The Balian River holds a secret. One that is never spoken aloud, yet everyone senses when watching its slow course, its misty mouth, or the way it meets the ocean as if recognizing an old friend. In front of Yama, this river is not only part of the landscape—it is part of the experience.
Its name is no coincidence. Balian means healer or shaman in Balinese. In local tradition, illness or misfortune is seen as a sign of imbalance. To restore it, one does not only seek medicine: one seeks meaning. One seeks harmony. And often, one seeks a balian.
For generations, this river has been a place of healing. Balinese families brought their sick to its waters in search of a deep cleansing—both physical and spiritual. It was believed—and many still believe—that the river has the power to purify what cannot be seen. Not out of superstition, but out of connection. With the earth, with the soul, with something greater.
Here, too, during the days of the Majapahit Hindu kingdom, the Balinese community defended its spirituality against outside invasions. The river was both frontier and refuge, a witness to a quiet resistance that can still be felt in its energy.
It is no accident that Yama was built facing this river. This decision was not only architectural but deeply symbolic. From the first sketch, we knew the river should become part of daily life: visible from the shala, the gardens, the common spaces. Its constant presence infuses the atmosphere with movement, renewal, and balance.
The practices at Yama, meditation at sunrise, yoga, or a conversation beneath the tree, are always accompanied by its gentle flow, as if the entire space were breathing with the rhythm of the water.
The river sets the pulse of the day. At dawn, its murmur echoes the deep breaths taken on the mat. At dusk, its reflection casts new light into the meditation space. In between, its energy sustains the natural rhythm of each retreat. A silent guide, reminding us that everything flows—even when we remain still.
While staying at Yama, the Balian River becomes more than a view—it is an invitation. You can swim in its refreshing waters, glide across its surface on a paddle board, or simply sit in stillness as the light changes through the day. Each encounter, whether active or contemplative, is a chance to experience the river’s timeless presence in your own way.
