Why Balinese Gardens Are Designed Like Temples

There is a certain kind of silence you feel in a Balinese garden.

Not emptiness. Not stillness. But presence. A subtle awareness that you’ve stepped into something sacred. You may not hear chanting or see priests. But somehow, your breath slows, your shoulders soften, and your feet tread a little more carefully.

It’s because a Balinese garden isn’t just a beautiful place.
It is a temple without walls.

A Garden Rooted in Belief

The foundation of Balinese garden design is not aesthetic—it's philosophical. The concept that shapes everything from the placement of a statue to the flow of water is called Tri Hita Karana, which means “three causes of well-being.”

These three causes are:

• Harmony with God (Parahyangan)

• Harmony with humans (Pawongan)

• Harmony with nature (Palemahan)

In a true Balinese garden, all three must be in balance. Which means:

• Plants are not just decoration, they are living offerings

• Paths are not just for walking, they represent journeys

• Water is not just aesthetic, it is purification and life-force

Every garden is a reflection of cosmic balance.

The Garden as a Sacred Space

Just as temples in Bali are divided into three sections—outer, middle, and inner sanctum—a Balinese garden often mimics this layout.

• The outer area is the entry path, open to all

• The middle space may include pavilions or communal spots

• The inner garden, sometimes hidden or elevated, is where the sacred is most concentrated

These layers are not just spatial—they are spiritual thresholds. Each step inward is a movement closer to the divine. Just like entering a pura (temple), entering a garden is an act of reverence.

The Role of Water – Not Just a Pond

Walk into any traditional Balinese garden and you’ll likely hear the trickle of water. It may be a pond, a stone spout, or a small irrigation canal.

This isn’t just for ambiance.

In Balinese philosophy, water is sacred. It represents:

• The flow of life energy (prana)

• The connection to holy springs and mountains

• The cleansing of mind and spirit

It’s no coincidence that water flows beside shrines, beneath pavilions, and near sacred plants. Every drop is a blessing. And when a visitor pauses beside the water, they’re not just admiring—it’s a moment of internal stillness.

Plants with Purpose

Unlike Western gardens that may focus on blooms or symmetry, Balinese gardens prioritize spiritually symbolic plants.

You’ll often find:

• Frangipani (Jepun): Used in offerings, its fragrance is considered sacred

• Bamboo: A symbol of strength and spiritual flexibility

• Banana trees: Linked to fertility and often placed near family shrines

• Lotus: A classic representation of enlightenment, rising pure from the mud

• Ti plants (Andong): Planted for protection against spirits

Each plant has function and meaning. Some are used in daily offerings, others are believed to ward off negativity. But all of them form part of a living temple.

Sacred Geometry in Design

If you look closely at the structure of a Balinese garden, you’ll notice it often follows mandala-like layouts, reflecting:

• Cardinal directions (north, south, east, west)

• Balance of elements (earth, water, fire, air)

• Orientation to holy mountains (like Mount Agung)

This is no coincidence. In Bali, the direction you face when praying, sleeping, or planting matters.

So a garden’s orientation is not about views—it’s about alignment. Shrines often face mountains, water features point to sacred directions, and trees are placed where their energy can flow freely.

The Presence of Statues and Altars

In many Balinese gardens, you’ll find stone statues—often of Hindu deities, mythological creatures, or ancestral guardians.

But these are not simply garden ornaments.

A Ganesh statue at the entrance invokes removal of obstacles.
A Barong protects against spiritual imbalance.
A simple offering altar (sanggah) reminds residents to honor the divine daily.

These elements don’t turn a garden into a temple. They reveal that the garden already is one.

The Role of Human Hands – A Daily Offering

What keeps a Balinese garden alive isn’t just soil or sunlight—it’s devotion.

Each morning, a family member—often a woman—will walk through the garden placing canang sari, small floral offerings, at statues, altars, corners of the yard, and even at the base of trees.

The act is silent, slow, intentional.

And in this way, the garden is constantly being blessed, renewed, and activated. It becomes a living prayer, not a passive design.

A Personal Experience – Walking Through Sacred Ground

During a visit to Sidemen, I stayed at a traditional homestay surrounded by an expansive Balinese garden. At first glance, I admired the lotus pond, the curved stone paths, and the ancient trees.

But after a few days, I realized something deeper.

In the early mornings, the air was so serene I could hear the soft splash of koi fish and the whisper of incense smoke rising from small altars. The staff didn’t “tend” the garden—they moved through it like caretakers of a shrine.

I began to mirror their rhythm. My walks became slower, more observant. I stopped checking my phone. I began placing my own intentions near a frangipani tree each sunrise.

That garden changed me.
Because it wasn’t just beautiful—it was wise.

Modern Villas, Ancient Souls

Today, many luxury villas in Bali incorporate Balinese garden elements into their design. But not all preserve the spirit behind the form.

A pool may be shaped like a temple, but if it lacks ritual, it remains just a pool.

The challenge—and opportunity—for modern design is to honor the intention, not just the style. To remember that what makes a Balinese garden sacred is not how it looks, but how it’s used—with daily reverence, alignment, and purpose.

Why the Garden Is a Temple

It’s tempting to separate the sacred and the secular—to say temples are for gods, and gardens for people.

But Bali teaches us otherwise.

In a true Balinese garden:

• The sacred flows through the soil

• Beauty serves belief

• Space becomes ceremony

It is not that temples inspired gardens. It’s that both come from the same root: a worldview that sees spirit in everything.

And so the garden becomes a temple not because of altars—but because of how we walk through it.

Cultivating Sacredness

So next time you find yourself in a Balinese garden, don’t just take a photo.

Pause at the edge of a pond.
Touch the rough bark of a sacred tree.
Watch how the morning light rests gently on a lotus leaf.

And ask yourself:

• What would change if I treated this not as landscape—but as living temple?

• What if every garden I touched—whether in Bali or beyond—was tended with the same intention, balance, and gratitude?

Because maybe the real lesson isn’t just how Bali designs gardens.
But how Bali sees life itself as a garden—to be nurtured, honored, and walked through with reverence.