Learning, "Om Myself Namah:"

So this morning I woke up at 4a.m. I couldn’t get back to sleep, but a part of me did not want to go back. My mind has been so full of so much stuff since I got back.

For those of you who did not know, I just came back from the most incredible experience of my life. 

You’ll probably notice in the posts to come how I have changed. I admit it. I feel like the same person I have always been… yet so different. Calm, yet so energized.  So focused, but somehow a little lost.

It’s like the more answers you get, the more questions you have!

I can’t even begin to explain it. In fact, I have thought for quite a few days about how I can actually formulate a method to put it all into words so that people reading it can get 1/236094^th the understanding for it.

This morning I spent an hour doing pranayama, 30 minutes of meditation, 45 minutes of yoga and then did jal neti (water neti) and sutra neti… I will explain this one in a later post. I did all of this hoping that I could somehow find a way to talk about this last experience in a way that would move people reading this to understand, or even feel what I underwent these past 6 weeks.

I have decided - It’s not possible.

I thought- perhaps I should begin with once upon a time because it really started out being like a fairy tale.

Then I said… no… because fairy tales aren’t typically real. (I mean unless you’re under heavy influence of LSD, Crystal Meth, or drinking Liquid Drain-o).

Then I thought… hmm… drank some chai and figured screw it… I will just do what I know how to do best: speak from the heart.

For those of you that know me know that for a majority of my life I have always had a passion for culture, spirituality and travel. I have always had a (what people would say odd) fascination with India.

Like a moth to a flame, or a crack-head to a pipe – it intrigued me.

The music, the people, the languages, the religions, and the food… basically everything India was everything I wanted to know more about.

When I traveled for work, I never had the opportunity to journey into the world of India.

Part of me was happy that it had never happened; I was secretly afraid that all I knew, and felt in my heart would be wrong.  I was afraid that the reality of what truly was India would crush that fantasy of beauty, mysticism and contrast.

Others that know me know my fascination with yoga and meditation. For those that have recently come to know me may think that this is an “of recent” obsession, but those who have known me for a long long time know that these things – especially meditation have always been a HUGE thing for me. 

When I was 18, perhaps 19, my best friend and I were talking about going and getting certified as yoga instructors in Costa Rica.  Whatever events happened, and she and I were not able to go.

In a previous relationship, I was teased (hopefully it was all in jest) about how I would meditate about everything before I had any actions that followed.  Though I did meditate quite often – at least for a non-monk – I did not meditate as much as the statement sounded.  However, I still meditated FAR more than the average person.

Fast forward what feels like 1,000 years I am booking a ticket to,  and a school to study in the birthplace of yoga.

Every emotion possible ran through my every ounce of my being.

This was before the trip so we’re talking 10 pounds more… 4535.92 grams more… 4.5kg more… almost a stone more… 160 ounces…

Ok I think you get my point… it was a lot of emotions!!

A series of flights, a bucket of anticipation, a little bit of jet lag and the same clothes later… I was in Bharat – MOTHER INDIA!!

It felt so welcoming, so warm, and so familiar.  I felt like I was home, and I had not even been through passport control.

Once my passport was stamped, the adventure began.

Now I have been to several countries where driving is… “interesting,” but if you have never been in a car in India… let’s just say you have never known “interesting.”

The lines in the road are simply suggestions.  Later on in my travels the driver mentioned a tidbit of advice about driving in India:

“You only need three things to drive in India: Good Horn, Good Prayer, and Good Luck.”

After a while you get used to the crazy hustle and bustle of what is called “driving” in India… or at least I lied to myself and said I did!

Even though I was going to India to be certified to teach yoga, I wanted to be sure that I did some sightseeing before my schooling was to begin.  This sightseeing would begin in Delhi.  I hate to start of in a negative sounding way- but Delhi was not my favourite of places.

There was craziness everywhere. And I’m not talking simply about cars beeping, people on top of people carrying people who are themselves being carried by people walking on top of other people who are beeping while cars are driving under, over, around and through tuk-tuks and cows and chickens made of people who are not really people but cars and horns that are now walking on top of places that never were and are going to be!

Did that make sense?

If it did not- then you now understand exactly what Delhi was to me. 

Pure confusion.

The silver lining(s) about Delhi were all of the sites I saw revolving around Gandhi. Gandhi-ji has always been a man that I have admired.  I feel that his power was displayed in his simplicity and the fact that he did not seek power.  

The greatest of perfumes are subtle!

Other stops were Agra, and Jaipur before a quick flight to Kathmandu, Nepal (I mean I can’t come this far and be so close to Nepal and not go there!).

Quick highlights about Agra:

The Taj Mahal.

I need not say anything else. Even those who have never seen the Taj understand the pure beauty of it.

Let’s just say that this is when I understood what it meant to be overwhelmed by emotion.

The perfection of the architecture, the beauty of the materials, the layout, the hidden messages within the grounds, the genius behind the engineering… all for love.  There were several times when I had to stop tears.

I know I know- I’m such a baby!

Sirius 18.

No… that’s not a typo, but the name of the hotel I stayed at.

I mention it not as an advertisement, but simply because this really was part of my experience. The restaurant there was incredible. At one point I mentioned something about the paneer that I had (Punjabi-spiced) and suddenly I had the manager and eventually the chef at the table explaining to me how I can make it. The detail and the pride that the staff took in giving me directions really made me glow inside.  This was the passion of India that I had dreamed about.

Next it was onto Jaipur…

This was a long drive, but well worth it. Jaipur is in the beautiful state of Rajasthan. A state I had always wanted to go to, but did not understand why really until I had been there. I had read about the beauty of Rajasthan. I had seen pictures of the architecture and heard stories about the beauty of the people and food…yet one does not understand the softness of silk until they are wrapped in it. This – was Rajasthan.

Fields of mustard blooming bright yellow covered the countryside constantly beaconed for your eyes to become hypnotized in its elegance.  Occasionally a group of locals entertained the surreal state of hypnotism, clad in colors only heard about in stories: bright, bold. Woman walked in groups, some covering their faces with the extra cloth of their carefully wrapped sari; others were carrying articles on their heads: jars, baskets, large bundles of wood thatched together. 

As the car entered into a market area, the worlds between reality and fiction overlapped; cars, cows, pedestrians, elephants, donkeys, camels, dogs, scooters, bicycles, and monkeys performed a synchronized dance, both interacting and ignoring each other at the same time.

Merchants sold everything from spiced hot tea, to used bicycle tires.

The car would occasionally stop to allow… or should I say to avoid a passing car, person… or camel.  The stopped car attracted begging children who appeared like defeated ninjas leaving ever-lasting images that sparked volumes of emotions: barefoot, dirty, matted hair, and sometimes with open wounds that you tried to ignore, yet were unable to wonder how and why…

I eventually learned that these ugly images were as much a part of India as the beauty of the mustard fields.

The contrast of India was beginning to sink in. The beauty of India seemed so much more beautiful than any other place, but only because the “ugliness” was that much more ugly. One was the product of the other, and the other was the reason for the one. 

It was this contrast that remained the remainder of India.

Once in the city of Jaipur, the beauty of its people became even more obvious.  It eventually became a known fact to me, as told from people all throughout my travels in India, that the people of Rajasthan are known for hospitality.  

At first I thought, well this makes sense… they have so many places for sightseeing, it would behoove them to be hospitable. Apparently this is not the case. For as far back as history shows, Rajasthan (according to one of the guides) has never ‘fought.’ They have always worked with whatever ‘force’ came in.

“Ok- you wanna play emperor – fine… we’ll call you emperor, you do your thing- just let us do ours.”

This was my impression of Rajasthan.  “We will treat you well, you treat us well.”

One of the evenings while in Jaipur, I was invited to a wedding of the guide’s cousin.  From the welcome I received you would have thought I was a distant relative who the family had been waiting to see for ages! I did not feel any ill will over the fact that I clearly was not a part of the family. In fact, it was quite the contrary – I actually was in the parade that “dances the groom in.”

Dressed in a tailor-made kurta-pajama and camel leather with silk embroidered pointed jhute (shoes) I danced through the mud, rain, and mobs of people.  The parade would randomly stop and the band marching on either side of the mobs of people consisting of family and friends of the groom would begin a song and a dance party would break out. Circles of men and women would begin dancing. People of all ages took the time to enjoy the moment.  Maybe I am naïve, but I felt that each person there was 100% in the moment. 

For an instant they were not male or female, married or single, rich or poor – they were THERE.  They danced, they laughed, they smiled, and they lived!

After Jaipur I flew to Nepal.

Why Nepal you ask…

Because…

Next question!

Ok- ok- I’ll tell you.

While in school I had to do a semester long project on Nepali culture and food. It was an in depth research project, and I was very impressed with my findings. I wanted to see Boudhanath and other significant sites, and … well… mostly I wanted to try the Nepali food- who am I trying to kid!

Nepal was everything I loved about India- without the mobs and mobs and mobs of people.  It was interesting for me because I do not speak Nepali, but it was interesting to see how most people spoke English, and everyone seemed to go out of their way to be courteous.

I will return to Nepal one day.  No questions asked!

The next leg of my journey is the most touching.

Not in a “show me on the doll where you were touched” kind of way, but a deeper spiritual sense.

From Kathmandu I flew back to Delhi, and then took a train to Haridwar, and then a car ride (which made me wish I was wearing Depends because I think I crapped myself 3 times and peed myself at least once every other second) to Rishikesh – the place I would call home for the next almost 5 weeks….

You’ll have to wait for this portion of the adventure.

Until then,  Namaste! 

“We do not live an equal life, but one of contrasts and patchwork; now a little joy, then a sorrow, now a sin, then a brave action.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)