I'm feeling disconnected, confused as if I forgot to carry my soul with me to Europe. The day I left India, I thought I was ready to leave. I thought I was ready to leave the noise, commotion, poverty, begging, traffic, filth, pollution, food, plethora of smells, mosquitoes, the constant staring and interrogation by Indians. And yet three weeks in Western Europe presented me with a deep longing to run back to the airport and hop on the first plane that left for India.
I miss the rigidness of my morning routine, practicing yoga among the energy of 80-100 people practicing with me, under the guidance and watchful eye of our guru. I miss the aromas that I smelled as I walked from practice to my friend Tina's house as she pulls fresh baked soda bread out of her oven and cooks up mung bean dosas on the griddle, with masala chai brewing constantly on her stove, ready to fill the countless cups that are emptied by yoga students that I spoke with for hours. Tina turned her home into an informal restaurant. She cooked and served yoga students that came to her home after yoga practice to eat and drink before moving into the rest of their day. Her backyard was set up with table and pillows arranged around them. Her home became an extension of our own.
Now as I sit in a very civilized tea shop on Lange Leem Straat, tucked on a street in the city of Antwerpen relishing Indian smells, tastes and sights, people dressed to impress rush by me, not giving me a second glance. It feels weird be among all white people again. People no longer staring at me and asking, "Which country are you, Madam? Why are you here? Are you married?" Euros rush here and there. I used to laugh to myself at the way people in India took their time and lounged around for what seemed like most of the day. I used to think to myself, "Aren't they bored? Is it the heat? Don't they work?" Contrary to Western society, Indians are relaxed, slow moving. Maybe it is the heat, but I suspect it is something different entirely.
It's the feeling of connection, brother-hood, sister-spirit, family and deep spiritual faith that is the seed of their languidness. They look out for one another, really trying help and understand one another. They talk to each other while really listening. I'm not saying there is no violence in India, because there surely is! However, my experience revealed the gentler side of India. I went there to seek my teacher, my guru, and to experience a deeper sense of my own spiritual reality. Being raised as a young Catholic school girl, God has always been a large presence in my life.
As I grew older and became more tainted because of the things that happened to me, religion played less and less a role in my life. Over the years, I missed spirituality in my life. I've always felt such a strange need to express my spirituality in some way and until I found yoga, I had no release for this powerful overflowing energy. I always felt like an outsider looking in. I hadn't been able to make the pieces of my puzzle fit into this belief or that creed.
"My body is my temple and these asanas are my prayers," is a quote from BKS Iyengar. When I read these words, I think my heart skipped a beat and I started to cry. How truly beautiful they are and they resonated with me completely. The challenge I'm facing now that I have left my family of Ashtangis who gathered at our guru's feet every morning, six days a week, is how do I maintain the flow of energy as one person? I thought at times that I would never hear the end of how someone's yoga practice was going. Is that all anyone talks about in Mysore? I thought as I'd listen to someone say how they were going to grab a hold of their ankles in their next backbend or the politics of the teacher you chose to study with, whatever your reasons may be.
Am I rambling? Yes, I thought so too! Ground yourself, breathe, just sit and close your eyes, lengthen your spine. I say to myself as I watch the movie that is my life reel itself clip by clip.
I think the greatest gift I received from India was the connection I made with the people who live there and the lesson of acceptance and continued spiritual growth. Among all the people I met, there were only a handful who complained. They taught me the reason for all the pictures of Hindu deities and the kitch altars decorated with blinking lights, in the entryways of businesses and homes, on the dashboards of rickshaws and cars was a reminder to them that God is everywhere and that whatever happens is the wish of this Divine energy. Therefore, everyone must remember to respect and worship the Spirit that runs through us. There are hundreds of deities that are pictured to resonate with peoples various aspects of being, reminding us of God within us. I learned to accept my lot with a smile on my face and a heart full of compassion. We are a reflection of this energy and responsible for our own enlightenment.
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