A call to Java. Mysticism and sacred confusion.

I was on an ayahuasca retreat in Peru. I’d been sitting on my couch meditating for about a year, going through a deep internal process in a small town in the Andes and sick of it. Through a potent combination of medicine work and a spiritual community that didn’t hold me well, a deep vulnerability in my whole personality structure had been exposed raw and I’d been doing the deep, lonely work of restructuring my inner landscape. Each day I’d wanted to run away but when I checked in with my guides the answer was always ‘not yet’.

Then on this retreat, finally, a breakthrough. It came in as a trickle, a whisper. The mention of a Javanese tribe. It rang a bell for me. And within two days the answer was almost rhetorical: ‘why am I not in Java right now?’. On this retreat, a couple of deities confirmed the calling as linked to my destiny and so, I booked the flight. Within a month I was there.

I was called into a reading with a woman I followed on Youtube who works with dragons and is a high level psychic. I asked her about the trip and she confirmed some interesting past life linkages I had with that land back in the days of Mu and Lemuria. I was being called back by the land for this reason. They wanted to reactivate something in me and collaborate energetically with me in some way. She also said I would meet the mystic who would work with me to remind me of my old magic after three months in Indonesia.

So that was in my mind, as well as my goal to make my way into to this tribe to learn some healing techniques. Thing is, that’s not a straightfoward thing. It’s dangerous. Many work with black magick, so you need a teacher on the ‘white’ side, and that requires personal recommendation. As I was selling my Peruvian homewares on Facebook, the girl who came to pick up my stuff of course had connections in Java. She gave a name – an anthropologist who specialises in working with Javanese mystics. Of all the possible leads I could have needed, that was the one. And it was good because that was literally all I had to go on, I knew no one out there.

So I flew in to the city of Yogyakarta – a university city bustling with scooters and a vibrant cultural scene. It’s also home to two enormous temples, one Hindu and one Buddhist. And, as the ancient capital based at the foothills of Mount Merapi, is very much at the energetic epicenter of an already explosive island. It throbs with dragon energy. Westerners are incredibly rare, especially ones not linked to the university or something to do with the food industry I didn’t quite catch. Hardly anyone speaks English.

I met with my contact and he introduced me to his colleague – a friend who was also deeply on the spiritual path and who was a real support for me during my time there. And we made a rough plan where I’d be introduced to some of the mystics he knew and have a chance to work with them. One or two of them might have contacts with people connected with this tribe, even though they were based on a different island. I’d need to learn Indonesian though as they didn’t speak English either.

So I enrolled myself in Indonesian language classes and began passing my days mostly at the school, with the Australian diplomats and lovely teaching faculty. I’m not a big fan of cities so I didn’t do much else. I meditated a lot on my own. I sat in cafes. I delved into Javanese mysticism. And I was going through a really intense process with some star beings who kept working with me on levels I couldn’t quite grasp but could feel very tangibly. I felt like this time was some kind of weird holding pattern.

After a month or so I met my first Mystic. I ended up training with him for a while – learning Javanese martial arts and being initiated into various traditional forms of working with the spirits of the natural world. It was interesting but it wasn’t feeling like a long term alignment. And he was the one that maybe had the lead I needed but didn’t. Next I went to Mount Lawu, a mountain about three hours east of Yogja, also very powerful and mystical. I stayed with two other mystics there which was eye opening in it’s own way. The mystics there were practicing a very interesting fusion and there are still some villages tucked away that carry and actively practise a very ancient, pure form of Hindu tantra. I had the fortune of attending some of their ceremonies around their New Year.

Java has always been a real hybrid of spiritual influences. In ancient times Buddhists and Hindus would convene and cross-pollinate ideas and practices there. That’s why at each of the big temples I mentioned – Candi Pramanana and Borobudur – they also feature smaller temples in the other religion within their complexes. The lines between the two traditions are highly blurred. Throw in Java’s own ancient spiritual systems as codified in texts like the Primbon, which stem from even more ancient origins, and the pre-Muslim spiritual scene was vibrant and unique.

Even once the Muslims arrived and destroyed a lot of the old texts, the religion was integrated into the overall mix in a unique way. Java’s now a Muslim island but it has a very different cultural tone to Arab countries, and many of the mystics and more general spiritual practitioners alike in reality practice some kind of hybrid variant or another. This is a hot debate though which I’ll avoid wading into here, mostly through my own limitations in understanding of the nuances of it, and because it’s not really relevant for me anyway.

The more I spent time there, the more I was feeling the ancient connections with the land. It had been about two months by now, so I figured I still had a month before ‘my teacher’ showed up in my life. But something had shifted and my daily routine with the school was feeling out of date. I took some time to visit a lot of the temples in the vicinity which was very powerful, and to go to Mount Merapi. There, I took part in a shamanic ceremony, called a Jathilan, where they clear the spirits from the town by means of theatrical trance-dance in which the dancers get possessed and the spirits are then exorcised. It’s a very normal practice around those parts but very striking to witness.

But I had enough Indonesian by that point to get by so it was time to travel.

Gunung Padang

By now an adept at wandering without a plan, I tuned in. First stop was Gunung Padang. Gunung Padang is a mountain nearish to Jakarta on the West side of the island. Let me just say that Java is pretty big. I mean, it’s not Russia, but I’m from the UK and I’m used to a certain scale and ease in travelling around. Java’s not like that. The infrastructure is not great. It’s a challenge. So I zigzagged my way by train, local bus, and taxi, stopping at various towns and cities for a night on the way, and made it to a homestay near the site.

As the grassy peak of a mountain covered with a jumbled assortment of rubble that only vaguely indicates its former order, it’s not the most striking of sacred sites. But is the largest megalithic site in Southeast Asia. Nestled amongst volcanoes, it’s name, Mountain of Light, gives a glimpse of its energetic power. There’s a lot of history and controversy surrounding it but the thing that had piqued my interest was the mention of it actually being a pyramid underneath. When I got there, I meditated. Star beings again. A huge amount of extraterrestrial activity. A portal. I felt like I was being zapped by all kinds of cosmic signals, which I guess was a good thing but I’m not really sure. Undoubtedly I was called for some reason. So yeah that was the start of my trip. Having done that I was then confused. Now what? I listened.

Ok so it turns out I had a choice. The priority was that I get to Bali. I had to be there within two weeks. I could go the easy route and fly. Jakarta wasn’t that far away. Or I could make life complicated for myself and travel the whole length of Java and cross by boat, but I’d have to be quick. Of course, being me, I chose the second option. My heart was longing to reconnect with this land my soul was remembering.

Gedong Songo

I hacked my way once more by various transport modes over to the city of Semarang. There, the Chinese influence was much stronger than in Yogja and their dragon temples added even more colour to the already vibrant spiritual mix. But I didn’t have time to hang around and I harassed a taxi driver until he gave me a decent rate to drive me into the mountains to a powerful temple complex on the slope of Mount Ungaran. Gedong Songo is complex of nine Hindu temples built in the 8th–9th century dedicated to Shiva and Parvati. They’re some of the oldest Hindu structures in Java. I mounted my horse and began the route along the scenic mountain path, stopping at each temple and receiving messages and blessings. It was profound and I felt so connected with Universal Consciousness there I didn’t want to leave.

Dieng Plateau

But with my cosmic deadline looming, I had to. And I crossed the tobacco fields in the misty twilight to the sound of the Call to Prayer over to the Dieng Plateau. These are indeed the oldest Hindu temples in Indonesia (7th–8th century). They carry the essence of the Mahabharata, with temples dedicated to heroes such as Arjuna and Bima. Dieng means "abode of the gods" and the plateau is a volcanic caldera with hot springs, geothermal vents, and two sacred lakes (Telaga Warna — "Colored Lake" — and Telaga Pengilon — "Mirror Lake").

Following my heart’s satnav, the temples were amazing but what really spoke to me were the lakes. I remembered being there so long ago. I remembered who I was then. Working with maps of the stars and the land. Some of the technologies we had. This was why I’d come. I spent a blissful day by the lake basking in those energies. Then onwards.

Telaga Sarangan

There was a thing I needed to do with the Nagas. I crossed my way over to Madiun, stopping at the central point of Java which was a hill with a load of monkeys on it and meditating. For some reason that had to happen. Then carried on back to Mount Lawu, through Madiun, and veered south to a lake associated with serpent energy. Every once in a while I’ll get this where I need to leave them an offering so I bought a load of fruit and stuff and did a ritual on the banks. That was that. I think they were happy.

Mount Bromo

I was getting pretty far East by this point and next was the epic Mount Bromo. Most tourists go to see it. A steaming volcano with a commanding presence. I knew I had to go. Visiting is a bit of a rite of passage. You get there, wake up in the middle of the night and hike up a hill. It’s freezing cold. But the thing is I realised that was the easy option, it just takes you to the viewing platform. From there I had to get a scooter guy to take me to the ‘sea of sand’ – the place where they drop you off because you can’t drive it any further. Then you walk the rest in the dark. Stars overhead. Miles of sand dunes which are actually volcanic ash. Very Star Wars. You climb up and it’s hard to breathe because of the ash and the fumes. Then you’re on the edge of the volcano and you leave an offering and say a prayer – first to Ganesha who’s altar sits at the entrance, and then to the volano itself. The sunrise is breathtaking. It was a necessary and unforgettable part of the trip.

I'd done it. That was my list. I realised along the way that I was covering the whole length of the spine of the dragon of Java, stopping at each site as an energy center — aligning it with my own chakra system. The mapping was complete. And mostly, I felt like I'd honoured that land and whatever my soul was looking for. I made my way to the port. Time for Bali.