Sri Ramanasramam - 30 November 2008

I'm now living in Sri Ramanasramam. Just being there brings me so much joy. Attended bhajans this morning, not in the ashram, but in a house a ways away. I reconnected with the special bliss and joy that kirtan brings me. I found my first "yes" to instill in my life after this trip. Music, especially kirtan. I've been blissed out by many things on this trip, but there is something miraculous and unique that happens to the cells in my body when I participate in kirtan. Oh, how I've missed it!

Yes.

Cyclone Nisha - 28 November 2008

What I thought was a typical monsoon the last few days was in fact Cyclone Nisha. How would I know the difference? Hell, I didn't even know it was monsoon season until it had been raining for 5 days. I guess that would explain the constant power outages, warning sirens, slashing rain and trees touching the ground, eh? Oh yes, and the streets running like rivers and the water tanks overflowing. Between the weather and the terrorism in Mumbai, no wonder people back home are concerned about me. Me? I'm blissfully ignorant of it all, living in my Grace filled spiritual cocoon.

Happy Thanksgiving! – 27 November 2008

Happy Thanksgiving! It’s Thanksgiving here where I am, but not in the US, quite yet. Another few hours and it will be. Oh, I have so very much to be Thankful for!

I’m thankful my toilet flushes with a push of a button. That’s huge when it’s the single most used appliance in one’s life.

I’m thankful my toilet is attached to my room, another biggie given the frequency of use.

I’m thankful I have a cross breeze in my room. The air is fresh and scrubbed clean by the rain and wind and is not stagnant and dead.

I’m thankful I have local friends who care about me, 9,000 miles from home, who check in on me and make sure I’m safe and reasonably well.

I’m thankful I have friends back home who send healing in the causal realm where time and distance don’t matter.

I’m thankful I have a roof over my head. Many people here don’t.

I’m thankful I have a bed under my body. Again, many people here don’t.

I’m thankful I’m in India! On a spiritual quest! On a personal quest! ‘nuff said.

I’m thankful the ants are cleaning out the remains of the melted chocolate from my waistpack and are mostly staying off of my bed. Occasionally, one will blow from the windowsill to my monitor and I blow it back off, but on the whole, they are sticking to their path.: under the window casing, across the sill, down the wall to the floor, around three sides of the room where the wall meets the floor, up the wall to the waistpack on the shelf. I figure since they are well behaved, I’ll let them finish the job. They’re obviously benefiting and I didn’t know how I was going to clean it the chocolate off the objects, anyway. A friend wasn’t so fortunate, the ants in her room marched across her bed, biting her along the way.

I’m thankful for my computer and the skill to use it to merge both halves of my life, which are equally important to me. I am grounded by using the technology to advance spiritual, artistic and healing energy all around this planet

I’m thankful when the ISP is up, I have Internet from my bed, even when the power is out, as long as I sit in a certain spot. The café next door offers free wifi with purchase, and I take most of my meals there anyway, when I can eat that is. Since the monsoon has intensified in the last few days, it’s been up for 5 minute windows on and off, which has been quite useful for sending out emails that I’ve queued up and receiving emails from others. Who has Internet from their room here??? It’s unheard of!

I’m thankful for all my teachers, be they human or virus or weather or whatever. I’m truly blessed.

I’m thankful for all my mirrors. Um, that would be you.

I’m thankful for my children, my entire family and all of my past, without which, I wouldn’t be me.

Most of all, I’m thankful for me. I don’t think I have ever been before. If that’s the only thing I get from this journey, it’s the gift of a lifetime.

Happy Thanksgiving! What are you thankful for?

Sick in India, Day 1 – 25 November 2008

Well, it happened. I’m sick. Fever. Diarrhea. Neither one is excessive, so I’m just going with the flow, bad pun intended. I’ve got good friends here who are checking in on me and people I know at the café next door who gave me good information on medical care here in town if I need it. They will arrange it if I need it. I intend to get over this on my own in a day or so.

It’s really frightening, though, being sick so far away from home in a place with questionable facilities. There’s really no way to tell why I’m sick. Everything is filthy here and it could be from mosquitoes, too. However, two days ago, I swam in the ocean on a stretch of beach that was really dirty. I thought it was OK, the water looked clean. Apparently it was not. Walking on the beach after swimming, I started getting light headed. Everything I ate after that generated mild intestinal discomfort, the kind that usually goes away with probiotics. Upon waking this morning, it was clear I have something probiotics is not going to fix.

I’m not too uncomfortable, just woozy and can’t read the computer screen very well. Focusing is a problem and I’m sensitive to light. Earlier, I wasn’t sure I had a fever until Sara told me I was hot. The cramping is quite minimal and the amount is quite low. I’ve slept all day and took some acetaminophen once this afternoon, when I started getting a headache and could feel my pulse in my head and could tell my fever was rising.

I get sporadic internet connection in my room, so hopefully I can stay connected with the outside world during this. The traffic noise outside my window is comforting, as it lets me know people are only a stone’s throw away.

I’m not in much discomfort, thankfully! I’m just flying out in the ozone a little more than usual. I think I’ll benefit in the long run from some enforced rest. I’m drinking copious amounts of water to flush the wee buggies through as fast as I can.

This will be my log. I’m not posting it until I’m well, so that I don’t worry my family.

Day 2 – Long Distance BodyTalk session and approximately 100 Religious Scientists and others (including me) knowing my health and wholeness have a marked effect and I am able to venture out for some soup.

Day 3 – Still lightheaded and weak and still on soup, juice and biscuits (cookies), but definitely better. I think I’ll attempt eggs in a bit. Life is amazing!

A Break In the All Bliss, All The Time Programming – 23 November 2008

I don’t write about the bad stuff. Most of the time, I don’t even register the bad stuff. Today, however, I noticed that I have been cranky a lot of times. Tonight, the dam broke. I’ve been bracing against all this without even realizing it. I need to get it out, so here goes:

My shoulder hurts. Bad. It started as a tender spot in my upper arm before I left Seattle and over the last two months has spread to my neck and shoulder and when I raise my arm or reach for something without thinking, it feels like something is shredding within my arm. When I'm sitting still or lying down, it aches. It’s not pleasant and getting worse. I hate living with pain again. Hate. It.

My back hurts and my hip hurts. It's not serious, but still uncomfortable. The bed is like a rock (most of them are) and the pillow is disgusting. I’m going to look into purchasing a pillow tomorrow, but until then I have to somehow fall asleep on this one. I’ve covered it with a scarf but it’s not helping much.

My scalp itches intensely and almost constantly. It started when my hair started growing back in. It’s been a month now and it’s not getting any better, it’s actually getting worse.

It’s so freaking noisy here! Here being India in general and here being in my room specifically. The wind is up tonight and something, a door or window, keeps slamming forcefully and erratically, sounding like a shotgun blast. Also, about 15 or 20 minutes ago, someone started playing a short chant over speakers. It’s 1:30 in the freaking morning! All I can make out is that it starts with Om and has 4 or 5 words. That’s all. Over. And Over. And OVER. Enough already! Oh, Great. It’s my next door neighbour. It’s now 3:45am and it’s still going. I have my tunes on and earplugs in and I can still hear it.

It’s 7:45 in the morning now. My guest house is on a corner with my window facing the street. Everything that comes through here blows its horn or rings its bell. It’s like the room from hell in here. So much for shanti (peace).

I just paid a lot of money for a trip to the beach which was supposed to be relaxing and was anything but. It was very stressful and that’s disappointing. If I don’t find some way to relax, I’m going to explode.

So, yeah. It’s not all bliss, all the time here. Sometimes it really bites. Like now. And this, too, shall pass. Just like the wind. Just like the rain. Just like the night. Just like everything.

It’s balance. The light with the dark. The soft with the hard. The sweet with the bitter. That’s duality. I could seek to transcend it all, but I’m not interested in that. I’ll address the things I can do something about and be in the experience.

Om shanti, shanti, shantihi.

Puducherry. - 22 November 2008

My love affair with Puducherry was short lived. What a bizarre place. It’s not a specifically spiritual place and I think that makes a big difference. That might be why I’m not fond of Udaipur, now that I think of it. There were a couple of times I felt uneasy being alone. I was very grateful to have my traveling companion, Leslie, with me. He’s a delightful Buddhist Australian gentleman. We make good traveling companions. He’s lived in South Asia for a long time, is well traveled, a great conversationalist, is even more laid back than I am and we’re both good with spontaneous decisions.

It’s so sad, Mother Ocean is so polluted there :( You can see the garbage bobbing in the surf, out past the breakers. There is no beach, just huge, black sharp edged boulders making up a seawall. There is a tiny beach next to a pier where fishermen launch these ski/sled looking things that can’t even be called boats. They are basically three flattened logs with upturned front ends that have been lashed together. I have no idea how they stay on them out there in the rough sea, much less bring in huge nets full of fish.

Had a trippy group meditation experience at the Sri Aurobindo ashram playground my last night in the city. Leslie was done in from a busy day of cycling all over the city, so I went alone. The “playground” looked and felt like a prison yard. It was a rectangular yard with a sand surface, surrounded on all four sides by a three story building with balconies on all four sides. You had to have a special card given by the ashram or one of the guest houses to get in. Several hundred people were there, sitting on the sand at night. I was one of only a handful of Westerners. It was the anniversary of the day they laid Mother’s body in the ground after her Mahasamadhi. At 7:25pm they turned the lights off and we were all sitting in the dark. It was very surreal with white clouds zipping by overhead. It was very clear that once you were there, you could not stand up and leave.

After about five minutes of silence, a harmonium started playing somewhere behind me. It was playing something in a minor key and it was eerie and spooky. It sounded like something from a horror movie. My skin started crawling and I wanted out of there, fast! I started looking around and it was still very clear that no one would stand up in the middle of this, so I decided to go ahead and mediate and inquire what the fear was about. I could meditate for about 5 minutes or so and then I’d pop out of it. The music just kept on getting gloomier and weirder. I decided surrender was the best course of action, so I meditated again. At one point I looked around and wondered if Mother’s spirit was going to come floating by. The energy there was very strong.

The reason I went was because Leslie told me it was going to be music and singing, so I immediately though bhajan. Um, NO. No singing, just funeral dirges. All of a sudden, the music stopped and there was about 15 minutes of silence. I was so afraid that it would be like two hours or something. Abruptly, 30 minutes after the lights went off, they came back on and everyone stood up and left. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

One funny thing happened, just before it started. I suddenly started thinking of an email conversation I had had earlier that day about the combination for the lock on the luggage I sent home with a tour group mate. The combo is my birthday, so the number is 0723. The number 0723, 0723, 0723 kept ringing in my head, over and over in a sing-song voice. I looked at my watch and sure enough, it said 7:23. I had to laugh. Yes, Spirit has a sense of humour.

It was either extremely hot or pouring down rain while we were there. I didn’t know it was monsoon season in Tamil Nadu in November. We watched the filming of a Tamil movie just down from our guest house from the balcony of a restaurant. It was quite amusing. It’s amazing how low tech it was.

I spent most of my time there wondering where I was. There were no cows in the streets! The architecture looked like I was in New Orleans and the streets were wide and paved. There were sidewalks, but you couldn’t walk on them, because people parked their motorcycles and push bikes on them and they ended abruptly with deep chasms. (Push bike is a new term I learned that means bicycle. Bike means motorcycle here.) I was already chuckling at one point when I saw a buff Westerner heading into the Fitness Center when I rounded a corner and saw the Pizza Hut and dissolved into a fit of giggles.

It looked like it might be a Western city, but it is still decidedly India. I think the contrast made it seem even more harsh to me. It felt like it had so much potential to be something comfortable, but it was far from comfortable. There were bars and liquour/wine stores on almost every block, sometimes two or three per block. Internet access was virtually useless with antiquated machines and extremely slow bandwidth. Decent meals were very hard to come by. One night we were in what we thought was a restaurant which turned out to be a bar for the local men. Again, I was glad for Leslie’s company.

Walking was nerve wracking. The traffic is much more like Western cities, without the benefit of traffic signals of any kind. The police were everywhere and they were the worst for blaring their horns and driving right at me. I almost got hit by vehicles of all sorts, many times.

The Park Guest House we took rooms in, one of the Sri Aurobindo guest houses, was quite lovely. The garden was beautiful and fronted on the sea. We took our breakfasts in the canteen and watched the waves crashing into the seawall. There were many well landscaped areas to meditate in as well as a meditation room overlooking the sea. I could see the sea from my room and spent a lot of time in there, resting and meditating. It was at the southern end of the promenade, clean, quiet and a very good value. The ashram itself was a huge disappointment. Only the Samadhi where Sri Aurobindo and Mother are buried and a bookstore are open to the public. There is much more of their presence and energy in their guest houses than in the ashram.

We decided two nights were quite enough, so we planned to go spend some time on Auroville Beach, 8km north. I hired an auto rickshaw to drive us there that picked us up at 9am one morning. That’s when things started to get really interesting and is the subject for another post.

Around the World in Four Days

I feel like I've been around the world in the last four days. In a lot of ways, I have. I'm in Mahabalipuram now, then heading back to Tiruvannamalai tomorrow. So much has happened, and I have so little capacity to write about it. I fell out of love with Puducherry very quickly and have not been enamoured with Mahabalipuram. The good news is I have great traveling companions. Katrina will part ways with Leslie and me tomorrow. It will be good to be back home in Tiru.

Puducherry - 19 November 2008

I'm laughing. God's laughing at me, too, or with me really. She has a delightful sense of humour. She thinks I'm a silly girl for being so amazed that Mother Ocean is so familiar to me here and that I'm delighted with yet another city in India, totally unexpectedly. It's so different here than anywhere else I've been! I don't even have words to describe it, yet. I should be used to this by now. God thinks so, too :)

Holy Mother! Jai Ma! This Rocks!

18 November 2008 – 00:18 Hours

I JUST DID A HEADSTAND!!!

I JUST DID A HEADSTAND!!!

I JUST DID A HEADSTAND!!!

I was in bed, surfing my stream of consciousness, trying to fall asleep, when I got the impulse to do a headstand. This impulse is familiar, it comes when I’m feeling especially spiritual. I don’t know why it comes, and I’ve never followed it until now. I haven’t had faith that my stomach muscles were strong enough to pull my lower body up erect and keep it there. This time the impulse was too enticing to ignore. In the infamous words of many Indians I’ve met: Why Not?

First, I did a tripod with my knees on my elbows with my head planted on the bed. I was thrilled. I thought that was enough, but the impulse urged me further. I thought perhaps I’d do one in the café tomorrow where there were friends or at least other humans around. That idea lasted about a minute.

Looking around the darkened room, I switched directions in the bed when I noticed the foot of my bed was cradled in a nice, stable looking corner. I got back into a tripod and decided to go for it. Slowly, slowly I raised my knees. I found my balance and kept going, very slowly, until I was completely erect! I only stayed there a few seconds, long enough to know I did it. After all, I’m up on a bed in a dark room with a marble floor, 9,000 miles away from home, alone, supporting 160 pounds on my neck DOING A HEADSTAND!

*GRIN*

I think everyone in this guest house heard me cry out I DID IT!!!

Growth Non Sequiturs – 17 November 2008

I look at pictures of me during the 2008 River of Sound Tour and I don’t recognize that person as myself. I am not her. I don’t have the feelings she had and I don’t have the understanding she had. I feel like I’m morphing into entirely different beings at a rapid pace, yet maintaining my constant, eternal identity in my core. I suspected the person who left Seattle would not return and it caused me some grief before I left. I’m happy to say there is no grief associated with the process at this point. Wonder, yes. Grief, no.

People say It’s true! I saw it with my own eyes! I just saw two heels on my left foot. Does this mean I have two heels on one foot or it mean I’m relaxing my eyes so that they’re not tracking together or does it mean something else entirely? Besides, eyes don’t see, the brain interprets information from the eyes. The eyes can only see the tiniest fraction of what’s really going on, look at how much more a microscope reveals. How can we really know what’s real?

I just saw some old documents on my hard drive; things that I wrote in the last two years because I was upset at the time and wanted to journal how I felt in order to get through it. I just realized I’ve grown so much since those times that I can’t even imagine them having the same import in my life now. Before I ended my marriage, I remember finding notes from church services about how I would like my life to be different. Something like five or ten years had passed and yet the same issues were prominent. Now I’m not affected by the same issues from month to month. Another example of expansion, I guess. I suspect I’ll look back on these blog posts with the same realization in the future. Like, say, next week.

Expansion – 17 November 2008

I’ve been combining Feldenkrais with my yoga practice for the last week or so. It’s very complimentary and I can feel a big difference. My body is doing wonderfully, but I’m having a significant amount of pain. The beds are very hard and the terrain is very rough. I maintain that yoga is essential for life here. When I feel some resistance to a particular stretch, I immediately back off and ask how the rest of my body can support the part in resistance. The effect is immediate and I’m often surprised at how many body parts are bracing in sympathy for the part in resistance. It’s like a preemptive guarding that’s dissolved by the asking of the question about support. Immediately I can feel my whole self soften and come to a more neutral place and then I can begin again to relax and stretch.

A few days ago, I went to the two caves Sri Ramana lived in. I was barefoot the entire time I was on the mountain. The path is mostly stones set in the earth and a good part of the time they are quite irregularly shaped and very uneven. Balancing was quite the task. One cave was closed for the day and I meditated in the other for about 10 minutes. The feeling I get while sitting on some of the boulder outcroppings is exquisite. The room where Sri Ramana gave his mother enlightenment through his touch moved me to tears. I want to spend more time on the mountain before I leave.

It’s my last day in Tiruvannamalai. I don’t really want to leave; I could be happy here permanently, or at least for quite a long time, but now is not the time for that. Now is the time for moving on to the next experience and the next experience is spending a few days in a hut on the beach. It will be the first time I’ve seen the ocean from India and I’m excited. It will also be the first time I’ve swum in the ocean in over 3 years.

I just this moment realized I missed my 3 year anniversary of moving to Seattle. It was 11 November. Nice that it’s not a big deal any more. Life has expanded well beyond that, thankfully.

Hmm, expansion is an interesting construct. Expansion was a big part of Feldenkrais and expansion is a big part of enlightenment, I think. I was struck then, when I was learning Feldenkrais, at how the learning was the same as I was getting from chanting and learning Vedic information and it’s ringing true for me again.

For the sake of illustration, let’s say my life is a circle. When I started chanting and Feldenkrais, my circle was filled with pain. It was my entire life. Perhaps the chanting and Feldenkrais allowed me to expand the perimeter of my circle, so that pain only took up 50%, then 25%, and so on down to nearly nothing.

I got an insight into Gurus here in Tiruvannamalai that also has to do with expansion. From what I’ve read and what I’ve experienced, it seems to me that most Gurus, the real ones anyway, discourage their devotees from considering them Gurus. They don’t wish to be worshipped and they are usually self effacing. When I felt the Love emanating from this place when I arrived and I recognized it so intimately, I realized that Gurus are just conduits. They don’t generate this, what’s happened is they have learned enough and expanded to the point of getting their egos out of the way of the Divine and they let it flow through them. They are right; it’s not them. It’s the Divine. It’s in all of us and we can learn to get our small selves out of the way and let It flow through us, too. How wonderful!

Another thing I experienced that I’ve only known conceptually, is that different people resonate to different teachers. In the past, I’ve been quick to dismiss someone with whom I don’t resonate with as not the real thing. That’s not fair and it’s not true. Catherine Ingram likens people to tuning forks, some vibe together and some don’t. When you get in front of a teacher you vibe with, you know it. It doesn’t mean that ones you don’t vibe with aren’t real.

I got darshan from a woman tonight in a full room in an ashram. I didn’t feel anything directly from her, yet the energy in the room was extremely strong and I could feel most of the others in the room were deeply affected by her. It was clear to me they resonated with her. Watching her move around the room, I was deeply moved by her divinity. I could see it. I wasn’t feeling any direct connection with her, yet I could see her glowing and connecting with the others. It was beautiful. Yet again, my consciousness expanded to allow Grace and understanding in. What a beautiful lesson. Such a gift.

Speaking of gifts, we had downpours with and without thunder today! Yay! I danced in the rain twice. I had Indian men laughing at me from their porch as I sang Locah Samastah Sukinoh Bhavantu and spun around gleefully in the deluge. I got lost at least 3 times looking for the SivaSakti Ashram in the rain for darshan and when I gave up all attachment to getting there (I had exactly 2 minutes until it started) the dirt path suddenly became a wide paved road and there it was! One shopkeeper I asked for directions early on in my quest generously volunteered his friend to ride me on his bicycle so that I wouldn’t get so wet, but I looked at that tiny seat and politely refused. When I came back by his shop on my way back to Sri Ramanasramam, he popped out of his door and asked me if I had found it. He was very charming and I promised to come back and have chai with him. Not to buy, because if I ask you to buy, you will only say no. So, just come back and have tea with me. Oh! How I love this place.

Living the Cliché – 17 November 2008

Bliss = Sitting on the floor around the table, laughing with friends also on the path to enlightenment, thunderstorm hits, rain pours off the thatched roof, power goes out, battery backup kicks in, wifi and stereo come back up to the tune of The Beatles’ Revolution wafting in on the breeze.

Accents - 16 November 2008

You know that little voice in your head? Yes, that one. The one that just said What little voice? . Well, mine now has a mixture of accents. It’s switching off between British, Israeli, Venezuelan and of course Indian, sometimes in mid sentence. It’s lost every bit of its American accent. It’s quite fascinating, really.

A woman from Britain asked me today was I English or American. I’m a parrot, my spoken accent mirrors whoever I’m talking with. When I’m speaking English with an Indian, I sound like someone with very little command of the language.

In other random news: When I get my cave, I’m going to make a sign that says: Devi’s Cave --> Way To. That’s the way all the signs around here read. I like it.

In yet other random news: You know when you go looking for something, you may not find it because you’re trying too hard. With that in mind, I’ve stopped looking for anything. That might just be because I realize I already have it all.

Still Here. Still Happy.

Not much else to say, really. Moving from the ashram to a guest house tomorrow morning. Much nicer/cleaner room, same price. Right next to my new favourite hangout with the free wifi. I might even be able to pick the signal up from the room, but I doubt it.

Took immense pleasure in doing laundry in my room last night. It's amazing how much pleasure can be found in being in the moment. It's the simple things in life, really.

It's good to be here.

Who Needs Sleep? - 14 November 2008

Stayed up 'til around 5am. Couldn't sleep, so I edited an audio file I had promised a friend back in January. Wrote emails and then had kirtan in my room with a recording of one of Ginaji's kirtans I recorded last Spring. I was tired, cranky and very sore when I started. Within the first chant, my body started floating. The next thing I knew, I was dancing in lotus position all over my bed and watching the light show in my consciousness.

There is a magic that happens during kirtan. It's different than chanting by myself. There's the collective energy of the musicians, chanters, and instruments. It's a powerful vehicle for integrating the physical with the causal. Oh, how I love it!

I just skritched a cat!!! First cat I have touched since coming here. I miss cats. This one hangs out in a cafe with free wifi, so I get free 'net and kitty lovin'! w00t!

The crowd here is interesting, and we're leaving it at that.

I have about 25GB of photos to upload and the speed here is the best I've found in country. I'm not going to get finished before my battery dies, but I'll at least get started.

Looking at the announcement walls in the cafes the Westerners frequent here, I could easily be in Seattle. There are all sorts of alternative classes, products and therapies and all the photos of the practitioners are Western.

I've been here long enough that I'm hungry again. I just saw some nice looking fries go by, I think I'll have some. Am looking for a close and cheap beach. I think I need some beach time.

Connection – 13 November 2008

I’ve been feeling isolated here. There are a ton of Westerners, but they seem to either be off in a trance of their own or in cliques. I’ve approached several with no luck at connecting. I can’t get any Indians to make eye contact with me, so connecting with them isn’t happening either.

Today, I was considering what in my consciousness was creating this experience. I considered the possibility that I had nothing to do with it at all. I was curious, but not attached to getting any answers.

For the last three days, I’ve been eating fruit salad with yoghurt, called fruit curd, and an omelette around mid day and that’s been my only meal of the day. I snack on a banana or pineapple slice and get a cup or two of chai and that’s all I’ve been needing.

Today, at breakfast, I sat next to a group of five women I’d seen before. They were in deep conversations, have been here for months, and their energy seemed very closed to me. A woman asked if she could sit across from me, so I said yes. She didn’t look very happy, and looked like the woman who I asked to chat with a few days ago who said she preferred silence. As I was praying over my food, she mumbled something about “there’s no one out there, the energy is all going to humans anyway”. I opened my eyes and she was frowning at me. I just shrugged and let it go. We didn’t speak another word. I didn’t really want a connection with her. I realized something then. It is me stopping the connections. I don’t like the energy I’m sensing from some of the people and I’m not open to them.

Tonight, I decided to eat dinner and went to the restaurant across the street. They had a buffet and I was in the mood for variety. I had my soup course at a table by myself. I had noticed a Western woman sitting at the next table by herself and I got a nudge internally to ask if I could sit with her, but in my current mood, didn’t want to take the chance of getting rebuffed, so I sat alone. When I got the next course, I again got an internal nudge, so I asked and she accepted.

I’m so glad I asked. What a delightful person she is! She and I talked incessantly for over an hour. She’s from London and is here for the second time, this time for six months. She said she felt the unwelcoming energy the first time she was here, too. We exchanged contact info and may be visiting the caves together.

I’ve noticed that the Indians and the Westerners don’t mingle much here and that saddens me. I’ve noticed more of an energetic wall from the Indians from the Westerners and that saddens me, too. I only saw one other Westerner on the walk last night. Only one Indian woman spoke to me the entire time. It’s such a paradox, that this place of such Divine Love that is palpable is also a place of isolation.

I don’t know if my intention to connect with someone caused the connection to happen tonight or not, I’m just glad it happened.

Giri Pradakshina – 13 November 2008

I circumambulated Mt. Arunachala last night with what some estimate as over a million people. I walked around 8 miles in 4.5 hours. I took one 15 minute break for soup. I’ve been averaging 1.5 meals a day for the last 3 days, that was my .5.

When it’s done on the full moon, it’s called Giri Pradakshina. I lasted 45 minutes barefoot. The pebbles got me. I wore my sandals for another hour, then put my lace up walking shoes with custom orthotics on. I had to stop going into the temples and shrines at that point, as it wasn’t worth the time and trouble to take off my shoes and socks each time.

It wasn’t the soles of my feet that were problematic, it was mechanical problems. It felt like I had a stress fracture in my left foot for around 3 hours, which was not fun. The last 30 minutes were excruciating, my right foot felt like it was on fire and both hurt pretty bad. When I passed the woman lying in someone’s lap on the road with no hands or feet, I counted my blessings and expressed extreme gratitude that I had feet that could hurt.

I took my pack with both pairs of shoes in it and my camera and phone. My shoulders hurt the entire walk. I realized when it was over, I was preoccupied with my discomfort the entire time. The walk is said to symbolize one’s outer life. That’s interesting.

It was very surreal. I walked from 10pm until 2:30am. Since it was dark, things just popped up out of the night. Street vendors lined the route with the normal things like malas and statues and garlands of flowers food as well as the most bizarre things like robots with blinking red and blue lights and wee faeries on flowers and peeping chicks. Very odd, that.

I snagged three pineapple slices for 9 rupees. That’s less than 1 cent per slice. A banana was also 3 rupees, less than 1 cent. I love that this tropical fruit is all local! I still haven’t tried the fresh squeezed sugar cane juice. The cleanliness of the glasses and juicers seem suspect to me. Given what I’ve consumed and lived to tell about so far, the fact I’m suspicious of these things says a lot.

I woke up this morning with Om Namah Shivaya running through my head. The mountain is said to be a Shiva lingam, or Shiva in form. I notice I have some gender issues around Shiva lingams and some resistance and resentment is there. I think part of this is getting in my way in my other practices. This bears looking into.

I’m in unfamiliar space since the walk. Actually, that kind of makes me laugh. I think unfamiliar space could probably be said to be the most familiar space for me these days. Anyway, I haven’t integrated the walk yet. My body is doing wonderfully, I’m only moderately sore. That’s quite amazing, given as how I could barely walk across a room two years ago. I’m thankful for my physical health and wellbeing.

There are other, more subtle, effects that haven’t sorted themselves out yet. I was tired and cranky this morning and I’m letting myself take as long as it takes. Tomorrow I think I’ll get an Ayurvedic massage.

Random Thoughts - 12 November 2008

My laptop shocks me when it’s plugged into 240 volt power, which is what is used here. There is a thin metal strip that runs across the front, just where my wrists rest. It zings me constantly when I’m plugged in, but not when I’m on battery.

I have ankle bells on.

Mosquitoes in Tiruvanamalai are voracious. I’m using my spray for the first time and I’m back on the malaria prevention meds.

Words are spelled multiple ways in my blog because they are spelled multiple ways in India.

After I asked for comments to my blog posts to know you are out there, I realized that you’re not out there. *giggle* You’re in here. You’re all internal; you exist in my consciousness. It’s all an illusion; there is no out there, not really. It’s fun to play in the illusion, though. You are out there because I put you out there to experience myself in relation to you. You may think you exist externally to me, but I bet that the you that you experience is vastly different than the you I experience.

My voice resonates beautifully in this concrete room, or cell I think they call it. Did you know residents of ashrams are called inmates? At least in some they are.

The weather actually changes here. It was hot today again, but much nicer because it was overcast most of the day. The sky reminded me of Seattle. I could tolerate the grayness much better if it were warmer in Seattle. I wonder if global warming will make Seattle more pleasant for me and those like me that don’t tolerate the chill so well?

I feel like I’m intoxicated all day here. I wonder if that becomes problematic over a long period of time. It’s kind of nice right now.

Monkeys and peacocks coexist with the people here at Sri Ramanasramam and to a lesser extent at the ashram I’m staying in. I had to walk by two on the sidewalk leaving my room this morning. It’s unsettling to me. I took video of some rambunctious monkey behavour at Sri Ramanasramam yesterday. People looked totally undisturbed by it. The peacocks are beautiful and sound like the most vocal Siamese cat ever.

People walk around drinking coconut milk through a straw in the coconut. I wonder what they do with it when they are done? Seems a shame if they waste all that luscious coconut meat by just tossing it. This is on my list of things to find out.

With a couple of exceptions, people here are very closed to me, so far. I’m not sure why that is.

I’m posting this before my walk around the mountain tonight. I intend to go barefoot, but I’m not attached to it. I read today millions do it on a full moon night. As the crowds thickened today, I believe it.

What Is An Ashram? - 12 November 2008

I’ve stayed in three ashrams now and visited two, and I have less of an idea now of what they are than I did before I ever stayed in one. What is an ashram? Does anyone know?

11-11-08 I just love this date! Or Travel from Haridwar to Thiruvanamalai

Can’t sleep. Possibly too tired. Possibly too wired on Bliss. Who knows.

It’s hot. We’re back up into the 90 – 100 degree F range again. Humid. Sticky. My fan control is broken, so it’s either wide open or off. It’s too fast on wide open, I start coughing, so I have to turn it off. I’m probably too hot to sleep, come to think of it. Definitely don’t need the coat here! It’s wild to think I was cold two nights ago.

Yesterday (wow, was that only Yesterday??) I tried to make my travel arrangements to get here. There was a train booking station just outside the back gate of the ashram I was turned away from. I was not successful and got really discouraged. I decided I’d have to rickshaw back into Haridwar and go to the railway station or find an Internet cafe. I still needed a plane ticket, too. Walked into the station and realized it was the same situation and headed out to find a travel agent.

Haridwar doesn’t have Internet cafes that I’m used to seeing on every block. I ended up spending about 4 hours there, covering a large portion of the city, and only saw two. I’d been thinking the two per block I was used to seeing was because local people don’t have computers in their homes, but now I realize they’re for the tourists, not the locals. It’s an uncomfortable feeling being immersed in a language you don’t know and having no way for connection to the wider world.

I found a travel agent across the street from the railway station that told me he could get me on a Volvo bus to Delhi and found a plane ticket to Chennai. He purchased the plane ticket and then found out the Volvo bus was full. He originally told me he didn’t do trains, but he managed to get me a takthal ticket for a ridiculous amount of money. His fee was triple what I was used to paying, as well. Hell, I took it, I wanted the arrangements finished.

After that was settled, I hung out for about 2 or 3 hours on the ghat. That was amazing. It’s the only part of Haridwar I like. The energy is awesome, but it’s way too commercial to spend any more time than that and the scammers are rampant. It’s nice for a one time experience, though.

I rickshawed back to my ashram, picked up my bags, rickshawed back to Haridwar. I had an hour before my train, so I risked not getting a porter. Haridwar only has two platforms, so I had a 50% chance of getting it right. Thankfully, it was the first of the two. My bags have a combined weight of around 60 pounds and I can tell you I’m getting sore from lugging them, but I felt very accomplished.

I have awesome train karma, the train was on time, yet again! This is three in a row for me! I met a woman waiting for the train that had been in the same ashram as me, but we hadn’t connected there. I remember hearing her voice one morning, she has a Venezuelan accent and she reminded me of my dear friend Yolanda. I miss Yolanda!

So, the rest of the night and this morning went like this:

• 6 hour train ride to New Delhi in chair AC, arriving at 11pm.
• Attempted scam by a taxi driver who put my bag in his trunk and closed it, impersonating a prepaid taxi. I didn’t fall for it.
• Argument with the porter who jacked his rate up after we agreed. I split the difference just to get rid of him.
• Got to the prepaid taxi booth, decided a taxi cost too much and negotiated a good price for an auto rickshaw. The same auto rickshaw driver who tried to talk me into going to a guest house or hotel instead of the airport. Who pulled over twice in the parking lot and disappeared for over five minutes. I got weirded out, grabbed my bags and got out. He followed me, apologizing and talked me into getting back in the rickshaw. He had been looking for another driver to drive me and wasn’t getting any takers.
• Froze my ass off for an hour in the auto rickshaw getting across town to the airport. He drove like a madman, worse than normal, but we arrived safely.
• Killed 4 hours catnapping and talking politics (ugh) in the airport.
• Discovered the domestic terminal in Delhi has extremely clean public washrooms with a shower across the street! Washroom cost 2 Rupees, didn’t pay attention to the price for a shower, but wow!
• Talked to my mom at 2:30am.
• Ate crappy airport food at 3am.
• Had a lovely 2 hour on time flight on Indigo Air where I had the entire row to myself and got a nice nap in.
• Got a shock when I found out how much the taxi to Thiruvanamalai cost. Paid it anyway.
• Rode 4 hours and got a couple more hours of sleep. It was hot!
• Got here, got turned away from Sri Ramanasramam, which I expected. They are very clear you need to email them in advance, and I could never decide the exact day I was coming, or if I was even coming. The loving energy was so overwhelming, I was weeping. I think they felt sorry for me and booked me a room next door. They were very kind, the office was supposed to be closed for two hours and I had settled in to wait. I wasn’t stressed or upset, just calmly weeping. Told them it just felt so good to be here. They understood. Later, I passed that Swamiji on the road a few blocks away and he asked me if I had gotten settled in. I had showered and changed clothes, so I was impressed that he recognized me and asked.
• Got my heart blown open bigger than I thought possible. Sweet!

It’s quite astonishing to realize how much can happen and how drastically things can change in a 24 hour period. The joy and bliss I’m finding here truly makes everything leading up to this point well worth it. It’s funny, I can look back and see why things weren’t working out for me to stay longer where I was. I wasn’t supposed to. I’d been dragging my feet about moving on, and I’ve been shown that it wasn’t necessary.

Hello Haridwar or I’ve Now Ridden A Chicken Bus – 9 November 2008

I got back to Omkarananda Ashram and liberated my bag. I went down to Ganga Ma and got some water and sand to bring along on the rest of my trip. I have some at home, but I needed some with me. I used a container my Ayurvedic cough goop was in, which conveniently ran out this morning.

I said my goodbyes to Ganga Ma and Rishikesh. There was no deep emotional trauma this time, just a knowing that I’m never really separate. It was very sweet. It felt like time to go.

I climbed up the stairs and arranged for a rickshaw to the bus station. India is awesome if you know the rules. “Rickshaw madam?”
“Yes, bus station.”
“Come this way. 50 rupees.”
*smile* “20 rupees.”
Not possible! “50 rupees.”
*indulgent smile* 20 rupees.
*head bobble* “Tekay” (OK)
I felt pretty smug as we got underway. It’s the little things that build my sense of competency.

So off we go to the bus station, which had the most flies I’ve ever seen and is just an unpaved parking lot. I got directed to a bus that wasn’t really the bus I needed so I waited. After about 20 minutes the Haridwar bus pulled up, so I boarded. All the writing on the buses is in Devanagari script, not the Roman alphabet I’m used to. You have to depend on hawkers belting out the name of the city like they’re selling peanuts at a baseball game.

My luggage took up an entire seat. I was hoping the bus wouldn’t fill up, I didn’t know what I’d do with it. It was way too large to fit in the overhead racks.

Now this bus would not win any beauty contests, but it was surprisingly comfortable. It was old, rusty and filthy, but we made good time and the seat was supportive and the suspension was good. The fare taker came along and I gave him a 50 rupee note and he handed me back 30 in change and a torn stub that had Hindi writing with the numbers 10 and 30 on it. I don’t know why I got charged 20 rupees, but I just went with it. The entire ride, including stops, was under an hour. When you are the lumbering behemoth that everyone is passing, there’s no one in front of you slowing you down, so we just cruised right along.

As we were approaching Haridwar, I remembered Swamiji telling me the bus would go right past the Ashram I was staying at. I couldn’t get the fare taker to answer my question about where to get off, so I phoned the Ashram.

“I’m on the bus from Rishikesh, where do I get off?”
“We have no room here, who did you talk to?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you need to know.”
“Well, I don’t know. He said to come and I could stay for two days.”
“OK, come anyway, we’ll talk.”

Right then the bus pulled in at the station, so it was a moot point on where to get off. I got off the bus and started negotiating for an auto rickshaw. “It’s 10km, 200 rupees.”
“I just paid 20 rupees to get all the way from Rishikesh. 50 rupees.”
“Not possible, take bicycle rickshaw.”
Go to bicycle rickshaw.
“Take Auto.”
Start over again with a different auto rickshaw driver.
I got them down to 80 and called it a success. I spent Rs. 350 to get from Haridwar to Rishikesh a week ago and this was going to cost me a total of Rs 100. Not bad. It would have been sweet if I had known where to get off the bus and kept it down to Rs. 20, but oh, well. Live and learn.

We did indeed pass right by the Ashram, way before I thought to start asking about where to get off. I pulled my duffle and shouldered my backpack and made the long trek to reception. Don’t know why they told me to come anyway, they were still full and were not letting me stay, so the trip up there was for nothing. They sent me to an Ashram across the street where they said had rooms for Rs. 200 per night, so I shouldered and pulled luggage across a very busy highway in the dark and walked a block to find it was Rs. 600 a night.

My Ganga balcony room back in Rishikesh was Rs. 255 a night. It was peaceful and the view was gorgeous. I thought I’d be staying somewhere for two nights free. At that moment, I was not a happy Devi. Now, granted, 600 rupees is under $20, but it’s the principle of the thing and I’ve gone way over my budget already. She sent me back across the highway to a tiny Ashram she said was Rs. 100 or 200 a night. I stopped on the way at what I thought was the Ashram, and they said they were an Ashram, but they turned me away. Three strikes, yikes.

I asked a rickshaw driver and he pointed out two ashrams. The first one was the original one and the second one was the tiny one I was looking for. Success! I’m sitting on my bed typing this for Rs. 200 for the night. I told the driver that if I couldn’t find a room here, I wanted to be driven back to Rishikesh. I was going to take a risk that my room hadn’t been rented out yet. I would have wasted a whole afternoon and evening and Rs. 350, so between that and the rent I’d still have been at Rs. 600 and I’d be back in Rishikesh needing to get to Haridwar to get the train to Delhi, so that idea wasn’t thrilling me. I’m really glad I got this room.

OK, so this is my first foray into the wilds of India on my own and it didn’t go so well. I started being critical of myself during the backtracking in the auto rickshaw and immediately stopped myself. It’s India, these things happen and one has to be flexible. I congratulated myself on being flexible and resourceful and negotiating a good price on the rickshaw and left it at that. After I got turned away three times, I was feeling discouraged and critical of myself again, but again I stopped.

Hardly anyone speaks any English here and none of the signs are in English. The first Ashram has no Roman writing at all except for one temple I saw while wandering around later. All the writing, and there is a lot of it, is in Devanagari script. The gatekeeper at this Ashram knows about five words of English and the older guy who checked me in and seems to be the patriarch, or whatever, knows about two. His wife knew a little. There is not one Roman letter printed on my receipt. All this, and within ninety minutes of hitting Haridwar, I was settled into a room. I think I did awesome!

I’m right next door to the original Ashram and I can hear harmoniums and chanting and loud talking. After I checked in here, I wandered around over there and found the sweetest Gayatri temple! She’s so beautiful! I was enraptured. The energy there! All my frustration with them evaporated. I’m going over there in the morning to see what’s what in the day time and talk a bit with the Foreign Cell to see if there’s any room tomorrow, but I doubt I’ll stay. It just didn’t feel right. I think I’ll just move on a day early. I feel the need to get settled in, especially since I’m going without room reservations again.

Dinner tonight was across the busy highway again at the only place that has any Roman writing on it at all, a huge high rise hotel. We’re in a very odd section of Haridwar, there are no Internet cafés or travel agents. I’m going to have to hire a rickshaw to go into town to make my next arrangements. Fun, fun.

I’m tired. I’m sore. I’m cranky. I’ve been sneezing all day and I’m coughing again. This room is really ugly and the neighbours are loud at the other Ashram. There’s a cockroach in the wardrobe (we made a deal, it stays in there and I stay out here) and there seems to be a minute long train whistle every ten minutes or so. Oh great, now the Ashram next door is setting off those loud cannon firecrackers. So far, Haridwar hasn’t impressed me in the least.

However, I’m warm. The blankets here are much better than at Omkarananda and the mattress seems marginally better. Warm is important, as the nights are now cold here. My marble floor feels like ice.

I’m safe. I have a room to sleep in. I have a private bath. Hideous, but private. I’d been using the communal bath back at Omkarananda, but it was spotless. Things will look much brighter in the morning, I hope. This may make the travel connections to my next destination work better. I knew there was a reason I just couldn’t click “Buy Now” on that plane ticket the other day.

And, hey! I rode in a chicken bus! And I liked it!

Farewell Rishikesh – 9 November 2008

I had a good cry for about 5 minutes when I got back to my hotel room last night after Swamiji dropped me off and then it was over. I think that’s a record. I then packed most of my things. I needed to shop for some things before I left town and pick up my laundry. My luggage was full when I arrived and I had already purchased a thick book since then. I wasn’t quite sure if everything was going to fit. One if my anticipated purchases was a coat.

Now, I know I won’t need a coat down South, but I have a suspicion I’m going to take a quick trip north up into the Himalayas before I head to Amritapuri in December. It’s just a hunch at this point, but the coat is unique and I know I will want it in Seattle.

I had my last mala of Gayatri at sunrise this morning on Ganga Ma. When the sun rises through the notch in the ridge, it shatters into a million pieces of multicoloured light. I remembered the first time I saw and felt it and burst into tears. All the people from the first River of Sound tour were there with me in consciousness. Again, the tears subsided quickly.

Once I finished on the ghat, I changed clothes and rinsed off and headed out. I had my last breakfast at Amrita’s right on the ghat and a nice chat with the owner. He’s such a dear. Then I hopped the ferry across the river. I hadn’t even been across the river other than to go to Aarti one night and an Internet café when the power went out on the west side. I did the loop from Ram Jhula to Laxman Jhula, taking the “low road” for the first time. It gave me a good opportunity to take pix of Swamiji’s old kutir site and his new one. I like the new site a lot better, it’s much more private.

My list consisted of comparison shopping for my coat, buying a new crystal mala from the guy who was so patient about explaining rudrakshas to Jennifer and me and looking for another pair of pants with zippered pockets like the green ones I bought during my first stay there. The coat was in a very inconvenient location and I didn’t want to hike there. I got my pants and mala and a really good deal on a calendar of the style I love where the days of the week go top to bottom instead of left to right. I saw one shop that had similar coats, but not close enough, so off I went hiking up to the place and bought the coat. It’s technically outside the city limits, so they can serve eggs and meat up there. I had an omelette there a few mornings ago and felt so naughty!

Checkout time was noon and I was picking my laundry up at 12:05. Good thing people in India aren’t really uptight about things like time. I got the purchases and laundry packed, somehow. Miraculously, it all fit. It’s a lot heavier though, sheesh!

I checked my duffle and headed off to the Internet café with my laptop, looking to make that last purchase of a shirt that was illusive. I got it, too! Didn’t make any progress with purchasing my next tickets, but that is a good thing, as will be discovered later.

My plans were to take the bus to Haridwar for Rs. 30 and stay at an ashram that is dedicated to the Goddess Gayatri and the Gayatri mantra. It’s huge, thousands of people stay and I spoke to a nice man on the phone that said all I had to do was show up and ask for the Foreign Cell. There would be a brief interview and then I would be allowed to stay for 2 days free of charge, including meals.

That, my friends, is the subject of a separate post, so I’ll leave off here by saying I left the Internet café after an hour because a most annoying American woman was in there trying to arrange a private driver to take her to Delhi and Jaipur and was not letting the travel agent finish a sentence. She was going on and ON about Indian taxi drivers being cheats and how she’s a great photographer and she works so hard and she was so oblivious to anyone other than herself. I couldn’t even think with all the racket, so I packed it up and left. Some people are just so abrasive.

6,000 Feet – 8 November 2008

Alas, we didn't get to see Swami Gyananandaji today, whom I lovingly think of as the Santa Claus saint. Swami Bhodichitanandaji had to work on his door to the kutir this morning and we got a late start. I had a great day with Swami Devabhaktanandaji and Swami Bhodichitanandaji, winding up beautiful mountain roads and exploring deserted forest roads and taking pictures of huge banyan trees and spiders. We even turned the siren and lights on once, just for fun.

We stopped by Swami Gyanananda's vacant kutir in the mountains and I got some good pix, one of me and Swamiji and some of a most gorgeous sunset. I was five minutes late for curfew last night and almost late again tonight. I spent most of the drive lying down on the bed in the back of the ambulance, it was very comfortable! Well, except when the roads got so bad they nearly bounced me off or the stretch that constantly switched back and forth and I had to hang on and all my weight was on my arms. It was a workout! I have to say, Swamiji's driving has improved immensely in the time I've been here. He drove through Dehradun like a native driver, and that’s saying a lot!

Mussoorie is a beautiful town at 6,000 feet. I got a picture of the elevation sign. I’ve never been that high up. I really wanted to see the Himalayas, but the weather and time didn’t allow. We got there right at sunset. It’s got great energy, even at night. The views are breathtaking.

Swami Devabhaktanandaji was very shy around me at first. I met him last year and briefly said Hi to him on the way to Swamiji’s kutir 4 or 5 days ago. He warmed up later and started telling me jokes and giving me travel destination advice and calling me Devibhakaji. He's so sweet and I love the playfulness between him and Swamiji. They've been friends for around 15 years.

I’ve been so blessed by the time I’ve spent with Swamiji. Ginaji tells me that I’m a blessing to him, as well. I do get that he enjoys my company and I think it gives him a chance to relate in a different way than he can with Indians. I got all teary tonight when I said goodbye, as I'm leaving tomorrow. I’m going to miss him and his ambulance.

Bliss! 11-11-08

I love it here. I mean, I LOVE it here. I've just been here one afternoon and I think I could stay forever! This makes the bliss I felt with Ganga Ma pale in comparison. Oy. *giggle*

It makes the last few hellish days totally worth it!

Tomorrow is Arunachala Full Moon Pradakshina, circumambulating the mountain. It's 14km or around 8 miles and traditionally done barefoot. Thousands of people do it on the full moon and it usually takes around 4 hours. I don't know if I'm doing it barefoot or not.

Things I love here, at the moment, in no particular order:

• Bhagwan Sri Ramana Maharshi's energy!!!
• The daughter of the Internet cafe owners, who looks to be 2 or 3 years old is adorable and flirts with me often.I'm staying right beside the Internet cafe, a chai stall and Sri Ramanasramam.
• There seem to be an equal amount of Westerners and Indians here. A large percentage of the Westerners seem to live here, they drive scooters and bikes and look like they ensconced. I've only heard 2 or 3 American accents, the rest sound European.
• There's wi fi everywhere!
• I get to stay at Sri Ramanasramam for three days starting 25 November, if I choose to.
• People have these white chalk-looking mandalas or yantras outside every entrance to their homes and shops.
• The side lanes are wide and quiet!

I'm sure there's more, but that's enough for now. I only slept catnaps in the airport last night, the flight today, and in the taxi coming here, so I'm going to get offline and get a full night's sleep. I'm glad I got here a day earlier than I originally planned, tomorrow night is the walk. I thought it would be the 13th, but no.

Thinking of you all often. Thanks for reading! Please consider commenting to let me know you're there.

Love and Blessings!

Sri Ramanashram - 11/11/08

Hello Beloveds.

My heart is so full today. I arrived in Thiruvannamalai at Sri Ramanashram after two and a half sometimes harrowing days where I was not connected with the Internet or with definitive lodging. I wrote two long posts in the interim, but I'm undecided about posting them as is, editing them or just not posting them at all. They feel so very irrelevant. The future will tell, I guess.

Now on to what I really want to post about. The Love here is amazing! I burst into tears when I entered the grounds. It's the very same Divine Love that radiates from Ginaji. It's Him - Ramana Maharshi, through Poonjaji, through Ginaji, through me! It's the "through me" that brings forth the tears. Again. Finally, I get it.

That's all I've got for now. Love you ALL!

Family Matters – 8 November 2008

My sister is visiting my parents from Florida and she sent me a picture she took today of a framed picture of me with my shaved head that she took them, sitting on their organ. She said she was going to take them the picture of me in front of the Taj Mahal because she thought it was the best picture I’ve ever taken. She said I looked at peace. I was really touched that she recognized it. I still can’t see any changes in myself, but others can. I have a whole post in my head about that and events that occurred in Varanasi, but it’s not quite cooked yet.

Anyway, I finally told my parents I shaved my head a few days ago and asked my sister to show them the photo gallery while she was there with her laptop. I had no idea she would frame the one of my shaved head! I didn’t want to traumatize them, I just wanted to poke them a little. The organ is prime real estate, I don’t think I’ve ever been on the organ before, so they must not be too traumatized. I should phone them to make sure.

I had a good yoga practice this morning that felt really good. It has occurred to me repeatedly this trip and I still maintain that yoga was invented here in India because one would be crippled after a week or two without it. The environment is harsh and demanding and my muscles and joints appreciate stretching out very much. I still haven’t started a regular practice of pranayama yet, but I did a wee bit today. It’s progress.

After my wild and zany evening with Swamiji, I phoned my mother to see how she was. She is shocked and baffled. She just doesn’t understand why I’d shave my head, no matter how many times and how many ways I explain it to her. She even sounded hurt. I don’t get her attachment to my hair. Actually, I realize it’s more than that to her. In her reality, things have MEANING and the meaning of me shaving my head is one that is very upsetting to her. I’m sure she’ll adjust to it, eventually. Or not. That’s her journey to take.

Tea Time By Ganga Ma – 7 November 2008

I just finished the most delicious cup of masala chai, brewed over an open wood fire, in the dark at Swamiji’s kutir. I’m sitting on a grass mat in the dark, 25 feet up on a ledge overlooking the rushing rapids typing away on my laptop. The cool breeze is contrasting nicely with the warmth from the dying fire. The sound of the conch shell from the temple across the river echoed wistfully and now I’m hearing the clanging of the bells. I shot a video of the tea being brewed on the fire, hopefully I can upload it and link to it.

Swamiji and Ramu, his labourer, are inside the kutir working on attaching the door. The carpenter was supposed to have it ready at 2pm, but when we showed up at 5, he hadn’t even started installing the hardware. Much hilarity ensued. Well, it was hilarious from my perspective. Swamiji lost his temper for a bit and then assisted with the installation. We finally brought it back here at 6:30. On the way to the carpenter’’ shop, we had the best dal makhani and lassi I’ve ever had. We were deep in locals territory.

Ramu was supposed to leave at 5:30, but was patiently waiting for us out on the road when we arrived. He carried the door on his head over the rocky beach, along a narrow wall, in the sand, down steep, uneven stairs and up a short incline that I had to take on all fours. In the dark. There was one passage where I couldn’t walk the wall, it was too narrow. I froze. I managed to backtrack and find another way. The trail descended sharply toward the end, just before it reached the wide wall to walk on. The last thing I heard from Swamiji, who was ahead, lighting the way for Ramu, was Don’t go in the Ganga! Always the helpful one, Swamiji. Sheesh. I butt-slid down that section and still had to do some fancy footwork to transition to the wall. I’m very lucky I didn’t go in the Ganga! I think this is the hairiest thing I’ve done to date. I can’t imagine carrying a full sized exterior door on my head while doing it!

I kept bursting out in a full faced smile while navigating the terrain to get here in the dark with only a wee pen light Swamiji loaned me. I love this! I don’t know if it’s living on the edge and triumphing in the face of huge odds that does it for me or what, but I feel the most intense joy. It’s difficult and it’s primitive; my muscles and joints are very sore, but I feel so alive! I was wearing my fully loaded backpack with laptop and two books on my back and my fully loaded waist pack around my waist. My center of gravity was noticeably off. I felt even more unstable toward the end of the trek and when I took my backpack off, I noticed that the computer compartment had come unzipped somehow and the laptop was hanging out, only held in by it’s compartment strap. Thank goodness I latched it in, a lot of times I forget. I felt quickly for the power cord and transformer and thankfully there were still in there. Whew, that was lucky. I’m going to lock the two zipper pulls together next time. My laptop could have landed in the Ganga!

The crickets and other night insects are singing loudly. I love that about this part of India. Seattle nights are silent. Virginia nights are cacophonous, just like this. I miss the symphony. Sitting here beside the embers and hearing the water and insects, it reminds me a lot of weekends at Lake Chesdin when I was growing up. My siblings hated going there, but I loved it. If I’m right about living in India in past lives, then no wonder I adored it there. It feels just like this. It’s getting cold now and the embers are nearly dead. I think it’s time for me to start trekking back to my ashram. My curfew is in 90 minutes and I want to take it slow. If this gets posted, you’ll know I made it!

Travel arrangements in India, not quick and easy.

I've spent around 4 hours on the Internet trying to map out the rest of my journey. So far the only thing I've accomplished is buying my plane ticket from Kerala back to Delhi to fly home on 23 December. That's a good thing, I need that :)

The Indian Rail website leaves a lot to be desired. Yikes, it's slow and cumbersome, but it eventually gives the needed. Airfares are crazy! The ticket price is quoted as 1,990 Rupees plus taxes. They don't tell you the taxes include a fuel charge and are 3,500 Rupees! Totally insane. I just don't feel like burning up time on a train right now though.

Dehradun and Mussoorie is tomorrow, then I'm off to an ashram in Haridwar. I'll be able to see the Himalayas in Mussoorie. The transportation and timing is just not working out for me to go to Dharamsala. Well, at this point anyway. Since it's already cold there, I doubt I'll be going later in the trip either. One never knows though...

Nice yoga practice this morning. Didn't make it to Swamiji's kutir today, the Internet ate my day. Saw a nice coat in a shop after breakfast, but I don't know where I'd put it in my luggage. I'd need it if I go north, but it doesn't look that way. I still may buy it and send it home. It rocks and I think I'll really regret it, if I don't buy it.

That's it for now. Time's up and Swamiji is picking me up to go into the market area. That's a wild place!

4 November 2008 - Election day in the US.

(Written before the polls opened in the US. Posted way out of order, I tend to write them and then lose them on my hard drive for a while. Sorry about that.)

I hope and pray for a fair process and legitimate outcome that is in the highest and best good of all.

Met a woman from the US at lunch today. She has just come from Kerala, where I’m heading in December. I showed her around a bit today. She’s a Sivananda disciple and is staying in the same place I am. She has put all of her things in storage and is here for eight months. She’s letting God guide the itinerary of her trip. It was nice to connect with her, being on a similar journey.

I’ve been listening to my guides today and have been very well served. After chanting the sun up with the Gayatri mantra, I went back to sleep. My body was quite a bit sore after the adventures of my first two days in town. I woke up periodically and went into deep meditation and sleep over and over. I was concerned about sleeping the day away, but my guides told me I was exactly where I was supposed to be, doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. There really is nowhere to go and nothing to do, they assured me. I melted into that and let my experiences integrate into my consciousness and my body restore itself.

Around 2pm, I got a clear message to get up and go to lunch. I contemplated several choices, but the message was Go To Madras. OK, that’s one of my faves, so I’ll go. I even knew what I’d order when I got there. I got dressed, thankful that my body felt lighter and more agile. I walked the short distance to Madras and entered just behind a Western woman. The waiter tried to seat us together, but I said we weren’t together and took the last available table. Immediately, I got the message to go sit with her. I told the waiter that took my order that I was moving to her table and he thanked me. I approached her table and before I could even ask, she said Yes, of course, please share the table with me. We both agreed it seemed wasteful to take up two tables.

She had just reached town after a 25 hour plane/train trip and this was her first meal here. She was grateful to have companionship that spoke fluent English. We talked incessantly for over an hour, then I showed her the Sivananda Ashram and a couple of Internet cafes. When I was paying my check at Madras, a male voice said “It’s a small world, yes?” I looked up to see Daniel, a gorgeous Frenchman I last saw in Varanasi at the cellular phone stall where we were both trying to sort out our non-functioning cell phones and he was a helpful translator for me with the proprietor. I love how the Universe reminds me that I’m not alone.

On the way up the stairs at the Sivananda Ashram, my crystal mala broke. I knew it was coming, I saw fraying a few days ago. I didn’t use it this morning, I used the rudraksha mala that my Kundalini Guruji gave me in Varanasi. I used it daily until today, hoping it would break mid chant, so I could immediately set it free in the Ganga, but it had it’s own ideas.

It is said that when a mala breaks, it signifies the end of a cycle. A completion. When I was meditating this morning, I was in one of my ebb modes where I was wondering if I was serving any purpose. Getting the message that I was in the perfect place, then meeting Narayani at lunch and showing her around, it felt like I was on Purpose. The timing of the mala breaking, right there on the steps of Sivananda with a disciple that was looking to me for guidance, felt perfect. The cycle of doubt is complete. Bring on the new cycle.

After Narayani and I parted ways, my guides sent me down to Aarti at Parmath. It’s a huge Aarti that’s held nightly on the opposite side of the river from where I’m staying. I hadn’t been since the tour. The Aarti is a fire ceremony celebrating the Ganga as Goddess. After Aarti, the ISKCon people had a celebration. They are better known as the Hari Krishnas. It was amazing. I chanted and danced and felt such hope for our future. There were hundreds of people, Western and Indian, chanting and dancing in bliss. Mostly I see Indians here. When I do see Westerners and Israelis, they are usually clumped together in groups. There hasn’t been much mixing, until tonight. Tonight, there was no noticeable clumping into similar groups, it was a total mishmash of people of all ages in bliss. It was so nice to see. It was so nice to experience.

I used to resist the down times. Today was a good lesson in why it’s good to allow them. Allowing them creates the opportunity and space for something magical to show up.

I Am So Blessed. – 6 November 2008

These are the words I uttered to myself as I entered my room just now. I was woken this morning by a phone call from Swamiji after spending a night sleeping propped up, having bad dreams and feeling like an elephant was on my chest. Yesterday morning, I developed a scratchy throat and unproductive cough that had bloomed into a full blown sore throat and cough by evening.

Swamiji told me he’d be at his kutir for a few hours, and invited me to come, so I got up and got dressed. I was a bit light headed and clammy, so I suspect I was a bit feverish. I asked within about going out and walking the wall and boulder field to get to the kutir and I got a resounding YES, so I went. I didn’t eat breakfast, since it was already so late and it took me forever just to get dressed. I wasn’t really hungry anyway and the thought of sitting and waiting for food somewhere was totally unappealing.

I got to Swamiji’s kutir just has he was getting ready to do his sadhana (daily practice) consisting of a bath, meditation and yoga. I spread out my sarong away from the river bank and settled in to listen to my Kundalini sessions to give him some privacy. When he was done down in the river, I went down and continued to listen to my session, meditated and then swam. I can feel the seasons changing. Each day is cooler and the angle of the sun is sharper. The nights are very cool now and that water is cold! It comes from snowmelt higher in the Himalayas and is fairly cold even at the height of summer.

Sitting in the forest and on the boulders at the edge of Ma Ganga is so healing for me. Just being with Swamiji is nourishing, we don’t even have to speak. While in the river, I had a conversation with Her about this “illness” and did a prayer treatment to restore my body to full health. It’s so easy to do the first two stages of treatment sitting in Ma Ganga’s lap. God is everywhere; there is nowhere It is not. Since that is true, then God is within me and I am not separate. The sunlight shimmering on the swift current as it rolled through the rapids seemed to speak directly to me. I felt at peace and that there is nowhere else on the planet I should be.

Yesterday and this morning each time I awoke, I would wonder when I should leave Rishikesh. Is this sickness enforcing a rest period? Should I leave and go to parts unknown and risk getting sicker where I don’t know anyone? What should I do? How will I know? I don’t seem to be doing anything here, just getting restless, perhaps it *is* time to go. Lather, rinse and repeat ad nauseam.

After I climbed out of the water and changed back into dry clothes, Swamiji said he still had 20 minutes of yoga to do. I read my new Kundalini Yoga book, basking in the sun and listening to the rapids. After about 40 minutes, I packed my pack and he came down from his sitting area. We agreed earlier that I would treat him to lunch at his favourite Germany Bakery restaurant. We walked a much kinder path to get to the road this time. I told him I couldn’t take that last path any more; I spent two days in bed after it the last time.

As we walked, we traversed a rock field under a temple on the shore of Ganga Ma. I couldn’t help but giggle, as a month ago, I was at that very temple with Jennifer and was wishing very hard I could get down the last 7 or 8 levels to the rock field beach below. Here I was today, on that beach looking up at the temple. I really am becoming good at manifestation *grin*

So we get to the bakery and it’s full to overflowing with the Hari Krishnas. I recognized them from the ghat the other night. They always look so blissed out. We would have stayed, but there was no room. We went higher up the hill to the owner’s second restaurant, which we had mostly to ourselves. We talked, read news reports of Obama’s win, laughed, listened to Eckhart Tolle on his phone and ate. The meal lasted over two hours. When we asked where our waiter was to clear the table for dessert, we were told he was sleeping. Such is India *smile* We discussed where I should go for the duration of my trip and how best to get there. We made plans to spend a day in Dehra Dun visiting his Guruji, whom I adore. The Santa Claus Saint!!! w00t!!!

I am nearly recovered. I don’t feel feverish in the least and I’m coughing very little. My body feels lighter and so does my soul. I don’t know why, all I can say is that it’s Grace. I’m on my way to the Internet café to plot out the rest of my journey. When I let myself in my room to pick up this laptop, I felt vastly different from when I left this morning. My whole being was flooded with, I Am So Blessed.

The Dirty Truth - 2 November 2008

Two nights before I left Varanasi, I got chak (a delicious potato cake with a spicy sauce of some sort) from a street vendor for dinner. It gets so dusty on the streets in Varanasi that often I have to breathe through my scarf. I watched him wipe the metal plate off with a very soiled rag and then serve my food on it. I felt within, silently asking my question. It felt safe. I ate.

The first 3 hours of the overnight train from Varanasi, I had the compartment to myself. Then a very loud extended family moved in and brought a picnic dinner. I watched the younger of the two children, a boy of 10, play with all the Styrofoam plates before they were used. He used his hands to draw imaginary figures on them. He lay the spoons down on the seat. This is the same train that I watched a mouse run down the aisle only an hour earlier. Of course, they offered me food. It’s what is done here. Of course, I accepted. It’s extremely rude not to. I inwardly cringed as I watched her scoop the dal and rice onto one of the plates her son had played with and handed me a spoon that had touched the seat. I felt within, silently asking my question. It felt safe. I ate.

My fingernails have perma crud under them. No matter how often I clean them, it’s black under there. I’ve cut them as short as I can stand, still black. I have a favourite local eatery here in Rishikesh. I am always the only Westerner in there. As I watched the flies buzzing around and the various surfaces in the place, I chuckled and realized that they must not have such a thing as a health department in India.

I watched a baby last night, perhaps 18 months old, playing in the chai bin. The same chai bin I watched a woman scoop the dry tea out of to make the cup of chai I was sipping. The baby put the scoop in, pulled the scoop out, put the scoop down on the filthy concrete “floor”, picked the scoop back up, put the scoop back in, pulled the scoop back out, put the scoop to its mouth and then started the cycle all over again. It was dark, but it was clear the place was very dirty. It’s on the side of the road on the sie of a mountain and doesn’t have any walls. Dinner was being cooked above a wood fire in a metal frame sitting on the ground. All of a sudden, my heart melted. This is Life. This is Love made manifest.

We have so many rules in the West. We try to sanitize everything. Sure, the rules were made with the best of intentions. Health is definitely important, but I think we go overboard and it’s spiraling out of control. It’s clear to me that our bodies are miraculous in adapting to conditions and keeping us safe. I think we’re obsessed with rules and it’s contributing in a big way to our culture of fear. I think living here is good for me. It’s allowing me to relax and trust Divine Wisdom and Order. There is no other way, really. It’s either relax, or explode. I prefer relaxing.

We Did IT!!!

I'm so proud of my country! We looked past racial prejudice and elected a statesman! w00t!!! I am sitting in an Internet cafe, just got the news, and tears are streaming down my face. I had little faith in the process and was concerned the election would be stolen again. I'm so happy to find my fears unfounded. I give thanks for the opportunity to again become a shining example to the rest of the world of how to conduct ourselves as a nation. I look forward to healing the deep wounds the last eight years have wrought on our economy and collective worldwide psyche.

Oh Thank God!

Oh Thank GOD!!

OH THANK GOD!!!

My definition of God – 5 November 2008

My current definition of God (as if any of us could define something of that magnitude) is that It is the One Cause of all the effects in the known and unknown realms of existence. All the names and forms we give It is just a place holder or focal point for an aspect of that One that is beyond all names and forms. So, when I say Goddess, Ganga Ma, God, Shiva, Shakti, Hanuman, Kali, Durga, Mataji, Jesus, Mother Mary or whatever, I mean that One Source of All. I don’t think these are isolated entities, merely aspects of the One.

I believe that God is omnipresent, which means there is nowhere God is not. Therefore, It’s in everything, seen and unseen. Since the mind can’t comprehend all that at the same time, there is duality and separateness, so that different facets can come to the forefront and be interacted with. To borrow from Ginaji’s cosmology, just as I am sister, daughter, mother, cook, professional, student, friend, cousin, geek, musician, lover, etc and still just one person, God is also multifaceted and we can interact with one or more of those facets at the same time, depending on the nature of the relationship and information being communicated.

I know my audience spans a wide range of spiritual beliefs and paths and I honour all of them. I have no intent to offend anyone or dismiss their path. I believe there are so many paths because people are vastly different and need different ways to access the Divine. I believe that the underlying motivation of all paths is Love. How do we experience Reunification with the Divine? The expression of that Love and Longing for Reunification is manifest as a spiritual path.

That’s my take on it as of this writing. I’m sure it will grow and change as I do. That’s one of the beauties of being alive on this plane of existence. Constant change.

Impermanence and Restlessness

November 5, 2008 (Written before the election results were in from the US.)

Nothing has convinced me more of the impermanence of thoughts and feelings than writing journal entries offline for posting later. By the time I get to the Internet to post them, they feel irrelevant. When I’m in the midst of them, they seem so huge and permanent. I’m resisting the urge to not post them, because they will act as a trail of breadcrumbs on my spiritual journey. If for no other reason, they are important for that.

I’m struggling today. I don’t know why I’m here. It feels like taking the time to write is taking time away from living. But, I lived the first five weeks of this trip without writing much and it feels like it has evaporated without a trace. At least writing leaves a trace. I suspect, like most things, there is a balance to be found.

I just extended my stay here two more days. That will take me to six days. I think I need to start booking reservations to Dharamsala if I’m going. Two weeks ago it was already cold there. I don’t have much in the way of cold weather gear, just a long sleeved chambray shirt, a windbreaker and some cotton sweat pants. I suppose I can layer three or four shirts under them for warmth. I have an abundance of scarves to wrap around this shorn head of mine.

I’m restless. I don’t know why I’m here. I’m just now getting to a place where I can entertain the thought of listening to my Kundalini Yoga sessions. That whole experience is the topic for another post, but let’s just say I got in my own way and leave it at that for now. If I delve into them, it’s going to take a lot of time. There are ten sessions of at least an hour, and some went almost two hours. There’s the stopping and taking notes that I didn’t have time to do while the sessions were going on and then there’s the actual practices. This is going to take a long time. Besides, do I really want to awaken the Kundalini energy when I’m traveling alone? I think that’s what’s holding me back the most.

I don’t know if I’m supposed to do all that here or somewhere else. I don’t know if I’m supposed to circumambulate Mt. Aranachula on the full moon or not. I don’t know if I’m supposed to meet friends in Amritsar or go alone to Dharamsala. I’m even wavering on Ammachi’s ashram, Amitapuri, in December. I vacillate between thinking I need to stay in one place so I can go deep and thinking I should make use of this time to see as many places and facets of the culture here that I can. I realize this is one of the ebb days, where I’m still gathering energy for the next surge. I’m trying to be patient with myself and this process. I haven’t seen Swamiji for two days, so I’m going there to spend some time in the forest with him today while he hangs his door. If I can transfer the Kundalini sessions to my voice recorder, I can listen and take notes and practice some of the asanas and pranayamas. I didn’t swim in Ganga Ma yesterday and I feel the need strongly. If I leave here, I leave her and that thought makes me sad.

Had a nice meditation after my mala of Gayatri on the ghat this morning. God told me I would always be supported and I looked down and saw a rupee coin half buried in the sand under the water. I smiled and fished it out of the river and put it in my pocket. I feel so greedy, even with all these tangible demonstrations, I want more. It’s like I’m never satisfied and it’s never enough. I’d love to fill the void that is always wanting more evidence. I think that’s what I was looking for out of this trip and it’s not happening. I think that’s the cause of my restlessness. So much for the cycle of doubt being over. *sigh*.

This all stems from a scarcity consciousness. I know how to treat for that. I don’t want to skip over the feeling it part though, because I think it carries my humanity within it. Immediately skipping to the treating stage sometimes feels like transcending the experience of being alive, which I’ve already decided I don’t want to do. So I’ll feel the restlessness and bring love to the one who feels it.

Namasté from Rishikesh

I’ve been in India over a month and this is my first blog post. I haven’t felt like writing about it for some reason, which is quite unusual for me. The three week River of Sound Tour with Gina Salá was an amazing experience for me. I’ve never felt completely accepted and respected in a group setting before. India is just as bizarrely wonderful and intense as I remembered, yet it isn’t as mind blowing. I am not the same person that was here before.

I bonded deeply with everyone on the tour and made lifelong friendships. Unfortunately, a relationship ended with a partner that was also on the tour. I think hearing about my path was not the same as seeing me on my path and it became apparent to both of us that we are on different journeys with different needs and expectations. It was handled with love and respect and grace on both of our parts. I really value that.

I suspect I'll be writing retrospectively about the tour as different aspects become integrated into my consciousness, so stay tuned for that. After the tour, I spent 16 days in Varanasi. I had originally planned 3 weeks there, then I revised the plan to 1 week so I could spend more time in Rishikesh, then I finally let God decide. I was immersed in classical North Indian vocal lessons and Kundalini Yoga sessions. It was intense, to say the least. Ginaji was also there and we had some time to hang out a bit some days. One day we took an auto rickshaw into Sarnath and had a walking meditation and satsang with Thich Nhat Hanh. We arrived the same time he did and we walked mindfully with him to the Stupa where he was holding satsang. We were never more than two people away from him. He is a wonderful Presence. He just radiates peace. We did a walking meditation after satsang, in the dark, all around the grounds. It was quite mystical.

It’s been 11 days since I got my new name: Devi Bhaktananda. It’s been 9 days since I shaved my head; part of my process for integrating the outer with the inner and fully embodying my new identity. Ginaji gave me my name and helped shave my head. I’m so very blessed to have her Presence in my life, mirroring back the divinity that is in me and in all of us. Ginaji left Varanasi 7 days ahead of me and I’ve been on my own for 9 days. Except, I have so many dear people here that I consider family, I don’t feel alone, yet. Once I venture out to cities I’ve never visited, I’ll feel alone, but only as long as it takes to make new friends who may become family. In reality, I'm never alone.

India, even with all her wildness, feels so normal to me. I guess that’s why I don’t feel like posting. It just feels natural and why would anyone want to read about such normality? Except, I realized today, this is far from normal. Today alone I’ve climbed up a hill so steep that I was using my hands and feet and was almost standing upright while doing it, swam in Ganga Ma, growled at monkeys to back them off and stared over a sheer cliff while riding up a winding mountain road in the dark in an old ambulance. This is not quite normal.

I’ve been in Rishikesh for not quite two days and I’ve been hanging out with Swami Bhodichitananda-ji in his quest to find and build a new home for himself, a kutir, on the banks of Ganga Ma. It’s getting increasingly difficult for sannyasins (holy men) to find land to live on. Commercialism is fast eating up all the riverfront sites with resorts and trekking and such. It’s very sad, the name of the city is Rishikesh, for heaven’s sake. It’s for the rishis, or holy men, not the commercial interests.

Hanging with Swamiji is like hanging with my best bud when I was 12. We’ve been scampering over boulder fields, crawling up cliffs, walking a path on a steep hillside that was only as wide as one of my feet, walking on concrete walls, driving up questionable roads in the dark in an old ambulance, sitting silently by the river in the daylight and after dark, swimming, joking, teasing, laughing, eating, drinking, and generally just living and loving life. I was so sore after yesterday, I slept until two after getting up and chanting a mala of Gayatri at sunrise. Oh the sun coming up over the ridge here, pure heaven!

Today’s adventures were more physical than yesterday’s. I was already achy today from a tumble I took walking along a flat, wide road last night. All the precarious balancing and climbing I was doing yesterday and I was fine. Walking alone along a wide, mostly flat road last night and I trip on a step up that I didn’t expect. Luckily, I somehow went down so slowly that I didn’t break any skin other than a bit of road rash on my 2nd toe of one foot. I was walking very fast and felt held up on the way down. I had a heavy backpack on and my center of gravity was off, and I even hit my chin on the road. It was all very gentle, though. I tried to keep my chin from hitting, but the momentum was too much. I have no idea how I didn’t break the skin on my knees, hands or chin. I’m quite fortunate that I didn’t face plant in a cow pie, as that stretch is quite covered with them. One knee is pretty bruised up and sore. It was interesting climbing up stairs that hit me about mid thigh. Again on all fours. I’m hoping a 2nd day of intense physical activity will ease the stiffness and soreness. Either that, or I’m spending another day in bed.

Some local young men are helping Swamiji with his quest for a new kutir. They can’t quite figure me out. Here I am with a shaved head and dressing in shades of orange usually associated with Swamis and going everywhere with Swamiji. “Are you a Swamiji?”
“No.”
“Do you live at Sivananda Ashram?”
“No.”
Are you a disciple of Swamiji’s?”
“No, just a friend.”
Perplexed look. “Are you Hindi?”
“No.”
Smile. “Yes, you are. I think you are a little bit Hindi.”
“Yes, maybe you’re right, I’m a little bit Hindi. I’m a little bit Everything.” Big smile.

OK, that’s enough for this post. I’m saving the story of careening around hairpin turns on the side of a mountain in an old ambulance cum mobile kutir for my book. As one of the locals sitting in the back was calling out “Use brakes, USE BRAKES!”, I smiled nervously and thought to myself, “This is exactly the type of thing my family is afraid of me doing here...” It’s all good. God was driving.