India: Dawn in Rishikesh
Yesterday was filled with the weary woes of travel and exhaustion. At 4:00 in the morning a wonderfully kind woman, Minakshi, and I found ourselves waiting for the same trolley to transport us from the Delhi International Terminal to the Delhi Domestic Terminal. She must have been able to read the fatigue on my face because with any prompting she approached me and said in the happiest and gentlest Indian accent:
“It gets easier you know... Traveling to India is a marathon, not a sprint.”
How right she was! I was rushing through the process and missing things along the way. I will forever be grateful for her reminder to stay present.
6 long hours later I arrived to my new home for the next 6 weeks, The Indian Association of Yoga and Meditation (AYM). As I walked up the newly poured cement steps someone whom I had only known through email until this point, Sewak, greeted me. He was the happiest old Indian man I had ever seen. Just shy of 5 feet tall his big eyes smiled at me. He was friendly I’m sure I was too, although my smile was ear to ear not just because of this nice person welcoming me home, but because I knew lying down in an actual bed was mere moments away!
Instead of shoving papers in my face to fill out Sewak took me directly to my room. “Rest first, papers later. You have been traveling a long time” he exclaimed as we walked up the 2 flights of pristine marble-looking slate stairs. The hand railing was wood and looked as if it had been plucked directly off of a tree branch and the gentle touch of thousands of fingers had sanded its rough edges. We approached the wooden door with the gold number plate 309, and with a gentle push it swung open. I was home.
To my happy surprise it looked exactly like the photos from the AYM website (something I was not entirely expecting). It was clean, welcoming and had A BED! Oh what a GLORIOUS sight!!! I set my stuff down and Sewak instructed me to rest until lunch. He left and I set my sight on my new best friend: a mid-shin-high wooden bed. As soon as I lay down I knew that this was not the bed I was hoping for (insert Star Wars Joke here), the familiar cushion of a western-style mattress was nowhere to be found, but it didn’t matter. I was lying down for the first time in days and embraced the newfound moment of comfort. Within seconds my eyes closed with the weight of 3 days of travel and I was blissfully in dreamland.
What felt like literally one second later, came an earth-shatteringly loud pounding was at my door; “Dawn-E, Dawn-E time for lunch!”. Startled and confused I jumped up, grabbed my bottle of water and made my way down to the dining hall. About a dozen people, who looked like they could form their own UN meeting, were seated on the floor feverishly eating their rice, dhal, and curry. I was totally a fish out of water. These people had been here for weeks finishing their 200H and I was only the first to arrive from my group. I decided to hang back for a moment and just watch what others did so I could find my routine. I have no idea what kept me from asking someone what to do, probably my own pride, or that fact that I was running off of 2 hours of sleep. It didn’t matter either way because I quickly found my rhythm.
Here’s how the meals work at AYM: grab your pan, fill it with as much or as little food as you want, sit down, eat, empty your pan, wash your pan, rinse, put it back where you found it. Simple enough.
I looked at the food, which reminded me of my friend Neerav’s mom’s cooking. It smelled incredible and I was starving, but warning signs began to flash through my nervous brain. <WARNING>What if it wasn’t cooked enough?<WARNING> Delhi Belly! ... Every cautionary tale, every fear-induced piece of advice, every story from friends who had traveled to India and got sick came to me all at once. I made the decision to eat just a little, almost like sticking your toes in a cold pool to test how frigid the water will feel on the rest of your body. I took, quite literally, 6 bites of rice, naan, and curried peas with potatoes. It was delicious, but completely tainted by my fear of what might happen 20 minutes from when I put that first bite into my mouth.
After lunch, I meandered my way around the ashram for a little exploratory fun in an attempt to fight off jet lag and get on a good sleep cycle. Wow, what an incredible view! After an hour I found my way back to room 309, laid on my box-bed and began to read in one more fight to stay awake.
"HOLY SHIT I FELL ASLEEP"! What I had anticipated to be an hour of light reading had turned into a 6 ½ hour nap! A Glorious nap! A drooled out fantastic nap! But now it was 10:41 at night, kitchen is closed, and lights are out . . . I struggled for a moment trying to figure out what to do, and then decided it was time to call Jon and eat one of the 24 Cliff bars I had brought with me.
Seeing his face produced the most incredible feeling; like getting a hug from 7,901 miles away. Gratitude for Skype and the Internet filled me from head to toe. I excitedly told him in a hushed voice about the day’s adventures and how I mistakenly slept through dinner, and he just smiled and laughed in that way only he does. (God I miss him). What’s the good news about waking up past 10:30p when everyone else is asleep?! The Internet connection is AWESOME! We chatted for a while and then said our “see you later” goodbyes. Him reassuring me that this is going to get better and better, and me agreeing wholeheartedly. My hope was back!
I fell back asleep only to rise again a few hours later. “Crap… its still dark out. What time is it? … 4:01AM!?!!” I was wide-awake for the first time in days.
I decided to jump into the yoga lifestyle and began my morning meditation, hungrily waiting for the time when the halls would begin to fill with the shuffling of yogi footsteps. 2 hours later the smell of incense trickled its way to my room. It was strong and sweet, a reminder that I was not in California any more. Loud chanting unexpectedly filled the ashram. The voices echoed through the slate halls just as if I were at a time travel symphony; it felt like listening to the sounds of ancient songs. I took this as a sign that it was ok for me to leave my room without disturbing anyone (everything echoes in the dorms) and made my way to the…what the heck?… EMPTY kitchen!?!?! I had forgotten the daily schedule… 6:00a chanting and meditation, 6:30a pranayama, 7:00a tea, 8:00a yoga, THEN 10:00a breakfast. AGH my stomach was momentarily out of luck! 4 hours until the morning meal… “I can do this”.
What does a hungry yogini do? … Cliff bar #2 please!!!! (Thank goodness I listened to my family and brought extra food). It was still dark out, the sun wasn’t supposed to rise for another 40 minutes, so I put my exploratory nature to good use and found an empty room with a comfy chair where I could journal by myself.
2 pages into my rambling I had my first AYM ah-ha moment. Here’s what was written:
“ I am flooded with questions of ‘what now’ as each new moment passes. I don’t know what the rules are yet and I have almost found myself paralyzed … do I go outside? Is it safe? And it isn’t until this very moment that I’m realizing this is a pattern in my life that I need to adjust. I wait for others to tell me what to do before I even ask myself “what do I want to do?’. Funny I write this now, because the sun is starting to rise over the mountains, flooding the room and my paper with the most beautiful golden haze, illuminating my discovery. New day, new opportunities!”
I decided right then and there that this was a pattern that was long overdue for adjustment. Following the rules is fine, but loosing yourself in the process is not. Just like loosing yourself to the fears of others is in no way beneficial. (My fear-tainted-lunch). It was time to start listening to the most important voice inside: mine.
Dawn had arrived in Rishikesh.