She’s Electric. She’s got a family full of eccentrics…

I just met a lady called Asmawati, who has electricity coming out of her hands. Can I say that again? OK… I just met a lady called Asmawati, who has electricity coming out of her hands. It still sounds unbelievable, right? I wouldn’t believe it myself, if I hadn’t just experienced it first hand; if I hadn’t just lay on a table, in her house and felt her electric hands literally shock my heart chakra into shape. At least, I think that’s what she’s done. I swear to God, Asmawati, this beautiful, flowing-haired Balian just “healed” me with an electric massage that involved no devices whatsoever and absolutely no connections to any plug socket. She was the plug socket. And her husband, who stood dutifully next to her with his hand on her shoulder the whole time, appeared to be the grounding device for her electrical flow.

I was more than a tad nervous before she got started, as you would be. It was a bit like lying in the middle of a mini power station, waiting for my skin to start sizzling and my hair to go up in flames. On the contrary all I felt was calm as she began and even now, I’m riding a mellow vibe that I can only describe as being similar to the feeling you get when you take just a few hits of a joint. Sort of floaty light.

So what was the “electric massage” like on a physical level? Well, I felt a light heat when she touched me, almost like Asmawati was holding the flame of a candle over certain places on my body. When I opened my eyes I saw that it was just her small, womanly hands hovering over my skin, and occasionally massaging me gently. A lot of the time she had her eyes closed, like she was feeling the way, easing her way through the chaos of my clogged up chakras and smoothing them out like you would the creases in a fresh bed-sheet on a mattress.

The lady who first told me about Asmawati swore she saw lightning coming out of her fingers while she was at work. I’ve got to admit I never saw anything as exciting as that, although perhaps this lady had more physical issues to be addressed than me. I’m not sure what I would have done if I’d seen a giant lightning bolt leave a pair of human hands and enter my body anyway… I’m actually quite relieved I never got to find out, although the more I try to put what happened in that little house, in a little village into words, the more I’m lost for them. Lightning bolts or not, something just happened that any sane person would tell you shouldn’t be possible.

Just so you know, I’m not supposed to let on who this lady is, or how to find her. She has made it very clear, in an extremely lovely and polite way of course, that her powers are not to be abused. If too many people know what she can do, she’ll be forced to overwork out of the kindness of her own heart and her healing powers will deteriorate. Already, some tourists have located her out of intrigue instead of out of any real need for healing, and Asmawati is afraid her ever-flowing battery may somehow start to drain as a result of using her powers on the wrong people.

When I heard this, I felt guilty. I’ll admit, a blocked heart chakra isn’t really something I felt like I had in the first place (not that I know the symptoms) and even if I did, it wasn’t something I felt was hindering me on a daily basis. It wasn’t exactly living with eczema or psoriasis – just a couple of the conditions Asmawati has helped to cure. It’s just something that a friend suggested I might have had when I told her I couldn’t “let myself go” at the Ashram.

“Can’t feel a damn thing? Spiritually numb? You must have a blocked heart chakra!”

In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have even tried to unblock myself by requesting the electrical powers of a Balian. I was just fascinated when I heard about Asmawati from an expat Californian at writer’s group and went out of my way to track her down. I might add that the Californian was quite reluctant to pass these details on when I asked for them. It seems that most people are respecting Asmawati’s wishes to remain as anonymous as possible and I have since sworn not to let on who or where she is to anyone else, unless the person asking is in serious need of her help.

Anyone I try and tell outside of Bali will roll their eyes and try and put this electrical output from a human being down to some sort of trickery. But here, on the island of magic and mystery it’s acceptable to label it amazing and one hundred per cent a miracle, just like those few, insane moments at the Ashram with Ratu Bagus, when the divine Energy decided to make itself known inside me.

Anyway, whether it was right or wrong to satiate my intrigue and opt to have my chakras fixed with an electric massage, I definitely felt different in Asmawati’s hands. And honestly, lying on that table feeling the magic at work, I knew deep down that this humble, quiet, yet unquestionably charged woman and her attentive, rubber-shoe wearing husband are another two waking wonders here in Bali, proving that magic is real.