2nd Edition

No one has to like absolutely EVERYTHING:

I have been instructed in meditation, yoga and pretty much any spiritual practice out there that not everything is for everyone. I strongly believe that people need to try all types out before they settle. Unless, miraculously, they walk into the exact right yoga class or start with the exact right type of meditation the very first shot; bravo to you.  I think when we find ourselves on the wrong path, it becomes obvious.  We become apathetic, we force ourselves, we speak negative words about, we dread whatever practice it is. This goes for work too. If we’re in the wrong career or wrong company, the same may apply. (Believe me, I know this one)  Just as some people absolutely swear by Bikram Yoga, and others couldn’t dread going into a 106 degree room more than anything else.  

The best thing is to be respectful, do your best and move on. The student will find their master as the master will find the student.  I say this because I’m pretty clear that the place where I’m at, is not my path.  It’s clearly the path for quite a few people here and enriching for some others and clearly not for others.  It’s interesting, to me, how polarizing I’ve seen the spiritual practice become.  I say, though, don’t give up hope. Don’t believe your first drink from the well is your last. Keep drinking.  We all find our path if we are looking with earnestness and passion.

I feel blessed, in this life, to have been struck deeply by a book I read when I was about 12.  A young white girl gets lost in the Australian Outback.  She remembers what one of her farm hands told her.  When someone gets lost, they start looking for landmarks. A tree, walks to it. A creek bed, walks to it.  A boulder, walks to it. The premise is, eventually one is walking the path of their family and will meet up with their family.  She does this, meets her ‘family’, and is safely brought ‘home’.  I have lived my life this way. One landmark after another.  Some may call it short sighted, some call it living in the moment.  I have rarely been able to answer the question of, “What’s your 5 year plan? What’s your 10 year plan?”  Seriously? I have no idea where I’m going to be. That rock has not appeared.  In the meantime, I will walk along this creek bed and revel in the river rock and the feel of the sand in between my toes.  I love living this way.  I generally am not thinking about 2 or 3 landmarks from now, just have my head up looking for the next one.  I have been able to live an extraordinary life this way. One I am generally proud of. 

May you all find your ‘family’.  May you find the melody that makes your heart sing and your soul find comfort. May you find home.

Panchakarma:

So, I’m feeling almost 100%. Dealing with a lingering cough and blowing my nose something fierce, still... But, I’ve got hope that this too shall pass, and soon.  

Since our last installment, I’ve experienced quite a bit in the PK.  I had a couple days of Shirodhara. This is when a continuous stream of warm oil is focused on the forehead/third eye area for an extended period of time. It’s a powerful experience. I found myself, at first, observing myself. I felt the oil, the smooth flow of it and then I started to relax. It was lovely. At one point, Sindul (my therapist) rubbed my forehead and it felt tingly and sensitive.  The last day of Shirodhara, I kept falling asleep and jerking and sleeping and jerking. It was funny. It was like being in a deep state of meditation and just going past the veil.  On each Shirodhara day, I would get Nasya. Nasal drops. I’ve been using an Ayurvedic trained friend of mine as a consultant because my therapist isn’t well enough versed in english for me to adequately get my answers of what’s this, what’s that, what does it do, so on and so forth. Nasya administers herbs and treatments quickly as there is a this barrier between the nose and the brain. 

Purgation day. Root word: Purge.  I went to the clinic and had to drink a cup of this herbal concoction. It was like very dense dirt, almost. Very spicy too. Then I was handed a kettle, told to go to my room, drink a cup of warm water every 10 minutes. Wait. Another man was walking around with his kettle at the same time, it was like a brotherhood symbol. We both knew what we were in for.  I went back to my room and within an hour, massively threw up my herbal concoction... oh yeah, pretty sure that wasn’t the aim. So, I walked my happy self back to the clinic, reported in. She said, keep drinking the water and if no bathroom, tomorrow we will try a different medicine. I think I was kind of cheating, because purge I did. I can’t even begin to imagine what my experience would have been had I not thrown up... yeah, messy.  Needless to say, I was pretty empty.  I used toilet and toilet paper for this experience, in case any of you lefty questioners were wondering!

Today, started the enema process. Let’s just say I’ve never had one, so I’m nervous right? I go in, and proceed to get a massage. The entire time all I can repeat instead of Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram is Enema, Enema, Enema, Enema... pretty sure NOT the healing message I was trying for with Ram, Ram, Ram. :) I was fixated, to say the very least!  So, after my usual daily massage and hot herbal compress tap down, THEN I got the treatment. “Little One, today,” she says, as she pours a large bowl of oil... Sweet, this means tomorrow I get a big one... can’t WAIT to see the size of that bowl.  All in all, it was an easy process and all is going well. 

Karma Yoga:

I’m starting to get into the swing of things as I feel like I can manage the PK, I’m not sick as a dog (how sick is a dog by the way?) and I am somewhat regulated, I guess. We do an hour of Karma Yoga a day, I have created a very symbiotic Karma yoga process. This lovely strong man from Manchester lugs these hugely heavy bins of produce waste, from the Health Hut, to the compost pile and I wash them out. Bravo. I feel like a participating member of Karma Yoga after struggling with how to get the massively huge bins to the compost pile as I am not a large and strong man... :)  I figure I’ll just be really getting into the swing of things as it’s time for me to leave the ashram and move on. 

Week 1

Week 1:

So, I really wish I could write my thoughts while lying awake at night. I think it would be rather entertaining and very complete. For now, we’ll have to go with what I think I remember...  

I've decided to write, as is, no real editing especially since (as you'll read) I seem to be on a bit of a power borrowing system... 

I have so many subjects to cover so I’ll go by topic of interest.

Getting here:

So, 36 hours of travel (I know it’s not 36 hours, but that is what the clock says, so I’m taking it) a little over an hour taxi ride (my cabbie took a wrong turn) and I made it to the Ashram.  

Side note, I think I figured out the honking thing.  So, because everyone drives as insane speeds for the terrain, or crazy for the congested areas, there is no real in sight driving. So, if you honk, at least ones sense of hearing is being alerted, right? There is definitely a hierarchy. Pedestrian, bicycle (some of these people should look into professional cycling considering the terrain they get over on clunky single speeds around here!!!), Scooter/Motorcycle (how an entire family of 4 fits on one of these, I’m not sure I’ll ever know), rickshaw, car, truck (depending on the size of the truck), bus.  A tap or a couple taps means look out, I’m here/coming around the corner/going to pass/etc. Laying on the horn means I’m really about to pass or you’ve pissed me off.  It’s actually got a sense of order to it once put to those terms. We’ll see if that completely gets thrown out next time I’m out there.

  

Anyway, getting here is important because it cracked me up.

I check into the Ashram and get my greeter person to make sure I understand everything.  He then starts to show me around. Turns out he’s only been at the Ashram for a day and isn’t really sure what all the buildings are called. But, he does his best. We walk by a pool of water and he says “I’m not sure what that is but it’s kind of gross.”  We are walking around and he says, “Usually there’s this really weird music playing, I don’t know why but it’s not playing right now.”  He shows me the health hut (what has become my salvation while I couldn’t eat a full meal) and tells me to get there early because the fruit always runs out.  He takes me to the kitchen to get me food, when really I’m just dying of thirst, and tells me that the plates are washed but it’s never enough, is it (turns out they get washed no less than 2 times before they’re used again).  He admits he’s never done yoga. I ask him how he managed to get here.  His mother and brother are graduates here. After watching him for a few days I think he might be the younger “troubled” son who needs a little structure and is here to get it. It absolutely cracked me up that I got this kid who seemed to not be able to answer any questions, point out anything and generally show disdain for everything he was showing me. It was an odd entry.  My last few days have been consumed with finding the quickest, most efficient way to the Ayurvedic clinic and back to my bed, so it turns out it wasn’t terribly important. Now I’m excited to go explore some and really figure it all out.

Packing:

For my family who watched me unpack and pack about 47 times before I left you will either not be surprised AT ALL or totally surprised that I have something to say on this matter. I am not sure what I was thinking during the final pack. But, here are some tips for success if you’re planning a 4-8 month pack trip, half of which you need to have your shoulders covered... separate your piles of tops into sleeve length. I have 5 tank tops, 3 long sleeve shirts and 3 t-shirts. Yep, 3 t shirts. Who did that? I did! Now, I also have something like 6 pairs of bottoms... this one I can somewhat justify (we’ll get to later) because you never know with bottoms. But, here is my advice. Ladies, 2 MAYBE 3 pair of harem pants and a pair of travel pants (I just wear yoga pants) and you’re good to go. Rarely will you be somewhere where you can’t wash your clothes or get them washed. I know I’ve read that 112 times on the internet but really, it’s the truth. 

Now, here’s the really important bit. CHECK YOUR CONVERTER before you go. Check every country you plan on going to and check what converter you need. One of the reasons you haven’t heard from me is because I’m conserving energy because, you guessed it, my handy dandy super converter doesn’t work here. Who’s the smart cookie? And, ironically, my roommate left her converter in the hotel on accident so we’re both begging borrowing and stealing for power. It’s kind of funny and really not considering how much technology I’m lugging around.

The neat thing though? Even though I could have swapped out a pant or two for a t shirt or two, I got on the plane in Dulles with a 35 lb. pack. I’m pretty house proud (to borrow a term) of the fact that I am a notorious under or over packer and I managed to do that. Now, we can add on the lb’s I had on my carry on of computer and such and we’re probably hitting 40, but really, who’s the good girl here?

I’m absolutely 1,000,000% sure I’ll have more to say on this subject later as I get into my travels. I have a billion baggies full of all sorts of supplies (I’m pretty much ready to do triage if the next world war breaks out) and I can’t wait to see what I learn about having all of these goods means. 

Panchakarma:

Ayurveda is the sister science (I write this as a picture of some serious empty bottles, cans and such from what must be Niobrera or some other event shows up as my computer desktop) of yoga. I know just enough to be dangerous about this so anyone who wants to chime in and correct me, please do.  It is based on a Dosha premise. Everyone has a leading dosha and generally a secondary dosha. Often times what happens to someone is their doshas get out of balance. An Ayurvedic Dr. will diagnose your doshas, based on a whole host of information, and your imbalance and a multi day cleanse will ensue.  One of the biggest things I wanted to experience here, while in India, was a Panchakarma.  I have put myself and been through a whole host of crap that I’m sure have got me all sorts of whacked out. I’ve done as much as I can from a therapy, yoga, rest, eat, you name it point of view. I really really wanted to have a Panchakarma. So, day one, literally hour 1, I get my happy butt walked over to the Ayurvedic clinic here and interrupt a class... yeah, slick. I go BACK at the correct hour and sit down with the Dr. He looks at me and says, you must be Kapha/Pitta (anyone who knows me and knows Ayurveda, that’s pretty evident) and says, “You have PECOS, no?” Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome.  I’ve never gotten the test, it’s a testosterone test; however, you should get a load of the honeycomb of my ovaries, they’re lovely, if that’s what you’re going for. Then he says, “is there anything else I should know.” Me, in my infinite wisdom decide apparently I’ve been well my whole life and tell him no. He takes my wrist, takes my pulse and says, “You have problems with your uterus.” Ahah! The flood gates open. (I figure I’m writing a full blog here, you know or you don’t, but you’re getting all the details). Duh, no, I am NOT a picture of lifelong health. Yes, you’re right Dr. I have a birth defect called a bicornuate uterus (something happened during my 13th week gestation and those cells decided they weren’t going to form correctly, I have a mild case, but this means I have a heart shaped/2 uteri). “What else?” he asks. It’s tilted. “Your pulse is telling me these things, you must tell your Dr. your health history.” I’m hooked. I mean really?????? Who does that? He asks about my thyroid, (I really thought something was wrong with my thyroid last year and got it checked).  Apparently I have nothing short of a few of the symptoms of imbalanced thyroid. And then he tells me, “You’ve struggled with depression, no?” So, essentially, I didn’t have to tell him my history, he got it all from my pulse.  All of this, and he sets up my next 14 days of treatments. He tells me when I’m done, I’ll feel much better. I’m stoked, because this means I’m getting a massage every day, right?

RIIIIIIIGHT... First 3 days are Massage for Weight Loss.  My massage lady (who I’m embarrassed, I have no idea what her name is, I’ve been so sick I could really only get myself there and back every day, but I’ll get it) rubs me down with what I can only describe as a sawdust like sand substance.  I rather like the smell, the first day, when I can smell.  So imagine my fear when I’m already crazy hot and she starts a fire and during the entire rub down all I can hear is boiling and percolating. Am I about to be boiled??? Luckily, this turns out to be a steam so the medicine can work.  I’m not to shower for at least 6 hours, so off I go on my merry way sawdusty/sand caked everywhere. That’s when the sick starts. Fever, headache (full migraine), sore, can’t sleep, only sleep, sweat, awfulness.  I woke up at midnight on Friday morning Thursday night and was up all night. When it was finally time for Satsang I went up to the Siva Hall, gave my observances to Siva and begged for relief, and lied down on the ground so it would be cooler, and cried. Just cried. I begged Siva, Krishna, Ram, everyone and anyone to come help me.  When I tell you I felt bad, I don’t remember feeling this sick. It was absolute torture. I hurt too much to even sleep through it, I think that was the worst part of it all. I managed through Friday and Saturday, going to the Dr. every chance I could. His pills he gave me were miraculous, until they ran out. Saturday night, Sunday morning, I woke up around 1am with another doozy. Until then, I was either so out of it to think and/or I was trying to be as observant of the Ayurvedic medicine as I could. That night, no way was I going through another round of the hell from the night before, I found my bottle of potpourri drugs and took an aleve and slept for hours.  Saturday I felt marginally better than Sunday. Sunday better than Saturday. Great, right. Until I wake up with a full blown massive cold/flu.  I figure this is just the last umpteen kids who had a cold I stayed with on my way out of the country and some panchakarma kicking in too. The cough hurt my body so much, I would have to brace myself for it.  Yeah, awesome. Luckily, my treatment changed on Sunday. 

Now we moved into a full body oil massage followed by a herbal bundle hot oil pat down.  Once again, the fire is  lit here and the oil is heated right in my view. Ohmigod is pretty much all I can think.  What I haven’t told you is during my treatments, I’m chanting the name Ram over and over and over. They say, when you chant the name of Ram, the past can be undone and miracles can happen. I’m pretty sure (my logical brain says) that the last couple years of abuse and neglect on my body can’t be undone in 14 days; however, (my believer brain - which I had an amazing dream about during hell night) believes. So, I’m chanting Ram with every hand stroke, with every pressure point touch, with every breath, with every tap of the really freaking hot bundles of herbs. 

Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram 

over and over and over and over again.  Because I believe. I made a choice, when I quit my job, to trust that this was the right decision. That my path would open in front of me. That all would be okay. And, it really has. So, I need to not hold back my belief here. I always have stopped here, this time I’m believing 100%. No a la carte believing, right?

So, today, I go for my second day of hot oil all body massage, the Dr. gave me some cough syrup (turns out coughing is really not a good thing for panchakarma) and more pills (ahhhh, the wonderful pills) and I’m actually somewhat human. Not ready to dive into the quite rigorous schedule here (which I’m sure I’ll have more to say once I participate in a full day), but almost human. Thank God!

And finally, you’ve been waiting for it!

THE LEFT HAND!!!!

So, my first time I walked into the bathroom all noble and ready for, you know, the left hand experience, and there was a roll of toilet paper AND a toilet!!! I laughed and laughed and laughed... until the next time I walked in and there wasn’t.  I cried and cried and cried... no, I really didn’t, I’ve done enough of that. :)  So, the first couple days were a mixture of thank god for my wipes and, oh by the way, the boutique sells toilet paper.  Which has also been a godsend now that my nose has decided it needs to run 24/7... I’m not going to lie, the first day, or two, I have used the left hand (promptly washed). I figure I’m not always going to have this luxury option, am I? I’m not sure. So, I’m somewhat prepared.  I’ve made sure to use the hole in the floor enough times that I have good aim and can make it in the big bad world out there, when time need be. 

Enough of that, no?