Let it be

As my trip begins to wind down, I'm faced with a potpourri of thoughts I want to share, but don't seem to make sense grouped together in written form. From the deepest of emotional spaces to the most surface-based observations, I have seen it all--and then nothing at all--and I don't really know where to begin. Some of the things I want to tell you about are nothing but random observations that occurred in random moments at random places with random people while having random conversations and seeing random things. Others are far more sentimental and emotional, which are difficult to put "out there" anyway; these have more to do with leaving India, fearing going home (to what?), moments of intense bliss or extreme sadness, spiritual discoveries, and what it's like to face yourself so intensely for nearly three months. Coupling paragraphs about the times "we yelled at the petrol and the rickshaw guys because they tried to charge us too much and we are not the stupid white girls we may appear to be!" with "I didn't know I'd come to India to find a second home, comfort, love, kindness--all while sharing these days with the greatest and most amazing friend I've ever had," just doesn't seem to jive well. But I suppose as usual, I'll do my best to work it out and see what happens.

First of course, this trip has been about yoga. I may have named myself a grateful yogi before, but I had no idea how deeply this gratitude could extend. My practice has led me to find new (and old) reasons to be thankful for my life, the people in it, and this world. I could spend at least an hour describing how it feels to have found strength and appreciation for a practice that I struggled so deeply with the first month I was here. I could spend another several hours rehashing the various emotions, awakenings, struggles, challenges, and feats I've faced on my mat in my shala. I now turn to my practice not just to connect to my breath and asana, but for guidance about gaining equanimity, embracing humility, and finding ways to build a greater sense of peace in my heart. Recently, I began practicing the intermediate (also known as "second") series of Ashtanga; Ajay started both Liz and I on it about two weeks ago, and as begin, I am forced to re-embrace a beginner's mindset, and am feeling new parts of my body, finding intense challenges, and even missing the primary series more than I ever imagined. I have fallen in love with Ashtanga more than I ever thought possible (though that has less to do with starting the intermediate sequence, and more to with the confidence and strength I've discovered in my mind and body). On a related note, as I find myself more and more grateful each day, I realize how lucky and blessed I am to have fallen in love with so much this year...

On a slightly lighter note, I wish I had the time to tell you all about our overnight trip to Sravanabelagola, a Jain pilgrimage site, where we climbed a hill to see one of the most beautiful temples and sights that we've seen since coming to India. At the top of the hill, a woman shared a holy coconut with us, and I think I actually saw heaven come up with the sun that morning.

Ancient temples made of stone and sand housed a giant sculpture of the God Gomatheswar, at the foot of which people meditated, recited prayers, and were blessed by holy men. Some men cleaned the feet of the statue, while a naked man with a feather duster brushed the ants off of the feet to help the God maintain purity and cleanliness. It was quite the trip, full of laughter, bliss, and odd occurrences: had chai on an old woman's stoop with her and watched as the town woke up with Hindi/Jain music blaring. We continued our tradition of being famous and met lots of people, kids (who kept asking for "school pens"), and women who helped maintain the local park-area. We shared a bus with a few sacks of chickens that clucked and balked for three hours--one rooster in fact, sat under our feet for the three hour ride. We tasted pista burfi (an Indian pistachio-flavored sweet) at various sweet-shop stands until we found our favorite. Once again we laughed our way through another trip, spending next to nothing for the guest house, food, treats, and amazing sights. God, I love it here.

To completely change the subject again, I figured it would be appropriate to note some other random Indian observations I've made and actually remembered to tell you. First has to do with timing of events: I know now that in Indian time, waiting for things for "5 minutes" or until "tomorrow" are entirely subjective and open to interpretation (5-minutes can be anywhere from "now" to 10 hours, and "tomorrow" often includes next week). I also realize that much of Indian signage, menus, banners, and billboards are printed or go up without having ever been spell checked, though rather than see this as a printer/creator's oversight, I find it more accurately non-wasteful and see it as a way to utilize what you have--why change something unnecessarily (I mean, we all know that "ladies tialars" is the ladies tailors and that the "sweet shoop and bakary" is a shop and bakery)? I will miss Babo hitting himself on the head and laughing at us when we do something silly or funny to him--which appears to not take much effort on our part--usually we just have to pull up on the scooty in the rain or eat breakfast with spoons. I don't think I'll ever fully be satisfied with another cup of coffee or cookie until I can return to the Chocolate Man's stand next year. I like that we take our shoes off to go into any building, business or home, even though I hardly ever wash my feet. Similarly, I've gotten better at handing things to people with my "clean" hand (the right hand) but think it's funny that this hand is also the one I eat with and therefore often have my fingers in my mouth. I'll miss Indian queueing, which, in the states, we would consider "skipping" but here makes perfect sense, for when you are ready to go to the front of the line, you simply do. I've also adopted a strange accent that kind of comes out as an odd British-Indian-slang with backwards verb tenses and odd inflections for emphasis (inflection changes upon asking/answering questions, making statements, jokes or greeting friends). Since coming here I've also surprised myself with certain things: it turns out that I do like beets, sesame seed candy, bats, ants, being a morning person, eating extraordinarily large lunches, wearing shawls even when it's hot as nuts, and driving on the left side of the road. I have come to see the sugar ants in my sugar as friends and merely scoop them out when I find them back again (silly ants), while the larger ants have become somewhat comforting--I don't mind that they crawl upon my bed, sink, and bathroom walls, for they are almost cute at this point, and I find that I'll actually miss them when I leave. Also, pulling little hairs out of my food is a small price to pay when it's always so tasty. I got excited when we had a mini-scooty accident the other day (don't worry we're ok, and it was so not my fault!) in front of a large group of people waiting for the neighborhood cow to be milked--it made me feel more Indian and I've even got a scrape and bruise to carry as a reminder. I like wearing bindis, loud colors, and shawls even when it's hot as balls. I love that we don't have air conditioning and miss that the power stays on longer these days. I love showering without curtains, though the hot water is still a little tricky. I enjoy sleeping under a mosquito net because it makes me feel like I am in a fort. And speaking of the fort, there is video to follow of that one....but alas, the Indian internet will not comply, so you'll have to wait on that one until I'm back in the US.

I'll do what I can to get you one more post before I leave, though the trip will shortly be coming to a close, and my final post might have not come up until I'm home. In the meantime, to you out there in your various countries and worlds, thank you for taking this journey with me in your own ways. To India, thank you for sharing your homes and communities and days with me and my best friend. I don't think either of us knew how much we needed this, and I know I can speak for both of us when I say that we will always love you, and will soon miss you with all our hearts.

All the random and sentimental love in the world,
Namaste,
R:)