess on the floor as best that I could in the near darkness and then, puzzled and annoyed, I returned to bed.

Sleep escaped me.

Replaying in my mind the almost daily episodes of unexplained goings-on. Wondering what they had to do with me. Invisible entities had been my companions at some level ever since I'd arrived in Bali.

There was a different feel about the more recent experiences. I decided that my unwelcome co-occupants. Whoever or whatever they may be. Had overstayed their welcome. A task that proved to be easier said than done. It wasn't that I was afraid. Irritated a better description. The incessant disruptions, believing that I had better uses for my time and energies.

Wayan, my guest house helper, had often referred to the presence of spirits. I confided in him my recent experiences. Asked his opinion of the situation and if he could offer any advice about how to deal with it.

He seemed to shrug it off with only a suggestion that finds an answer during my meditations. I thought it odd that he offered so little input. He had always seemed attuned to the realm of spirit. I told him I would try that. I couldn't help feeling that he was holding something back. A feeling was reinforced by his avoiding eye contact whenever I approached the subject.

"Wake up, Bro," Wayan shouted as he shook my shoulders. "You are fighting in your sleep."

I awoke from my afternoon groggy nap rubbing the back of my neck. Wayan reminded me that it was time for my foot massage therapy with the village healer, Sapar.

I had dislocated my toe earlier by stomping around the house. I thought my toe had healed, but it became worse.

Sapar

Sapar, who I would describe as a Balinese, metaphysical chiropractor. If I asked him. He could also analyze my chakras or read my palm like the other healers that entertained tourists.

Sapar was a dedicated local village healer and practiced his art as a Gods given talent. Not for profit.

Wrapped in his healer clothes; a reddish-orange sarong, black-and-white udeng, and white shirt. He was 30-something; narrow, with sturdy legs, and a brown, thick chest. He bore a confident expression and spoke with a strong voice.

He was sitting upright with his bare feet on a straw mat inside his family's temple. Within arm's reach was a bamboo plate filled with herbs, tiny bells, holy water, and burning incense sticks. Putu, his young and refined wife, sat nearby like a nurse assistant and looked on. Sapar bowed his head and displayed a full set of white teeth.

"Selamat sore," (good afternoon) I greeted Sapar and sat down in front of him in the late afternoon sun. He immediately had a close look at my foot and relayed to Wayan that I was late to return for my therapy session. I could tell by the look in his brown, experienced eyes that he was scolding me.

He went to work on my foot and I braced myself for the torture test. With both hands, he rubbed in scented oil. Next, he began to pull and push my toe along the joint.

After several minutes of excruciating pain, he gave the diagnosis. The cuneiform bone. That sat behind the big toe joint. Inflamed and raging with the residue of an out-of-control bad spirit.

Instead of sitting there and crying like a baby, I thought to tell Sapar about the demon(s) that inhabited my villa. The question was handed off to Wayan like a soccer ball. He translated the words and gave the question a lateral pass on to Sapar.

Sapar thought about it for a moment. Without looking up from my foot, he said to Wayan as he pulled on each of my little toes, " little demon."

Amused, but not convinced he knew what he was talking about, I told him to go on.

"You lose something?" he probed.

"I have lost many things," I told him.

"The demon feeding on your sense of loss like suckerfish," he said through Wayan.

"How so?" I asked.

"I sense you are lonely. You look for an answer like a dog chase tail…. never catch." He paused to give my foot a vice-grip squeeze, "You feel that?"

"Yes," I screamed.

"The demon in your villa has entered your body through the sole of your foot. It will make a nest in your mind like a rat," he counseled.

"Do you have an answer for my demon?" I said, intrigued.

"Give it a name. Call it out before you sleep. Before you meditate… before you bathe… evoke its name and call it out," Sapar prescribed.

"How do I know what name to call it?" I said.

From his medicine tray, he gave me a handful of what looked like tea leaves. "Sprinkle the plant over your toes every day and meditate."

Sapar and Wayan went back and forth. Getting the translation of the directions straight.

"The demon has left your foot and made its home in your mind." He pointed at my head. "I give you blessing and the herbs will help."

He chopped off the top of one yellowish-orange-colored coconut and poured out its milk into a bowl. He cupped his hand into the bowl and started to chant; the coconut milk sprinkled over my toe. "Foot not better in three days come back. The demon is your battle."

I thanked Sapar along with a small donation for his work and limped back to the motorbike. That night I lay in bed and thought about what to name my demon.

I sprinkled the leaves over my feet and went to sleep.

For the next couple of weeks. I devoted extra time and energy to the demon. During my daily meditation. I visualized a shield of bright light covering my villa and garden. When this seemed to have no effect, it occurred to me that I'd gotten a little ahead of myself.

My next tactic was to try and figure out how to get them/it to leave. I should create a hostile spiritual environment, so to speak. I didn't want to run off any good spirits that were hanging around. I realized I was not well equipped for such a battle. I recalled my quest and thought how no one can equip me for encounters with the unknown. Some things are only learned through experience.

I needed to call out its name. I shouted. "I'm lonely!" After I said that the bumps in the night stopped. Sometimes the most elusive answers are parked at the end of the nose.

Was there magic to overcome my insecurity?

With that in mind, I tumbled into bed, where I stared at her picture. I sprinkled more leaves over my toe. Drifted off to the vocal styling of a croaking colony of frogs that had congregated in my pond.

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