dear friends

This is really going to be more of a personal letter. My official blogging has not been going well. I've had enormous technical issues that have taken up an inordinate amount of my travel time. Has it been a waste? I no longer have any sense of what we're supposed to be doing with this life we've been given. I'm learning a lot, so does it matter whether I'm in some grubby computer store or cybercafe or at my desk getting nowhere? Should I be seeing more temples, getting out more, doing more yoga, less yoga, spending more money, less money? I have no answers, I have no plan.

Warning - the past couple days have been rough. I'm not ready to give up and I'm changing direction totally, right after writing this. This is where I'm at in this moment. But do realize I'm writing from a dark place and as it changes, as it will, I may or may not be able to be much in touch, either technically, geographically or depending on what kind of program I'm doing. So don't worry about me dear friends. If I get in any bad situations or need help, I won't hesitate to ask. So please no worries on my behalf. I'm being taken care of.

So in terms of events and travels, I haven't written (or rather I have but haven't had the time for the uploading machinations) about the international yoga festival which briefly was a joke. The superficializing of the profound. The politicizing and marketing of the spiritual. I stayed at a luxury ashram, luxury from the outside, the rooms were disgusting pits and mostly I was pretty deeply depressed by the commercialization and westernization of yoga. One guided meditation was just ridiculous psycho-babble (by the guru's right hand girl, a Stanford grad who's renunciated her past life to live in some bizarre bubble here - note to self!) I got the dreaded food poisoning, but actually it was a relief just to spend time in bed. There was one great teacher, the one sent from the Iyengar school, and by the end I wasn't participating in anything other than his class. In typical Marcie fashion I took everything too hard and too seriously, feeling devastated by what I was witnessing. I have to say, I honestly don't know what my problem is. I'm not always rolling with the punches. In Breema terms, it's important to have acceptance, but at this moment I'm questioning my basic functionality in life and can't see that acceptance alone is going to help.

I'm having a hard time. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

So anyhow, I was delighted to come back to Haridwar. Again I haven't written (or it remains not uploaded) about the extent to which I'd become involved in Kaushal's life. Amazing experience. Welcomed, taken into his family, his community. My back's getting better, my yoga and meditation better. He's helping me with everything to do with Indian life, his wife loves having me over, his son calls me Auntie. He and his friends are good people, Indian style; there's a lot of heartfulness expressed here especially from the men. Kaushal and his friends are kind, compassionate and intelligent. Amongst this group I've only been welcomed and included, no one's trying to get anything from me. This is the educated, but traditional middle class. When I'm invited along on a journey, I'm not allowed to open my wallet. I have to fight with Kaushal in order to pay him for a private yoga class. It's all so exciting and such an adventure. But can I trust what's happening?

When Kaushal and his friend Shahji came to pick up me up from the yoga fest, I was so happy and relieved to see them. And unbeknownst to me, we were on the way to meet a real Himalayan guru. Real or not, I can't evaluate, he only speaks Hindi, but the energy was great. I felt like I was back in the real India and I felt my optimism rising again.

Guess what folks? Too good to be true is very probably not true. Due to the Indian holiday of Holi, it was decided that I should stay in the luxury hotel where I'd first stayed, where the general manager, Krishnan, is my friend and where I first met Kaushal. I hope to write more on Holi later but it's primarily a water balloon, paint holiday and I didn't feel like getting trashed, though it was fun watching from the roof. Fun also to see the newspaper pictures of all the politicians covered in Holi paint - how to prove you're one of the people.

Krishnan had not realized I'd gotten so involved with Kaushal and his friends and he spent the next 3 evenings giving my the lay of the land. Bit by devastating bit, I'm getting the picture. Not that Kaushal's done anything wrong or hurt me in any way whatsoever, but I'm torn apart by my own life and decision making and what I catch and what I miss and just not understanding why I am the way I am. What I've finally put together is that Kaushal essentially is a repeat of Russell, for those of you who remember my first husband. Kaushal is considered a magic man - his skills, his understanding, everyone acknowledges that Kaushal can do anything and he's loved by many. That said, apparently, and I never saw this, he can't function not on grass, as they call it here, and his life is in a shambles and he's the leader of a rag tag group of friends. Really lovely people, again no one denies that, and lovely on the level of being honest and generous with each other, and acting with integrity, but high levels of drug and alcohol use and perhaps the only intelligent one is Kaushal. A bunch of Indian middle class losers.

So Kaushal fed me a dream - of who he was and what he's doing, and the thing is, I think he totally believes it. He has a very high level of self-delusion but it's not based on nothing. He really heals people, when he bothers to work with anyone, which apparently he doesn't do much, though he was always there for me. His astrological forecasting is widely respected, with politicians and lots of rich people calling him from all over India, but he doesn't ask for money and he's totally unstructured and unorganized and not doing a good job of caring for his family. In fact, his real family, who are apparently multi-millionaires, kicked him out giving him an unfinished house as a final gesture. As someone tried to explain to me, he's unable to be serious in his own life.

I'm shattered, but it has actually little to do with Kaushal and all to do with me. For one thing I let myself get completely dependent on him and as I'm getting back into India I find in fact I don't like being a woman alone here at all. Yesterday I walked to this temple and even the monkeys were threatening. I bought some prasad realizing it is the proper thing to do when visiting a temple and a monkey had taken it from me in less than 20 seconds. But yesterday was a low, low, low day for me and anything would've and did make me miserable. Last night was when I came to clarity on this whole thing and today I'm starting over. But I'm sad. For one thing, Kaushal is a lovely person and in terms of my actual experiences with him, I'm very sad to lose the fantasy too. It probably didn't have much more life in it anyhow, cracks had begun, but best out immediately. Which I have not always done, but now I am.

SO - here I am, realizing I don't really understand anything about India, but the killer being that I don't understand anything about me. I can't help but wonder if I attract all these brilliant and dysfunctional people because I am the same? What am I doing here? Why can't I simply find a job and make it work? What is wrong with me? Should I give up and come home, but what will I do? Work at Rainbow? Live in a shared house? Do I think there's anything wrong with that? Today I'm forcing myself out of bed because I think it's time for me to deal with life a little differently. How long can I be so naive? Why can I see somethings so clearly (I was talking with Krishnan about the yoga festival and he summed up what's happening so beautifully, he called it all - shockingly shit)and then just pull in the same personality traits over and over and over again? I fell for something here and I'm not even clear what 'cause I only saw the good side. The dark sides of Kaushal I've had to take on faith, but the clues are all over the place. That said, Kaushal never took anything from me, never hurt me, was only there, there, there and deeply so. But at this moment, as the tears are coming - I can only keep repeating to myself, what the fuck is wrong with me? Right now, I'm deep in being lost.

But soon I'm going online and I have good recommedations for a very nice ashram with a very nice program, the one I mentioned in my blog about Cristian. I have some other plans (I think a Himalayan trek is called for) and I'm giving myself some time. A part of me wants to race back home, but even just in writing this, I'm getting the first glimmer that hopefully this can be, wiil be useful. So far I've just been relentlessly critical of myself. But, as they say, it's always darkest before the dawn. I hate India - and I love it. There are possibilities here that I don't feel back at the home. But there's a lot of shit to wade through, both externally and internally, and there's no escape. I think I'll stay just one more day in this nice hotel!

I've taken the risk just to lay it all out there. Please friends, don't worry about me. All is well. There's a process happening that I just don't understand yet. But it's leading me in the direction of wishing to be productive and responsible, but somehow without giving up my quest for God. Wouldn't it be funny if it's India that helps me to be less woo-woo and more practical and grounded? And with each time I do this, the situations get less emotionally damaging, shorter lasting and an increased commitment to go more slowly, look ever more carefully. I wish I could beat some understanding and maturity into myself, but I promise to do the best I can. I'm rising up again already.

I love you all and miss you,
marcie