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| Socrates having a little lie down. Knowing Himself. |
“Yoga is a western thing," declares Jamie the Hawaiian yoga
teacher who works in Singapore. “No Indians do it. Westerners have revived it
for Indians. If you wanna come here and find God but reject your own religion
and home, and wanna chant Ganesastavah and read Hindu stories to your
kids then go right ahead, but Indians see through it. It’s western yoga
students who are reviving interest in Sanskrit here.”
I’m so glad someone put it as succinctly as that. And so endeth a big lesson for me. At some level I had secretly hoped I might find some authentic, historical 'yoga-dust' magic and somehow have it absorbed into my muscles so I can spring beautifully from dog pose into crow like my very elegant American friend Ross, but unfortunately, not so. I found some grains of magic, for sure but not 'out there'. None of my Indian friends here do yoga, they think we're all a bit mad but respect it like only Indians can truly understand and appreciate madness. 'Just go practise' is my mantra, and goes much, much deeper now. It's not romantic, magic, nor soppy (perfect for this no-nonsense Saggitarian) and to a newcomer it might not mean much. Changing the context of how and where I practise yoga has had great value. In fact the yoga was the easy part - the bit where I actually knew what I was doing.
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| En route to Bandipur NP |
I’ve been going to classes with other yogis to chant the Pantajali sutras in Sanskrit with Dr Jayashree, a fantastic, warm woman who's memory is astounding. This is followed by a talk about aspects of philosophy with her brother/cousin Professor Narasimhan who offers to teach us transcendental meditation. The Professor is a real bona fide philosopher. This guy has answers to questions I didn't even know I had. He draws knowledge from all over the place, psychotherapy, science research, physics, biology, music, Christian scriptures, Indian thought, history, factual stuff, not mamby pamby stuff. In the few days I've been listening to him, some big pieces have been falling into place for me about links to what we are doing in asana, to our mental health, growth and well being, to Indian culture, literature and thought.
I hung back and filled out the form, you know: Why Are You Here, tick the boxes etc. When it's my turn to come back in for the one-on-one interview to get my mantra for meditation, the Professor looks up from my form and says:
‘Spiritual growth. Why do you want 'spiritual growth'?' referring to the boxes I've ticked. I'm surprised that he's surprised. Is this a trick question? But then I remember - his whole thing is ‘Don’t seek knowledge without knowing why you want it.’ Striking right at the heart of my tendency to immediately question and doubt things I don't understand. The Professor has a sense of humour, but not for smart asses, unfortunately. My skills in this area are not required. I remain quiet and unable to say why spiritual growth is a good idea. I'm at the end of my trip and I'm at a loss for words. (I know, right.) I've met another match.
He looked at me more closely, in a small book-lined room lit with the ever present fluorescent lighting.
I hung back and filled out the form, you know: Why Are You Here, tick the boxes etc. When it's my turn to come back in for the one-on-one interview to get my mantra for meditation, the Professor looks up from my form and says:
‘Spiritual growth. Why do you want 'spiritual growth'?' referring to the boxes I've ticked. I'm surprised that he's surprised. Is this a trick question? But then I remember - his whole thing is ‘Don’t seek knowledge without knowing why you want it.’ Striking right at the heart of my tendency to immediately question and doubt things I don't understand. The Professor has a sense of humour, but not for smart asses, unfortunately. My skills in this area are not required. I remain quiet and unable to say why spiritual growth is a good idea. I'm at the end of my trip and I'm at a loss for words. (I know, right.) I've met another match.
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| Best towel art. ever. Housekeeper A ++ |
‘Don’t you know yourself?’ he asked softly and a little
sadly. But he need not worry.
“Oh, yes. I know myself pretty well.” I reassure him, relieved and smiling right back into his big brown eyes. Warts and all. I’m not here for counselling. I’m
not lost. I’m not searching. I’m just
here. And I'm ready to go home.
"A little homesick?' he asks. Yes, I nod quietly. I'm done with India, frankly. Or India is done with me.
"You go back and you will want this again," and I know he is right. "How you say, you want the grass on the other side, that's just how we humans are," he chuckles.
We relax, the Professor puts the form down and we sit together. We've performed puja to his guru offering flowers, incense and fruit and we settle down. He gives me my mantra for meditation to help to 'go in' more. And the thing about the mantra, is that you don't tell anyone what it is, you don't write it down. It's his gift to us and it too will change as we use it - the sound changes, form, pronunciation, tone and volume. Nothing is fixed.
Going to Mysore gave me 3 levels of knowledge - the stuff I went there to find out, the stuff was shown by others whether I wanted it or not, and the knowledge that is popping up inside me without knowing how. This is the value of travelling, I think. All that we think we know is cast aside and it's hard to be vulnerable in full view of everyone in customs, with the 'one-way street' cops, in the coffee shop, at the Tiger Reserve without tigers, on stage in the big Shala. But honestly, others don't care as much as we do. Everyone is just focused on themselves. I think we'd be less fearful and racist as a country if we travelled more to places other than Bali.
Now back in the cold winter of South Australia, I'm still coming home, and it's taking some time. My body and brain are readjusting. Things I once appreciated somehow aren't as good as I remember like Facebook, being cold and relentless violent news updates. Other things are better - a thoughtful friend leaving food by my front door, a washing machine that works and winter sun. Nothing is fixed. Our ideas of who we are, what we are capable of or ideas of 'home'.
Thanks for reading this blog and for your love and support. I needed it. You are the chocolate sprinkles on my cappuccino, without argument. (And if you know how hard that is to get in India, then you know how much this means.)
Om Asato Maa Sad-Gamaya
(Oh Lord keep me from unreality and in reality of eternal self)
Tamaso Maa Jyotir-Gamaya(keep me from darkness and towards light)
Mrtyor-Maa Amrtam Gamaya
(keep me from fear of death, and towards self-knowledge)
Om Shaantih Shaantih Shaantih
(Peace, peace and chocolate sprinkles. I'm pretty sure.)
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"A little homesick?' he asks. Yes, I nod quietly. I'm done with India, frankly. Or India is done with me.
"You go back and you will want this again," and I know he is right. "How you say, you want the grass on the other side, that's just how we humans are," he chuckles.
We relax, the Professor puts the form down and we sit together. We've performed puja to his guru offering flowers, incense and fruit and we settle down. He gives me my mantra for meditation to help to 'go in' more. And the thing about the mantra, is that you don't tell anyone what it is, you don't write it down. It's his gift to us and it too will change as we use it - the sound changes, form, pronunciation, tone and volume. Nothing is fixed.
Going to Mysore gave me 3 levels of knowledge - the stuff I went there to find out, the stuff was shown by others whether I wanted it or not, and the knowledge that is popping up inside me without knowing how. This is the value of travelling, I think. All that we think we know is cast aside and it's hard to be vulnerable in full view of everyone in customs, with the 'one-way street' cops, in the coffee shop, at the Tiger Reserve without tigers, on stage in the big Shala. But honestly, others don't care as much as we do. Everyone is just focused on themselves. I think we'd be less fearful and racist as a country if we travelled more to places other than Bali.
Now back in the cold winter of South Australia, I'm still coming home, and it's taking some time. My body and brain are readjusting. Things I once appreciated somehow aren't as good as I remember like Facebook, being cold and relentless violent news updates. Other things are better - a thoughtful friend leaving food by my front door, a washing machine that works and winter sun. Nothing is fixed. Our ideas of who we are, what we are capable of or ideas of 'home'.
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Om Asato Maa Sad-Gamaya
(Oh Lord keep me from unreality and in reality of eternal self)
Tamaso Maa Jyotir-Gamaya(keep me from darkness and towards light)
Mrtyor-Maa Amrtam Gamaya
(keep me from fear of death, and towards self-knowledge)
Om Shaantih Shaantih Shaantih
(Peace, peace and chocolate sprinkles. I'm pretty sure.)
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| Happy elephants. |
