If you’ve read Eat Pray Love, you may remember Elizabeth Gilbert talking about the beautiful rituals of devotion that go on daily in every corner of Bali. It’s quite remarkable when you stop and really pay attention to the unhurried dedicated practice at the core of Hindu family life that is most obvious here.

Nobody is rushing through the laying out of offerings because the kids have to get to soccer practice. The offerings to all the Gods IS the priority of the day, the rest is expected to fall into place as a result of that tending. The whole family understands this.

Girls start to learn how to make the offering baskets out of palm leaves and bamboo at the age of 6 and it becomes a daily practice from then on and as they leave their own home to dwell in their husband’s family compounds with a new temple to attend.

One of the greatest lessons Bali has to offer clients who come on retreat, and who don’t even know it’s what they came for, is what it looks and feels like to be in the moment, the here and now. Unhurried, undistracted, unambitious. Just here, now. The most beautiful and abiding example is the Balinese devotional way of life.

It’s a sensory feast. The curls of the delicate and often elaborate palm leaf offering basket that would fit in your hand are filled with flowers of yellow, white, blue and red, and a bit of rice. It is placed at a doorway, alter or walkway of a resort, family compound or village street. The offering is activated with fragrant incense plumes that alert the otherwise distracted visitor that spiritual caretaking is underway- desirable and undesirable spirits and gods are being attended to. Imagine this happening at the Hilton in your city.

Intention takes on a whole new dimension. The Balinese stop what they are doing, or rather their day not only includes but is planned around these rituals, to fulfill a task so peaceful and holy as naturally as the sun moves across the sky.

We were privileged enough to come early for a High Priest blessing and watch as the husband and wife who hold the position in that town prepared Holy Water. It was astonishing.

For over an hour each morning, with hair pulled up into a floral crown they sit cross legged in their traditional white sarongs at a compact table set with a bowl of the sweetest smelling flowers, a container of water, a prayer bell, burning incense and a treasure of memorized ancient chants and prayers with which to combine them.

Carefully a flower is placed between wrinkled steady fingers, pulled through the fragrant smoke, arms held high with the flower above their heads, chants sung with closed eyes, and then the cleansed blossom is dropped into the water bowl.

Alternately, the bell would be rung in the left hand while a prayer is spoken, and then secret symbols are deftly made with the right hand onto the palm of the left. Another flower is picked up and anointed with the blessings to cleanse, then dropped into the water until eventually the bowl is stuffed to capacity with an aromatic bounty of colour.

Holy water is used in all blessing and cleansing ceremonies that involved High Priests and by women and men each day two times a day in every family compound and work place all over the island. Villagers come to the High Priest family compound to get their Holy Water for their own family temple upkeep. They'll often linger to receive a blessing.

In ceremonies, the devotee sits or stands in front of the High Priest and the most fragrant of blooms, like a robust giant jasmine, is dipped into the water and used to sprinkle the water with a confident flick of the wrist while prayers are chanted.

With cupped hands, right over left, the handful of Holy Water is brushed upwards on the face and over the hair three times followed by three times downward. The mouth is rinsed out with the water then spat out. The offered water is sipped from cupped hands three times for internal cleansing. Flowers are placed behind ears and on top of a head, and then rice dipped in the water is offered to pinch into place on the forehead, base of the neck, with a few grains remaining to swallow unchewed.

This blessing is how many start each day, with intentionally cleansed eyes, ears, mouth, mind and heart. Nobody is thinking about what to make for dinner that night. This cleansing is fundamental to ensure the quality of the day is intact- the Balinese are motivated to be present and accounted for mentally and emotionally.

Just watching is instructional in calmly focusing on the task at hand while allowing the intention of the action to come through and be received. Eventually participants absorb the model of being present and slow down into Bali mode.

We notice the constant sound of the surf outside the bungalow, accompanied by the chirp of a bird or frog or cricket that changes volume as the day passes into night. The sparkling raindrops hanging from a spider web begin to inspire more than alarm and caution.

Food tastes exquisite with each bite delivering a different array of spices. Hot beach stones prompt the quick splashing of feet into the salty froth of the Bali Sea surf. A cooling breeze brings a welcome respite from the noonday heat while lounging in a hammock that sways gently on the terrace.

Loving hands spread healing massage oils over relaxed limbs in rhythmic motion that soothes away the residual stresses of home. The afternoon rain arrives like an additional member of the group, coming in and out to provide another textured layer of awareness of the sensual parade the island provides.

In this lullaby of sensations we find room to feel the feelings that come and go like the tide under the waxing moon, and discover we are OK. Because feelings do come, and then go. When in the moment, that shift is felt. It’s the reward for being present for the release and the relief.

Perhaps all is well right here right now. Might as well notice and enjoy.