Been back in Tiruvannamalai for 5 days now. It feels good to be home. Transitioning to the next phase of my trip, which will find me in New York city in less than a week! Oh my. Lots going on inside me around this. Not many words for it.
I love my home here. It truly is home. I'll be back.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Kanyakumari – 13 January, 2009
Arrived in Kanyakumari just at sunset for the most glorious shades of red and orange I’ve ever seen. This place is wild. It reminds me of the gauntlet we run on our way to the main ghat in Varanasi to watch the aarti, just bigger. It’s like a carnival.
I got a Reiki 1st Degree attunement the day before yesterday, so now I can practice. I’ve been wanting to do that for a while, since before I left Seattle and three days ago, a perfect opportunity presented itself. Yesterday, I felt restless and had a strong urge to leave Varkala, like my time there was done. I had an appointment for three root canals this afternoon, followed by three crowns in about a week, so I thought perhaps I was supposed to stay there for the rest of my trip. The dental work felt right at first and then I got a No this morning when I asked my body, so I canceled and packed my things. I’ve been wanting to come to Kanyakumari, so here I am.
I’ll watch the sunrise over the convergence of the Bay of Bengal, Indian Ocean and Arabian Sea, visit a temple or three, visit the Vivekananda ashram, eat a bite of breakfast (they have kitchadi on the menu! w00t!) and then hop a train for parts north.
I’m done waiting for the textbook. If it’s not there tomorrow, I’m off to Tiruvannamalai or Pondicherry or the Golden City with Jordi. It’s time to move.
Tonight, I’m in the filthiest room yet. I don’t think the sheets have ever been washed. I’m sleeping in my sleepsack on top of the bedspread. At least that looks fairly clean. I’ve got a shirt over the bedspread where the pillow is so I don’t have any skin touching it. The sink doesn’t look like it’s been washed in months. The air is pretty dead in here; dusty. It’s only for one night, so it’s not a big deal, and it’s cheap. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble getting up at 5:30am to wander around before sunrise. I think I’ll gladly leave :)
I can see a beautiful offshore stone memorial to Swami Vivekananda from the roof. I want to check it out in the morning. I also want to see the Devi Kumari temple and the Vivekananda Ashram. The train leaves at 10am. Hopefully when I phone the ashram on my way up the coast, my book will be there. If not, I’ll ask the university to resend it to my daughter’s in NY. Two weeks is more than enough time to wait. Class is in session, I need the book.
I got a Reiki 1st Degree attunement the day before yesterday, so now I can practice. I’ve been wanting to do that for a while, since before I left Seattle and three days ago, a perfect opportunity presented itself. Yesterday, I felt restless and had a strong urge to leave Varkala, like my time there was done. I had an appointment for three root canals this afternoon, followed by three crowns in about a week, so I thought perhaps I was supposed to stay there for the rest of my trip. The dental work felt right at first and then I got a No this morning when I asked my body, so I canceled and packed my things. I’ve been wanting to come to Kanyakumari, so here I am.
I’ll watch the sunrise over the convergence of the Bay of Bengal, Indian Ocean and Arabian Sea, visit a temple or three, visit the Vivekananda ashram, eat a bite of breakfast (they have kitchadi on the menu! w00t!) and then hop a train for parts north.
I’m done waiting for the textbook. If it’s not there tomorrow, I’m off to Tiruvannamalai or Pondicherry or the Golden City with Jordi. It’s time to move.
Tonight, I’m in the filthiest room yet. I don’t think the sheets have ever been washed. I’m sleeping in my sleepsack on top of the bedspread. At least that looks fairly clean. I’ve got a shirt over the bedspread where the pillow is so I don’t have any skin touching it. The sink doesn’t look like it’s been washed in months. The air is pretty dead in here; dusty. It’s only for one night, so it’s not a big deal, and it’s cheap. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble getting up at 5:30am to wander around before sunrise. I think I’ll gladly leave :)
I can see a beautiful offshore stone memorial to Swami Vivekananda from the roof. I want to check it out in the morning. I also want to see the Devi Kumari temple and the Vivekananda Ashram. The train leaves at 10am. Hopefully when I phone the ashram on my way up the coast, my book will be there. If not, I’ll ask the university to resend it to my daughter’s in NY. Two weeks is more than enough time to wait. Class is in session, I need the book.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Varkala - 8 January 2009
I’ve moved from the cliff above the beach to well, I’m not sure where. I’m on a road, as opposed to the numerous dirt tracks that crisscross this place. It’s very quiet, all I can hear are crickets and the rare rickshaw or motorbike. I’m a 15 or 20 minute walk to the beach below the cliff, depending on my route and how many times I get lost, or a 5 minute walk to the Black Beach, which is a tiny slice of beach with black sand north of the cliff/strip and is pretty much non commercial. I’ve been in and out eight or nine times and can’t find the same route to the cliff and back twice. This place is *definitely* not on a grid and there are many blind dead end paths. Today, walking along a dirt path under coconut palms, lost, I realized I live here, in the jungle. Truly. It’s a nice realization.
It’s been healing for me to be here. It’s an uncanny combination of past and present and bodes well for my future. I often feel totally disconnected from various past segments of my life. They are so vastly different from each other and there feels like there’s no continuity nor any going back. Living here, in a place that feels so much like Myrtle Beach, where I have the best memories of my married life, raising my children and spending quality time as a family, yet still being in India, is allowing me integrate my past with my present and shows me possibilities of living fully integrated with all things I love.
Tonight, I sat in the surf, on the sand, and chanted a mala of Gayatri mantra as the sun sunk in and out of clouds and finally into the sea in a dazzling display of red. It so reminded me of sitting in my reclining lawn chair in the surf, like I did countless times at Myrtle Beach, moving back when the incoming tide knocked the chair over. Tonight, I moved back when the breakers ganged up on me. The beach is such that mostly the waves break twice, once out deep and then again around knee depth, again, like Myrtle Beach. Then there were the sneaky ones that broke a third time, right on me and spun me around and knocked me over. And then there were the even sneakier ones that came around from the back and tried to drag me out to sea, with me giggling, of course. I think it’s one of life’s greatest pleasures to sit in the surf and another of life’s greatest pleasures to chant Gayatri to the sunrise or sunset. To combine them is beyond exquisite. I didn’t even care that sand was going just everywhere. There was a 4 year old boy playing naked in the surf beside me and I recognized we were the same: totally free and joy filled :)
There is constant music in the open air restaurants along the cliff. Last night, dinner was accompanied by a live classical Indian music concert. Tonight was blues night at the same restaurant. I dined to Tracey Chapman at a different restaurant, listening to a CD that we listened to over and over on our drive down to Florida in 1990 for a girls and kids only trip. That was the first chink in the wall of my self-made prison. I remember when my best friend at the time, Tammy, first mentioned the possibility of us taking the kids to Florida for a week without our husbands. My first thought was, He’ll never allow me to go. Tammy is nothing if not persistent and she talked about it enough for me to get my nerve up to bring it up to my husband. Over time, with her urging, he warmed up to the idea. I remember standing on the Cocoa Beach one night, looking up at the stars and kicking the surf with my feet, singing Elton John’s Can You Feel The Love Tonight from The Lion King, looking up at the stars and marveling at the fact that I was in Florida on my own. That little slice of freedom was so sweet!
And tonight, I’m writing this in India. On my own. Totally free. I just got in at 1:10am after having a beer with Susan, the proprietor, and some of the guests of The Bohemian Masala, a brand new resort with authentic tribal huts and many other sweet features, including hammocks and a restaurant with a fire pit. There is great feminine energy there and Susan reminds me of a VooDoo priestess.
I was restless in my room around 11:30 and wandered over there. I went under the thatched roof area and asked if there was any beer left and Susan said, Oh, it’s you! I walk through there sometimes looking for the beach and the cliff and we had a nice chat the other day. It’s nice to be memorable :)
My last traveling companion moved on yesterday. This is the first time I’ve been alone since mid December, almost a month. I loved traveling with her and hanging out here at the beach. We share a similar history. We were both street smart kids, hanging out in drug and alcohol circles in our early teens, had unsatisfactory marriages, raised kids, found our spiritual paths and found ourselves with bunks next to each other in a dorm with 34 other women at Amma’s ashram. I love how the Universe keeps delivering very special people to me at just the right time. Talking with her here has also helped me integrate those various parts of my life. That said, I’m relishing my alone time. I like having the light on in the room at 1:30am, typing on my computer without disturbing anyone. It feels good to be alone.
Class started today. It’s Multimedia for Web Design this term, the last class I need to get my certificate. The final is to tell a story using Flash, creating the art, audio and video ourselves. I’m certain it will be an India story, but I don’t know which one just yet. I love graphics and audio and video. This is going to be so much fun!
Being here and doing Western type things is helping me adjust to the transition of this journey into the next phase in the West. I’m cultivating my tan, shopping, listening to good music, dining on good food, sipping cocktails and listening to the waves crash on the shore. I’m watching episodes of Gray’s Anatomy on my computer late at night. I’m playing with photos and designing banners and updating websites during the day. I’m doing headstands and yoga and meditating on the beach. It’s hot and sunny every day and I can wear a bathing suit and camisole tops. I looked at a picture I took of myself the night before I left Seattle and then looked in the mirror and the difference is striking. My whole face and head has changed shape. My forearms, wrists and hands haven’t felt like this since my early twenties. I’m shifting into a place of looking forward to going home. I was definitely not ready at the end of December, so I’m glad I extended the trip a month. Varkala is such a nice surprise, I had no idea it would be like this when I decided to come here.
It’s been healing for me to be here. It’s an uncanny combination of past and present and bodes well for my future. I often feel totally disconnected from various past segments of my life. They are so vastly different from each other and there feels like there’s no continuity nor any going back. Living here, in a place that feels so much like Myrtle Beach, where I have the best memories of my married life, raising my children and spending quality time as a family, yet still being in India, is allowing me integrate my past with my present and shows me possibilities of living fully integrated with all things I love.
Tonight, I sat in the surf, on the sand, and chanted a mala of Gayatri mantra as the sun sunk in and out of clouds and finally into the sea in a dazzling display of red. It so reminded me of sitting in my reclining lawn chair in the surf, like I did countless times at Myrtle Beach, moving back when the incoming tide knocked the chair over. Tonight, I moved back when the breakers ganged up on me. The beach is such that mostly the waves break twice, once out deep and then again around knee depth, again, like Myrtle Beach. Then there were the sneaky ones that broke a third time, right on me and spun me around and knocked me over. And then there were the even sneakier ones that came around from the back and tried to drag me out to sea, with me giggling, of course. I think it’s one of life’s greatest pleasures to sit in the surf and another of life’s greatest pleasures to chant Gayatri to the sunrise or sunset. To combine them is beyond exquisite. I didn’t even care that sand was going just everywhere. There was a 4 year old boy playing naked in the surf beside me and I recognized we were the same: totally free and joy filled :)
There is constant music in the open air restaurants along the cliff. Last night, dinner was accompanied by a live classical Indian music concert. Tonight was blues night at the same restaurant. I dined to Tracey Chapman at a different restaurant, listening to a CD that we listened to over and over on our drive down to Florida in 1990 for a girls and kids only trip. That was the first chink in the wall of my self-made prison. I remember when my best friend at the time, Tammy, first mentioned the possibility of us taking the kids to Florida for a week without our husbands. My first thought was, He’ll never allow me to go. Tammy is nothing if not persistent and she talked about it enough for me to get my nerve up to bring it up to my husband. Over time, with her urging, he warmed up to the idea. I remember standing on the Cocoa Beach one night, looking up at the stars and kicking the surf with my feet, singing Elton John’s Can You Feel The Love Tonight from The Lion King, looking up at the stars and marveling at the fact that I was in Florida on my own. That little slice of freedom was so sweet!
And tonight, I’m writing this in India. On my own. Totally free. I just got in at 1:10am after having a beer with Susan, the proprietor, and some of the guests of The Bohemian Masala, a brand new resort with authentic tribal huts and many other sweet features, including hammocks and a restaurant with a fire pit. There is great feminine energy there and Susan reminds me of a VooDoo priestess.
I was restless in my room around 11:30 and wandered over there. I went under the thatched roof area and asked if there was any beer left and Susan said, Oh, it’s you! I walk through there sometimes looking for the beach and the cliff and we had a nice chat the other day. It’s nice to be memorable :)
My last traveling companion moved on yesterday. This is the first time I’ve been alone since mid December, almost a month. I loved traveling with her and hanging out here at the beach. We share a similar history. We were both street smart kids, hanging out in drug and alcohol circles in our early teens, had unsatisfactory marriages, raised kids, found our spiritual paths and found ourselves with bunks next to each other in a dorm with 34 other women at Amma’s ashram. I love how the Universe keeps delivering very special people to me at just the right time. Talking with her here has also helped me integrate those various parts of my life. That said, I’m relishing my alone time. I like having the light on in the room at 1:30am, typing on my computer without disturbing anyone. It feels good to be alone.
Class started today. It’s Multimedia for Web Design this term, the last class I need to get my certificate. The final is to tell a story using Flash, creating the art, audio and video ourselves. I’m certain it will be an India story, but I don’t know which one just yet. I love graphics and audio and video. This is going to be so much fun!
Being here and doing Western type things is helping me adjust to the transition of this journey into the next phase in the West. I’m cultivating my tan, shopping, listening to good music, dining on good food, sipping cocktails and listening to the waves crash on the shore. I’m watching episodes of Gray’s Anatomy on my computer late at night. I’m playing with photos and designing banners and updating websites during the day. I’m doing headstands and yoga and meditating on the beach. It’s hot and sunny every day and I can wear a bathing suit and camisole tops. I looked at a picture I took of myself the night before I left Seattle and then looked in the mirror and the difference is striking. My whole face and head has changed shape. My forearms, wrists and hands haven’t felt like this since my early twenties. I’m shifting into a place of looking forward to going home. I was definitely not ready at the end of December, so I’m glad I extended the trip a month. Varkala is such a nice surprise, I had no idea it would be like this when I decided to come here.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Varkala - 5 January 2009
How did it get to be 5 January already? It’s just after midnight and I can’t sleep, so I’m out on the front porch listening to the waves crash on the shore and typing this blog entry so I don’t wake up my roommate. The moon is waxing and golden and casting a beautiful golden path of light on the sea. The guys in the restaurant next door are cleaning up and shouting to each other. Sleeping here is a challenge.
I had the best fish ever tonight, barracuda. First time tasting that and it’s exquisite. It’s nice having one of the best kitchens in town five steps from my front door.
I’m in very weird head and spiritual space here. Varkala is a strange mixture of India and the West and a mixture of my past and present. It feels like the Myrtle Beach of India. I’m so thrilled to be here and so comfortable, yet very restless and unsettled. I’m having difficulty integrating it. I sense a trend here, I get unsettled when I’m not doing something “productive”. I think it’s time to shift my definition of productive. Rest and relaxation and nurturing myself is definitely productive. I deserve this, I’ve been working hard, yet I’m finding it hard to let it in.
All indications are that I’m supposed to be chilling out here and recharging my batteries. I don’t know how long I’ll be here or where I’m going next. Not knowing is pressing my buttons. All three months of this trip have been grueling in many ways and it feels very odd to be comfortable and have everything I need and a beach and an ocean clean enough to swim in, which are two of my favourite things, just steps away. Yet, there is major discomfort that I can’t pinpoint the source of. I think part of it is just how expensive it is to stay here.
I have a parcel that is supposed to be enroute to Amma’s ashram that I need for my new school term that starts 7 January. It hasn’t arrived yet and I have no idea when it will get here. Trying to get information out of my university is an exercise in futility, so I’ll stick around, phoning the ashram every day until it shows up or until I give up on it. They ship overnight in the US and the book usually arrives the day before class starts. I have no idea what the process is for overseas shipments. All I know is that my advisor confirms that they have the proper address. I had arranged to use Amrita University’s Internet connection for my class this term, but since I left the ashram, that’s not possible. I’m not sure how I’m going to do this, I may have to do the alternate assignment each week until I return to the states. There is no Internet café here that’s open at 6:30am on Tuesday mornings. I just looked at a calendar and found I’m only going to miss two classes, so that’s no big deal. Nice.
It’s expensive here, but not as expensive as living in Seattle. It’s about midway in between typical India prices and Seattle prices. Most of the time I don’t even feel like I’m in India here. Until I try to sleep on the hard mattress and pillow, that is :) Just now, I heard a kitten crying and started tilting my laptop screen around to shed light and see if I could find it and found there is a dog curled up on my welcome mat about two feet behind me. Yes, it’s still India :)
My room is very nice and so is my traveling companion and roommate, but I prefer living alone. She’s moving on day after tomorrow, so there’s just the rest of this night and the next. It’s been great sharing the rent, I don’t think I could have stayed otherwise. We got here at the peak of the year. This has been a trend, first Tiru, then Amritapuri, now Varkala; each at their peak. Things were booked up solid until after the 5th and prices will start dropping then, whew. I think I’ll be able to find an affordable room when she leaves.
We looked for hours for a room when we got here and the few that were available were outrageously expensive. US price expensive. I was getting extremely frustrated and was ready to hail a taxi and continue onward to Kanukamari, the southernmost tip of India. It was hot, around 98 ° F, and we were lugging our luggage up and down the strip and down narrow dirt tracks at midday. The four of us ate lunch, then left one of us with the luggage while one of us stashed their luggage at a storage hut and headed to the beach. Kate and I were searching for rooms, walking up the strip, and all of a sudden, I heard UB40’s Red Red Wine playing on the stereo at a patio restaurant beside us. An intense wave of peace and joy flooded over me. For some reason, that song has always moved my soul and I have very special memories of it. I stopped, looked down at the beach and ocean, then looked up at the palm trees, deep blue sky and blazing sun. At that moment, I knew everything was totally perfect. I started singing and dancing; spinning around and around as I walked. People all around me started smiling and laughing and wishing me a Happy New Year and were reaching out to shake my hand.
Just beyond the restaurant was a dirt track and at the end of it I could see a room with floor to ceiling windows. The drapes were open and I could see clean linens stacked at the foot of the beds. I could tell the room was empty. I started down the track while continuing to sing and spin and dance. Kate looked bewildered, but smiled and followed me. We got to the room and she asked if it was my room. I told her it was a room, but I didn’t know who’s just yet, and smiled. We looked and couldn’t find the owner. The tailor next door said he was gone and to come back later. We went back to the strip and the shopkeeper on the other side of the dirt track said to wait, and he went to get the owner. We negotiated a better price than for some of the rooms we saw way off of the track, around the third row back from the cliff. This room has floor to ceiling windows on two sides and is large with a very nice attached bath. A woman came to enquire about booking it less than a minute after we negotiated the deal. Three of us shared it the first night, then one moved on.
After we checked in, Kate told the others that she didn’t know what was going on, but could tell I was “riding something” and she decided to come along for the ride. It was truly magical the way it just came to me that I was totally supported. I went from being totally frustrated and at my limit to joyous in the blink of an eye. I just knew. I love that I recognized it and went with it and didn’t question it or try to dissect it. I just trusted. And so it was.
I know a lot of what I post sounds like I’m living in the lap of luxury. While this trip truly is an exquisite experience, what I’m not sure is coming across is the excruciating exhaustion that comes from being in a land of such extremes. It’s not easy being here. I have given up so much, so many layers of physical and emotional comforts. Everyone wants something from me, they consider me the rich Westerner. I have to work so hard to get my basic needs met. By their standards, I am rich. But in reality, I have next to nothing, other than what’s in my suitcase, and no steady source of income. I’m far away from family and loved friends with extremely limited resources. I’m not complaining, just trying to paint an accurate, balanced picture. The benefits of this trip are beyond measure, but they haven’t come without a price.
I had the best fish ever tonight, barracuda. First time tasting that and it’s exquisite. It’s nice having one of the best kitchens in town five steps from my front door.
I’m in very weird head and spiritual space here. Varkala is a strange mixture of India and the West and a mixture of my past and present. It feels like the Myrtle Beach of India. I’m so thrilled to be here and so comfortable, yet very restless and unsettled. I’m having difficulty integrating it. I sense a trend here, I get unsettled when I’m not doing something “productive”. I think it’s time to shift my definition of productive. Rest and relaxation and nurturing myself is definitely productive. I deserve this, I’ve been working hard, yet I’m finding it hard to let it in.
All indications are that I’m supposed to be chilling out here and recharging my batteries. I don’t know how long I’ll be here or where I’m going next. Not knowing is pressing my buttons. All three months of this trip have been grueling in many ways and it feels very odd to be comfortable and have everything I need and a beach and an ocean clean enough to swim in, which are two of my favourite things, just steps away. Yet, there is major discomfort that I can’t pinpoint the source of. I think part of it is just how expensive it is to stay here.
I have a parcel that is supposed to be enroute to Amma’s ashram that I need for my new school term that starts 7 January. It hasn’t arrived yet and I have no idea when it will get here. Trying to get information out of my university is an exercise in futility, so I’ll stick around, phoning the ashram every day until it shows up or until I give up on it. They ship overnight in the US and the book usually arrives the day before class starts. I have no idea what the process is for overseas shipments. All I know is that my advisor confirms that they have the proper address. I had arranged to use Amrita University’s Internet connection for my class this term, but since I left the ashram, that’s not possible. I’m not sure how I’m going to do this, I may have to do the alternate assignment each week until I return to the states. There is no Internet café here that’s open at 6:30am on Tuesday mornings. I just looked at a calendar and found I’m only going to miss two classes, so that’s no big deal. Nice.
It’s expensive here, but not as expensive as living in Seattle. It’s about midway in between typical India prices and Seattle prices. Most of the time I don’t even feel like I’m in India here. Until I try to sleep on the hard mattress and pillow, that is :) Just now, I heard a kitten crying and started tilting my laptop screen around to shed light and see if I could find it and found there is a dog curled up on my welcome mat about two feet behind me. Yes, it’s still India :)
My room is very nice and so is my traveling companion and roommate, but I prefer living alone. She’s moving on day after tomorrow, so there’s just the rest of this night and the next. It’s been great sharing the rent, I don’t think I could have stayed otherwise. We got here at the peak of the year. This has been a trend, first Tiru, then Amritapuri, now Varkala; each at their peak. Things were booked up solid until after the 5th and prices will start dropping then, whew. I think I’ll be able to find an affordable room when she leaves.
We looked for hours for a room when we got here and the few that were available were outrageously expensive. US price expensive. I was getting extremely frustrated and was ready to hail a taxi and continue onward to Kanukamari, the southernmost tip of India. It was hot, around 98 ° F, and we were lugging our luggage up and down the strip and down narrow dirt tracks at midday. The four of us ate lunch, then left one of us with the luggage while one of us stashed their luggage at a storage hut and headed to the beach. Kate and I were searching for rooms, walking up the strip, and all of a sudden, I heard UB40’s Red Red Wine playing on the stereo at a patio restaurant beside us. An intense wave of peace and joy flooded over me. For some reason, that song has always moved my soul and I have very special memories of it. I stopped, looked down at the beach and ocean, then looked up at the palm trees, deep blue sky and blazing sun. At that moment, I knew everything was totally perfect. I started singing and dancing; spinning around and around as I walked. People all around me started smiling and laughing and wishing me a Happy New Year and were reaching out to shake my hand.
Just beyond the restaurant was a dirt track and at the end of it I could see a room with floor to ceiling windows. The drapes were open and I could see clean linens stacked at the foot of the beds. I could tell the room was empty. I started down the track while continuing to sing and spin and dance. Kate looked bewildered, but smiled and followed me. We got to the room and she asked if it was my room. I told her it was a room, but I didn’t know who’s just yet, and smiled. We looked and couldn’t find the owner. The tailor next door said he was gone and to come back later. We went back to the strip and the shopkeeper on the other side of the dirt track said to wait, and he went to get the owner. We negotiated a better price than for some of the rooms we saw way off of the track, around the third row back from the cliff. This room has floor to ceiling windows on two sides and is large with a very nice attached bath. A woman came to enquire about booking it less than a minute after we negotiated the deal. Three of us shared it the first night, then one moved on.
After we checked in, Kate told the others that she didn’t know what was going on, but could tell I was “riding something” and she decided to come along for the ride. It was truly magical the way it just came to me that I was totally supported. I went from being totally frustrated and at my limit to joyous in the blink of an eye. I just knew. I love that I recognized it and went with it and didn’t question it or try to dissect it. I just trusted. And so it was.
I know a lot of what I post sounds like I’m living in the lap of luxury. While this trip truly is an exquisite experience, what I’m not sure is coming across is the excruciating exhaustion that comes from being in a land of such extremes. It’s not easy being here. I have given up so much, so many layers of physical and emotional comforts. Everyone wants something from me, they consider me the rich Westerner. I have to work so hard to get my basic needs met. By their standards, I am rich. But in reality, I have next to nothing, other than what’s in my suitcase, and no steady source of income. I’m far away from family and loved friends with extremely limited resources. I’m not complaining, just trying to paint an accurate, balanced picture. The benefits of this trip are beyond measure, but they haven’t come without a price.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Varkala - 3 January 2009
In Varkala now. I did my 3rd polar bear plunge New Year's Day in the Arabian Sea in 75 degree water. I think it still counts. It' was New Year's Day, wasn't it?
It's so lovely here, just what my soul needed. I'm been blessed with yet another wonderful traveling companion. I'm so glad my path is not renunciation, I love this world! Being in the flow of Grace is quite awesome. Right now, I'm sitting at the top of a cliff over the sea. I can hear the waves. There are shops all along the top of the cliff with twinkly lights woven in the trees. There is music and bright, bold colours everywhere. It's pure heaven!
The weather is in the upper 90's and sunny every day. The sea is green and blue and the waves are perfect for body surfing. All Indian dress code restrictions are lifted and Western women here wear bikinis and shorts and camisole tops. I have sunburn on my shoulders and thighs!
There is a cliff-top strip of shopping and dining in thatched roofed restaurants. The fish is caught daily and laid out for diners to select from. The grilled marlin is exquisite! I've also had the best naan here I've ever eaten.
Yesterday, I ran into a woman and her friend that I originally met in Tiru, the one with the Seattle and poly community ties. I played frisbee and hung out on the beach today with a lesbian couple that recognized me from Amma's ashram. Both stopped by our table tonight at dinner to chat. It's amazing, I've been in town less than three days and have friends here.
The weather is in the upper 90's and sunny every day. The sea is green and blue and the waves are perfect for body surfing. All Indian dress code restrictions are lifted and Western women here wear bikinis and shorts and camisole tops. I have sunburn on my shoulders and thighs!
There is a cliff-top strip of shopping and dining in thatched roofed restaurants. The fish is caught daily and laid out for diners to select from. The grilled marlin is exquisite! I've also had the best naan here I've ever eaten.
Yesterday, I ran into a woman and her friend that I originally met in Tiru, the one with the Seattle and poly community ties. I played frisbee and hung out on the beach today with a lesbian couple that recognized me from Amma's ashram. Both stopped by our table tonight at dinner to chat. It's amazing, I've been in town less than three days and have friends here.
This trip just keeps unfolding and evolving in such inspiring and enlightening and nourishing ways. I am so blessed to be able to experience it and also share it with people as I go.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Happy New Year! 31 December 2008
Oh my, I never considered that I'd still be in India at the beginning of 2009. It's taking a bit to get my brain around this fact. What an auspicious way to start the year! Yes, world travel is my present and my future. It feels really good.
At this time of new beginnings, may we all look at what we cherish about our lives and look for opportunities to expand and deepen into them.
Hari Om!
At this time of new beginnings, may we all look at what we cherish about our lives and look for opportunities to expand and deepen into them.
Hari Om!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Merry Christmas! 25 December 2008
Merry Christmas to All! Happy Whatever You Celebrate to All!
To borrow from my friend, Jordi, my heart is too full of the Now to write much. Not much room for past or future. I'll try though, because I'm a writer and that's what I do.
I'm well. I'm happy. I'm also miserable, sometimes at the same time. I cycle through many extremes repeatedly in one day. It's like my consciousness is a honeycomb, with all these compartments of stories and emotions and I can get lost or bask in any one of them, or move through lots of them at blazing speeds in succession, or experience myself as the comb itself and be aware of all of them and/or none of them at the same time.
This study in contrasts that is India? It's really Me. All at the same time. So, if you can think it, I'm probably feeling it.
The details seem trivial on one level and not on another. For example, I was the next to last person to receive darshan from Amma this morning, around 1:30am. Christmas morning. I got to rest in her arms while she talked to an attendent. That alone was exquisite, but it also meant I was on stage for Aarti, the celebration of Her as Divine. I received some of Her milk as prassad. That was just one very quick event in a day that felt like a month with major, consciousness-shaking events, one after the other.
Amma had been giving darshan for 15 hours and I didn't want to go. I didn't want to extend her day any longer than it had already been. I noticed the door was closed so I just decided I'd get darshan today. The Voice disagreed. An argument with The Voice ensued.
"Get Darshan."
No, Amma's tired, I'm going to let her rest.
"Get Darshan."
NO. The door is closed, it's too late.
"Get Darshan."
No.
"They will let you in, if you ask."
No. It's too late. All those people are lined up to get names and mantras and they've been waiting a long time. I'm totally happy not getting darshan tonight.
"It's after midnight; it's Christmas. Get Darshan."
NO. She's hugged enough people today. I'll get darshan tomorrow. It will still be Christmas.
"COME GET DARSHAN!"
No, ... Then, much to my surprise, my feet were carrying me up the ramp and I am in a group of three that are requesting darshan at the last moment. The doorkeeper has a five minute, multi-segmented, door opening and closing, heated discussion through a crack in the door with some unseen person on the inside in a language I can't understand.
All of a sudden, the door opens all the way and we're rapidly shoved in front of Amma. Within 1 minute, I'm on my knees in her lap.
No, not trivial, but yes, in a way it is. Does any of it really matter?
To close, I'll borrow from Amma's Christmas 2008 message.
Go forth and Be the Light of Christ in the world.
Merry Christmas, All!
To borrow from my friend, Jordi, my heart is too full of the Now to write much. Not much room for past or future. I'll try though, because I'm a writer and that's what I do.
I'm well. I'm happy. I'm also miserable, sometimes at the same time. I cycle through many extremes repeatedly in one day. It's like my consciousness is a honeycomb, with all these compartments of stories and emotions and I can get lost or bask in any one of them, or move through lots of them at blazing speeds in succession, or experience myself as the comb itself and be aware of all of them and/or none of them at the same time.
This study in contrasts that is India? It's really Me. All at the same time. So, if you can think it, I'm probably feeling it.
The details seem trivial on one level and not on another. For example, I was the next to last person to receive darshan from Amma this morning, around 1:30am. Christmas morning. I got to rest in her arms while she talked to an attendent. That alone was exquisite, but it also meant I was on stage for Aarti, the celebration of Her as Divine. I received some of Her milk as prassad. That was just one very quick event in a day that felt like a month with major, consciousness-shaking events, one after the other.
Amma had been giving darshan for 15 hours and I didn't want to go. I didn't want to extend her day any longer than it had already been. I noticed the door was closed so I just decided I'd get darshan today. The Voice disagreed. An argument with The Voice ensued.
"Get Darshan."
No, Amma's tired, I'm going to let her rest.
"Get Darshan."
NO. The door is closed, it's too late.
"Get Darshan."
No.
"They will let you in, if you ask."
No. It's too late. All those people are lined up to get names and mantras and they've been waiting a long time. I'm totally happy not getting darshan tonight.
"It's after midnight; it's Christmas. Get Darshan."
NO. She's hugged enough people today. I'll get darshan tomorrow. It will still be Christmas.
"COME GET DARSHAN!"
No, ... Then, much to my surprise, my feet were carrying me up the ramp and I am in a group of three that are requesting darshan at the last moment. The doorkeeper has a five minute, multi-segmented, door opening and closing, heated discussion through a crack in the door with some unseen person on the inside in a language I can't understand.
All of a sudden, the door opens all the way and we're rapidly shoved in front of Amma. Within 1 minute, I'm on my knees in her lap.
No, not trivial, but yes, in a way it is. Does any of it really matter?
To close, I'll borrow from Amma's Christmas 2008 message.
Go forth and Be the Light of Christ in the world.
Merry Christmas, All!
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