The mist lies thick outside the door. The thermometer shows below freezing in Oslo. I can’t help but long for Bali—for the warmth, the tropical rain showers, and the peaceful mornings at a café with my writing session. Sitting outside, with life unfolding around me at a slower pace.

Yes, I’m well into my next book. This time, it’s different. When I started my first novel, I had no idea what I was going to write about. Now I do. The plan was to outline the entire novel, but suddenly, the images stopped coming. I had to start with what I had. Maybe the book needs to take on a life of its own—just like last time, when tears streamed down my face as I wrote scenes I never saw coming. Maybe it’s just as well not to know everything in advance—it makes the writing process feel more alive.

But Bali wasn’t just about writing. After a couple of weeks, my daughter and her boyfriend arrived from Vietnam, and it was time to put the manuscript aside and experience the island with them. Out came the scooter, and I threw myself into the traffic again.

In Alchemy of the Hidden Spring, I write about our inner source—our life force—but also about how an external water source can affect us. In Bali, I experienced this in a new way through a traditional water blessing at Taman Beji Griya Waterfall, a sacred place just outside Ubud.

Perhaps you’ve read my blog posts about the air and water elements and how they relate to my novel? I write about how water can cleanse our emotions. Now it was our turn to experience this—at a real water source, where we would receive a blessing.

The english title Alchemy of the Hidden Spring, a name that reflects its essence even more clearly than the Norwegian title Life Force. While I primarily write about the inner source, I also touch on the outer one. In Bali, I witnessed how a physical spring can aid in healing and purification.

Our guide led us through the ceremony. We recited prayers at different stations before moving on to the water. At one point, I stood in front of a statue of Mother Bali, and the moment was magical. I felt a wave of energy rushing toward me, a deep sense of being welcomed. That’s how I experience the Balinese people as well—kind and welcoming, despite the overwhelming number of tourists visiting their island.

Then we entered the water, ready to let go of the old—what we no longer needed. We were given the opportunity to connect with both anger and joy. Strangely enough, the moment I stepped onto the grounds, I felt nauseous and unwell. But after going through the process, I felt clean, refreshed, and uplifted. Maybe the negativity surfaced as soon as I arrived, and I was able to leave it behind along the way?

In the days that followed, I noticed a shift. Things that had once felt challenging no longer did.

I told the woman I was renting from about the experience, and she nodded knowingly. Many have found help there, she said—but the prayers must come from within. It’s not enough to simply think about what you want. It has to come from a sincere inner desire.

Have you ever experienced nature—water, air, fire, or earth—helping you let go of something you no longer needed?

Feel free to share your experience in the comments.