living life on a bed

I came back from my trip to Himachal happy but tired. Not a moment was spent without people and I was very ready to get back to some quiet and my practice. It was great to see Kaushal again and he helped me get set up back in the ashram where I'd stayed before. What a different experience now with a few months in India behind me. In my enthusiasm for the ashram experience I hadn't noticed how filthy the place was, how ill cared for and how uncomfortable. This ashram was funded by a very rich and miserly Malaysian woman for her guru. She spared no expense in making a beautiful building and then resented every further rupee she had to pay. So it was staffed by poorly paid teenage boys who, if they knew rugs needed cleaning, didn't care. Every step I took sent nasty things into the air and I felt sick when I tried to do yoga. But I was a trooper and stayed until I did get sick with a bad cold in which I gave in to my well wishers and tried allopathics but the best I can say is that they were no help. Now I have a new tirade which goes something like this - India created Ayurveda, what the hell is going on with this allopathic bullshit, but anyone who knows me, can well imagine. Enough said.

Ashram hunting. First it's hard to get a room. Haridwar is a holy city and summer is pilgrim time. The best places are mostly booked. A lengthy search placed me in ashram #2 which was run down and depressing, but clean enough. The grounds were nice but I only entered the dining room once and had to turn right around after feeling the dirty floor under my barefeet. I managed a week, but was delighted when Kaushal said he was going to his favorite Himalayan place and did I want to come?

Oh, the mountains. I'm missing them so much as I sit in the heat of this cybercafe because my computer's broken for the 15th time. We took a quick but great trip to this very special place with an ancient Lord Shiva temple and then continued up to the mountaintop which has a spectacular 360 degree view of the Himalayas. We couldn't see anything, however, because it's fire season and the smoke was too thick. Yet another sad story involving global warming, lack of firefighting resources, loss of precious few remaining forests and so on. The mountain men of these places are heartbroken, but how can anyone not be when we see what we're doing to the planet? Nonetheless for me it was a powerful and life changing experience. When I first saw the temple I just spontaneously burst into tears and I still can't explain it, except to say something's happening for me here and I'm exploring it, fully.

Came back and a room at a beautiful ashram along a beautiful stretch of the Ganga was available. Lucky me! I settled in. But the growing difficulty in ashram life is the food. They offer all the chapati, rice and dhal you want, but there's no guarantee of actual pulse in the dhal. Often it's just a soup, jokingly referred to as prison food. What they call vegetables, when available, is usually some potato pieces with a hint of something green on rare occasions. But the worse thing is the color. Variations in yellows to browns, tonally representing the least appetizing colors that exist. Haridwar, however, has no restaurants, or at least no good ones, though I'm happy to say I've found some that are almost mediocre, but not always convenient. I spent a lot of time in the heat walking back and forth to Kaushal's house so Sonia could feed me and then I'd take Bhava on walks. This was actually not bad for me. Mornings I'd do some practice and then things would just happen, as they do in India. I was not delighted when I got kicked out. The ashram was having a big program and I got a morning's notice to pack my bags and get out. The only smile I ever got from the ashram manager was when I promptly paid in full.

Once again, Kaushal steps in to take responsibility for my living situation. He's working as fast as possible on the house, but it's not ready for me to move in. He has some friends coming from Delhi to stay at a nearby forest guest house so he adds me into the plans. Nice place but hot, hot, hot and as usual I'm unaware of what's actually happening. He's bouncing back and forth between 3 different situations, his Delhi friends, a family of clients who need healing, advice, astrology and gem purchasing and me, who doesn't get the complete picture until it's already past and I'm in the next confused state.

Which is that now we're leaving the forest and looking for ashram #4 for me. Kaushal's yet again pulled out a miracle and talked to the head of a big yoga university to get me a place at their famous and historical ashram. We get there at 3 and sit with the university head for what feels like an hour before he decides to talk to someone about my room. At which point we find out in fact a room is not available and I've not eaten yet today. Suffice it to say, this is not one of my finest moments considering that Kaushal's been working his ass off to find me something, anything and the whole client family is driving me around in their SUV.

I cooly and politely decide enough of the fucking ashrams and their fucking food. It's time for a hotel. Fuck the money, fuck everything and what about lunch?

The next 3 days find me unmoving from the luxury of my air-conditioned hotel room. I really did enjoy every minute of it, but I am now living in India and I can't afford to be spending $50/day on lodgings. Kaushal comes through again and asks a friend of his if I can live in his family's house.

Thus begins an amazing adventure in Indian culture. I have been staying with the Saini family for almost a month now and it has been one of the most difficult and incredible and uneventful and mind blowing experiences of my life. I have to immediately mention Shalini, the 19 yr old brilliant daughter who will no doubt be a friend for life. I live in her room, share her bed and we talk and play and laugh and cry and she's a dear one. Plus the sexiest dancer I've ever seen in my life and she's taught me some moves, though mostly we just laugh hysterically - at me, of course. She says I'm a very good beginner, but that's after she's fallen on the floor saying I look like a duck. Could be worse!

Shalini's had some issues with her family and is mostly confined to the house, meaning her room, meaning her bed. That's mostly where I live too - I sleep, eat, exercise, meditate, nap and do my computer work there. I've never lived on a bed before. I spend hours talking to her on the bed and then Vishal, her brother, will come in to use the computer and we'll talk and his friends will come and go and Shalini will leave and come back but I never leave the bed. At other friend's houses I play with the children on the bed, but yesterday I nearly killed a 3 yr old by standing on the bed and lifting him high into the air, a mere inch from a rapidly whirring fan. Even living on a bed there's safety concerns!

This has been a hard period to know what to say. Basically I'm facing myself. Everything has been stripped away. There's nothing I need to do. There's no way to escape myself. There's not even the comfort of unconscious cultural norms. I desperately want to start on my practice but the reality of no privacy is constant interruptions. Calling it Shalini's room is not quite right because there's no such thing in India. Everything is everyone's, including all my belongings. Shalini has the only mirror in the house, so people are coming and going 24/7. That's not an exaggeration, many events don't start until 11 and go all night.

How to express the extreme gratitude I have for this family and still talk of my suffering? And what is my suffering? On my birthday, a day in which every single plan I'd made fell through, I took a walk along the Ganga and thought what is wrong with me? I have health, wealth, love, friendship, support, adventure and I'm being called by God. I'm miserable because the day didn't go as I'd expected? I'm blaming India?

Facing myself, lying on a bed. Moment by moment, despair, exhilaration. Yesterday there was a big poojah that I thought the priest had said was for me, but in fact I was only watching. I sat there, very upset and very disappointed because I'd been looking forward to this for weeks. Suddenly I catch my negativity - like a shock. I see it's not a fact but an interpretation. I think - can I be here and relax and enjoy, the 2 main themes of Indian life. On my birthday my friend Rashmi explained to me that there isn't much disappointment in India. When something changes, it's because it's changing for the better. I've been thinking about that long and hard ever since. I sat at the puja and started to have well wishing for the family that it was actually for. I had gratitude that I was getting to watch. I realized I didn't understand anything and it probably would've been wasted on me anyhow. I realize my direction is meditation, not chasing pujas. And then the question came so clearly and keeps reverberating - why be negative? why be negative?

The other day, in another low moment, I was complaining to Kaushal that in the 5 months I've been in India I've spent 3 of them with computer problems and the other 2 doing nothing. Today I saw I'm a different person. My health is better, my body opening up in ways unimaginable before I came - and I haven't even properly started my yoga training. I'm learning to relax and enjoy. After a decade of Breema talking about being present and me saying - how, how, how and learning to be content with a moment here or there, now I'm remembering. The moment is. I am. My dreams are being fulfilled. But in this moment. In this moment when I can finally let go of the relentless thought - I should be doing something. I should be doing something different, something else, I'm not being productive. What the hell is productive? Stress?

The other day I caught another long established thought and I realized that whatever I'm doing, I think I should be doing something else. WOW!

No wonder this facing myself is painful. I have time to see the thoughts as they arise and to question them. Over and over I examine my thinking and see that's it's not so. And further, I don't know what is so. But I can relax and enjoy.

Speaking of which, it's quite late now and time for me to return to the house. Tomorrow I go to Delhi and then to Nepal to renew my visa. This chapter's concluding, it is indeed time for me to leave the Saini's. Tonight I place the period, tomorrow I watch the page turn. What's next? Here I come, Kathmandu.