A Spiritual Death in Bali
I landed in Bali, a place I imagined would echo the spiritual richness of my past experiences in India and Peru. Instead, as I checked into the Yoga Barn in Ubud, a creeping sense of doubt began to overshadow my excitement.
As someone who experiences some pretty intense battles with anxiety, I dismissed these all-too-familiar feelings and found myself on a two-day Spiritual Awakening workshop. An hour into the workshop and life changing results were not just promised — but guaranteed if you are but open enough to take the leap. That niggling voice in the back of my head hit me up again: what have I gotten myself into here? Would this be a spiritual death rather than an enlightened awakening?
Doctrines and dangerous simplicity
The teachings, rife with oversimplifications, starkly contradicted my personal experiences and outlook on the world. Familiar philosophies from past yoga courses reappeared, a lack of depth that I questioned then, now more apparent and unsettling.
Ready to change your life? Here we go.
1. Everything that happens to you is the result of what you personally manifest
At first glance, there’s a kernel of truth in this idea: a positive mindset can indeed influence our experiences and interactions. When you’re in a happy and optimistic mental state, the world seems to respond in kind. You might notice small acts of kindness more frequently, succeed more regularly at work, and enjoy fulfilling relationships without conflict.
However, when you examine this idea more deeply, it quickly unravels. Consider those living with neurodivergent conditions who find daily interactions and societal norms overwhelmingly difficult to navigate. Or look at the people of Palestine, living under constant threat and horror, or the women of Afghanistan, whose fundamental rights are stripped away under oppressive regimes. Their hardships are an imposition of circumstances far beyond their control.
When I raised these points, hoping for a nuanced discussion, I was met with a dismissive response that sidestepped these complex realities. The instructor’s conclusion? That my supposed empathy should drive me to action rather than to question.
2. Hardship is a choice: it is your responsibility to change the circumstances of your life
This much is true: there is a degree of personal agency in how we respond to life’s challenges. However, when applied to severe and systemic hardships, this philosophy cannot ring true and, in fact, veers toward victim blaming. Think of a young girl in a rural Indian village, forced to marry at 15 and a mother of four by the age of 20, who cannot read or write and has no support or power in her community. What choice does she truly have? Her circumstances are imposed by the powerful societal structures around her. To suggest that her hardships are anything otherwise is to ignore the external forces at play.
When this point was raised, the so-called spiritual master’s response was again dismissive: everything in this fictional girl’s life was deemed her choice. Such an answer not only sidesteps the complexities of socio-economic and gender inequalities but also trivialises the extreme struggles faced by many.
3. That it is necessary to have a goal in life, and that goal is centred on finding a purpose
Initially, the idea of having a life goal centred on finding one’s purpose seems motivating. It encourages a vision of life where we strive to discover our unique path, often defined in terms of career achievements and societal recognition. However, as I reflected on what the hell really is the true meaning of life, I came to the conclusion that perhaps there is no singular goal. The meaning of this existence might be to simply exist, to be and to experience.
As these thoughts ran through my head — hesitant to publicly question another philosophy of the workshop — another member of the group voiced this exact opinion. ‘There is no purpose to life,’ she said to the leader. He scoffed, dismissed her, and continued to preach.
But, surely, the point of life is only ever the present experience. Does a bird worry about what the other birds think of them? Is a tree ever looking to its bigger, brighter, more lush neighbours and yearning to be something else, something better?
My mind ran back to Alan Watts, a key thinker who challenged the notion that we must achieve or find a conventional ‘life’s purpose’. He suggests that the essence of life is to experience and enjoy being part of the world around us, not to stress over proving our worth through accomplishments. “When we dance, the journey itself is the point,” he said. “As when we play music the playing itself is the point. And exactly the same thing is true in meditation. Meditation is the discovery that the point of life is always arrived at in the immediate moment.”
4. #relationshipgoals are having a passionate relationship which does not fade over time
The workshop strongly advocated the idea that securing a life partner is beneficial and essential for one’s emotional and psychological well-being. The leader further romanticised this concept by suggesting that ideal relationships must sustain a fiery passion and an undiminished sexual desire over the years.
Sure, a desire for a deep, romantic connection is natural for many. But this perspective imposes a narrow definition of happiness and success in personal relationships. It suggests that single individuals or those in less passionate but deeply supportive relationships must be improved. There were plenty of single women in that room, many of whom were in their 40s and 50s. Should they feel like failures or that their life is lacking?
This one overlooked how people find fulfilment and happiness within and outside of romantic relationships. The reality is that relationships are as diverse as the individuals in them, no single model fits all, and we undoubtedly do not need a romantic partner to be fulfilled in life.
5. Ritualistic blessings can change your life
The workshop concluded with a ritual described as ‘blessings’. The leader and his two assistants placed their hands on our heads for a few moments while we were all collectively meditating. This act was presented with the grand promise that it would, quite literally, transform our lives.
I mean… where to start? Firstly, the lack of explanation about these blessings’ nature and supposed efficiency leaves much to question. Without understanding the mechanisms or the intentions behind such practices, we were all left to unquestioningly trust in their transformative power.
Promising life-changing results from such a ritual also play into the broader issue of commercialised spirituality, where profound experiences are commodified as quick solutions. The suggestion that a brief, unexplained ritual can have such significant life-altering effects undermines the complexity of personal growth and change.
As much as we all wish for a magic wand to solve our problems — myself included! — the journey of healing or spiritual growth cannot be shortcut by quick fixes or superficial gestures. True change typically involves a deep, often challenging process of self-reflection, learning, and unlearning.
The aftermath
Amidst a debate, a devout attendee took it upon himself to m̶a̶n̶s̶p̶l̶a̶i̶n̶ explain the key points to me. Despite my direct involvement in the discussion, I was overlooked for a microphone while he was promptly equipped to ‘educate’ the room. Embarrassed and more than irritated, I found myself nodding and offering a thin smile of thanks — a courtesy that betrayed my honest thoughts and feelings.
And so the first day of the workshop concluded with a bitter taste of disappointment and frustration. I was struck by the leader’s audacity and ego. Like me, many people in the room were grappling with significant personal challenges, and the simplistic solutions offered felt more exploitative than enlightening.
These experiences weighed heavily on my mind as I left the venue, yet a part of me questioned if I had missed something. Of course, different ideas work for different people. Was there more to understand? Was my mind too spiritually unevolved, too entrenched in Western ideologies, to grasp the concepts being presented?
With a mix of hope and scepticism, I returned the following day, only to find the discussions veering further from the authenticity I was looking for, driving home the realisation that this form of spirituality was not for me.
Finding solace in storytelling
That night, back in my room, I reached for a book that had travelled untouched in my backpack for weeks — Khaled Hosseini’s A Thousand Splendid Suns. This novel, set against the backdrop of a tumultuous Afghanistan, unfolds the harrowing lives of Mariam and Laila, whose stories of brutal subjugation starkly oppose the oversimplified doctrines of the workshop.
Mariam, an illegitimate child forced into a punishing marriage, and Laila, a bright young woman thrust into unimaginable circumstances, embodied the very counterarguments to the workshop’s teachings. Their suffering, imposed by cultural, political, and historical forces, was clearly not a choice or a manifestation of their mindset.
As I turned the pages, their resilience struck a chord. This moment of literary escape didn’t just soothe; it illuminated the extreme disconnect between the supposed spiritual enlightenment at the workshop and the gritty reality of human endurance.
Luc van Donkersgoed once said that collecting books should not be seen as a gnawing reminder of your ‘to read’ pile. Instead, it should be seen as a “wine cellar. You collect books to be read at the right time, the right place, and the right mood.” It felt like fate that it was this night that I chose to open that book.
So, do I bid farewell to spirituality?
Workshops like this one are enough to put anybody off exploring spirituality. And I get it: I’m into this topic, but this experience was a huge disappointment and a clear reminder of how detached some spiritual teachings can be from the complex realities of human existence. For me, true spiritual insight should foster understanding, curiosity, compassion, and a realistic appreciation of life’s challenges — not offer oversimplified and potentially harmful ideas that completely ignore the depth of human suffering and the overwhelming diversity of human experiences.
In the end, the beautiful wisdom found in the pages of Hosseini’s novel offered a much-needed perspective. So, I guess the workshop wasn’t a complete flop. It helped reinforce my belief that true enlightenment comes from embracing all aspects of life, acknowledging its intricacies and injustices, mystery and magic, and finding compassion and gratitude rather than escaping into comforting but often extremely misleading narratives.
So no, it’s not the end of my journey into the spiritual realm. But it has certainly informed my choices going forward.