Chitti Vrittis

Hello again from India! (That never gets old, I tell ya.) I'm back at Rishi's internet cafe, wishing I could include a couple of pics for you this time around, but poor Rajini (the woman who owns the place) just has the slowest internet in the world. Next time, I'll post this from Anu's so I can get some up for you. In the meantime, imagine that you are viewing pictures from my day at the park yesterday--we found one with a lake!--which include peacocks in trees, serene water with couples and families in row boats, a butterfly garden, flowers, and of course, Liz and I's smiling faces.

Chitti vritti #1: I find it amusing that during meditation I can easily drown out the sounds of barking dogs, passing traffic, women sweeping or hosing off their driveways (about which they are meticulous!), men on bikes selling fruits, singing "Mango! Pineapple! Papaya!" and the clanking of neighbors dishes and dinners being cooked...yet it's nearly impossible to quiet my mind. And it's not like the thoughts are deep or contain profound insight on the meaning of life. It's more like, "Liz had a good idea to mark our clothespins with little hearts, but too bad they still get mixed in with the neighbors," or "that's nice that people leave veggie/fruit scraps on corners for wandering animals, but I wonder if it causes animal drama? I can hear the cows now, 'damn goats, they got here early today'." In the yoga sutras, these fluctuations of the mind are called "chitti vrittis," and the point of our practice, as stated in the first yoga sutra "...yoga chitti vritti nirodaha," is to turn off those thoughts. So I'll keep workin' on that. Guess it's a good thing I'm in India.

Chitti vritti #2: I saw a man scale a coconut tree the other day. The tree was at least four to five stories high. And he did it so fast! Crazy.

CV #17: In the last week, I've been to two pujas (Indians love their pujas!), for two great teachers who have influenced so many lives. The first was for PK Jois to honor his passing, and celebrate the gifts of love and knowledge he passed along while he was here on earth. I joined his family, friends, community members, Brahmins, spiritual leaders, and yogis from around the world in his shala to gather once again in his honor. In amazement, I watched as people from around the world--people of different backgrounds, ethnicities, religions, political positions, races, genders, etc--joined together through yoga and shared belief in the possibility of knowing peace, love, connectedness. No, we didn't come together to celebrate our flexible hamstrings, waistline measurements, or the strength of our biceps. We came together because we share this love, this life, these moments. Even though many of us look different, speak different languages, and come from far off places, we all seek to feel, experience, and extend that which is good and loving. We know that those things don't just take place in some spiritual realm, but occur right here on earth. So we joined and celebrated Guruji, each other, and this life we share. We sat peacefully together and extended smiles and expressions of thanks and grattitude for being part of this world. I know I've said this before, but I'm still trying to figure out what I did to deserve this incredible life. There is so much good, so much love. I am so blessed to be able to exist in this beautiful world, with my friends, family, with all of you...

CV #27a: The second puja was for my teacher, Ajay. Amazing, fantastic--and dare I say--adorable, Ajay (and yes I will post a pic soon!). He and his wife were celebrating their housewarming and invited all of us to attend. Under a colorful tent in the front of his house, we ate, laughed, talked, and enjoyed a really special afternoon. It felt like such a gift to see his home, meet some of his friends and family, and see our friends from the shala outside of our regular sweaty, groaning and panting practice. We had one of my favorite meals so far (have I mentioned the food in this country?!), which we ate off of banana leaves with our hands, as most often do here. And yes, I now eat with my hands whenever possible. (Sorry mom.)

CV #161: Kids are really well behaved here. Americans would be shocked at how happy they are, while actually listening to their parents. Between you and I, I think it's in part due to the fact that they're allowed to eat with their hands, and don't have to deal with adults yelling at them to not play with their food. And they're allowed to get dirty. And run around outside and scream from time to time. Imagine that! The only time kids in India seem to cry or yell really loudly is when it's time for Liz and I to go to bed.

CV #169: Get this! I have been reading books that have not been assigned by professors, are for use in research projects, thesis developments, or paper citations. I'm reading fiction even! Just because I can, as soon as I finish this book (The Witch of Portabello, which is really good so far), I'm going to forget the entire thing without being able to tell you the main points or much of the story at all. Pure pleasure reading. I love India!

CV #192: Today I started washing my purple tyedye skirt and then forgot about it, so it sat in the bucket all day. When we got home the water was completely purple. Does this mean that when the dye washed out that it also simultaneously redyed itself? Hmm. Also, Indian clothes are NOT prewashed (and that salt-soak idea does not work, thank you), so most of my clothes now vary between similar shades of blue, green, brown, and red. But it kinda makes some of these old t-shirts feel new.

CV #287: There is this bird that makes woo-woo noises. For the first few days I was here I thought it was some siren or something, but it just goes "woo woo woo woo woo!" It gets up around the time we have our 430am coffee, and greets the day with us. Cutest bird ever. Although maybe not, because I've never actually seen it. But Liz says it's a bird. I suppose it's possible that she's messing with me, and in the distance somewhere is a man with a little siren sounding it every morning, as he and Liz laugh to themselves.

CV #590: Persad, the coconut stand man, is not only good at picking out the "crunchy coconuts," but just so happens to make the best peanut butter ever known to human kind, and his almond butter is just as amazing. Oh, and I'm also now obsessed with mangoes, and average at least two per day. You've never tasted heaven like this, I tell ya. And Liz has become excellent at haggling with the guys on bikes ("Mango! Papaya!") selling 'em. 6 mangoes, 40 rupees. Go girl.

CV #811-10,994: As you can tell, life in Mysore is pretty much the same. I've got yoga bruises all over my body, which I wear like badges of honor, because I'm working my ass off, and loving every minute of it. Except of course, when I'm fighting it, in pain, or crying after backbends (as Liz and I have both come to realize, backbends are often very emotional. But it's ok because we giggle in other poses so it all evens out). I'm getting acupuncture for my carpal tunnel and hoping to get some relief soon (imagine!). I also got some for my sciatic pain from when I fell down the stairs last week in the rain (sigh). Band practice is of course still going, and the Dirty Scooter Crew (that's us!) will have their tour dates up soon. Oh, and speaking of badges of honor--"I've got blisters on my fingers!" which is quite exciting. And we're not the only musicians in town, as there is a marching band that we frequently hear from afar during school hours. I've picked up the Indian head wobble, which now comes out each time I answer a yes or no question, or as Liz pointed out, whenever I do or say something for which I feel proud. Liz and I are trying to get out of Mysore on weekends and take some day trips, so last week we visited Bylakuppe, a small town of Buddhist monks who fled Tibet. The monasteries and temples are exquisite. We saw some monks chanting, some praying, some outside diong laundry, others weaving or working on various art projects. In one temple, four monks were creating an intricate and colorfully elaborate mandala of dyed sands, which they later take outside and set free into the wind. What a beautiful process. Just as beautiful were the monks on the motorcycles--the one on back using his cell phone. On other afternoons, Liz continues to plan our travels while I plot ways to get a year's supply of the chocolate man's coffee and jaggary back to the states. We laugh constantly, and do a lot of nothing, which really takes up a lot of our day. We cook a lot of food at home these days, and that's been nice, though tonight we're going out for a big ol' dinner because--well, we can. Have I mentioned that this is the best food in the entire world? I'm not sure how I'll ever live without it, but not thinking too seriously about it, since it's not my concern yet.

CV #26,028: Liz is the best friend in the world. I'm so thankful to her for all of these moments, and all that she is. She is beautiful, wise, funny, strong, and incredible. Her heart is so precious, and her soul so kind. I couldn't imagine doing this trip without her. The best non-sexual-life-partner (NSLP) a girl could have. Again, I don't know how I got so lucky.

CV #139,816: I'm eternally grateful for each one of you out there. And though I would stay here forever if I could, I can't wait to see your beautiful faces again.

CV #139,817: As long as when I get home you give me some time before you ask me what I'm going to do "next" or "with my life."

CV #139,818: And if you just can't help yourself, all I've solidly come up with is: be happy. And maybe shower more. Maybe.