47. Meditate at an Ashram in India

Sidestepping a homeless beggar, I exited the suffocating train from Delhi to Haridwar trying hopelessly not to regret my decision to travel to India.  Physically overwhelmed by every sensory stimulus, I wanted to will myself to disappear into another atmosphere. One that put my physical well being at far less risk.  Blaring car horns, station announcements in Hindi and dozens of aggressive taxi drivers offering their services had me disoriented and longing for the safety of my hometown. The poverty and disease hung in the air all around me, and I wasn't sure whether I should laugh or cry when I was nearly hit by a speeding scooter, zipping past me, carrying a family of five. And somehow amid this, I was supposed to find serenity.

The decision to travel to India was made nearly a year before I actually stepped into the third world country, in the safety of my living room, with the comfortable distance of a computer screen to mask any danger. I will admit that Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love (both the book and movie) were highly influential in my decision to travel to India, and stay in an ashram. I had already eaten my way through Italy (as well as many other places), so India was the natural next step. Like Gilbert, I was seeking peace and serenity after my divorce. I was on nothing less than a spiritual crusade, so the country where it all began seemed like the perfect source. I imagined myself meeting with gurus, meditating for hours, manipulating my body into ridiculous yoga positions all while eating the most delicious, clean, vegan diet--fully cooked to at least 165 degrees F. The result of all of this would, of course, be enlightenment.

Hanuman

To prepare for my trip, I dove into research. I did yoga 5 days a week, I studied Hinduism and tried (unsuccessfully) to remember at least some of the most important Hindu Gods. I became a vegetarian, and meditated and chanted to Ganesha daily. I studied maps, and reached out to my Indian friends. I learned about Indian culture, dress, food, entertainment and music. I traveled more than a few times to Little India, and I stumbled through the basics of the Hindi language. My boyfriend was responsible for vaccine research. Turns out the number of inoculations needed to stay healthy enough to reach enlightenment is 8. Luckily my doctor is from India and was able to give me good advice, having just traveled there herself. More importantly, she was able to give me good drugs. I literally traveled with a mini pharmacy of antibiotics, malaria medication, iodine pills, food poisoning kit, etc. My boyfriend was also in charge of ashram research. In other words it was his task to find a place for us to stay that was safe, clean(ish) had yoga, meditation, a guru, you know, just the whole spiritual package I was dreaming about. We ruled out the ashram in Eat Pray Love because it was located in South India and we had focused our attention on a town called Rishikesh, in North India, the center of yoga and Ayurvedik healing. It is also the town made famous by the Beatles after their ashram visit in 1967. He emailed a few ashrams in the area, but did not get a lot of information back. In fact some ashrams did not reply at all. Some were evasive and seemed reluctant to give out much information. I was starting to worry that we might not be able to make this work. I certainly didn't want to just show up and not have a place to stay. And it was very difficult to know which ashram was the best fit for us. We had already been warned multiple times, by Indians no less, not to trust anyone, so we felt very vulnerable. Finally, after several weeks of correspondence, we learned that we were invited to stay at the ashram Parmarth Niketan. This was both exciting and scary. It was our first choice, but what did we really know about it? And how could we really prepare ourselves for such a unique experience? One you don't often read about in tour books. Then in uncharacteristic form, my very private boyfriend mentioned our trip in passing to an colleague  at work, and with that, everything karmically fell into place. That acquaintance had a friend who had been staying at an ashram in Rishikesh for over a year. In fact, that friend was staying at THE ashram that just agreed to host us. We began communicating with her--which went much faster, and were able to get the inside scoop on everything, from what to bring to what to expect when we arrive. Having an American woman at the ashram we were traveling to was a huge advantage as well as inspiration. It gave me that extra boost I needed to go through with this crazy adventure.

Our comfy room

And that's just what I was thinking when I got off the train in Haridwar. This is crazy! Like 'I could die,' crazy. And just as I was about to be suffocated by my anxiety, I somehow managed to stop resisting what was in front of me. While lying down on my ashram bed trying to receive the swamp cooler's stingy offering of respite from the heat, I made a decision to accept my situation. India is an all out assault on the senses. It is like waves at the beach. You can fight against them, and they will knock you down. Or you can dive into them, frightening though it seems, and come out the other side feeling totally alive. What a blessing it was to have dived into my experience in India and accept this beautiful, horrifying country just as it was, and not as I wanted it to be. This was the first of many lessons I learned on my trip.

Shiva

With my new attitude I set out to explore this mysterious institution in which I found myself. Parmarth Niketan means house of highest truth and salvation. I prefer, however the way our new American friend described it when we arrived--"It's like Hogwarts. Real magic happens here." I also loved the way she described the guru Swami Chidanand Saraswati, or swamiji (sounds like Swami G) for short, head of Parmarth. She said he literally glows. She admitted that she could not even talk to him for the first six months she was there without crying. I had never met a guru. I was skeptical, terrified, excited. Could he see through me? My past present and future all at once. Would he just take me for another phony tourist looking to have an exotic experience in India? Part of me felt like a phony tourist looking to have an exotic experience in India. What if he was a phony guru? I've certainly heard a lot about them. Suddenly all my Indian friends' warnings of not to trust anyone came back to me. India is a country of survivors. What if Swamiji was simply masquerading as a guru, duping us dumb tourists out of our money to feed his family back home. Regardless, I was there, spiritually infantile, desirous nonetheless to meet with this man who supposedly talks with God. And ultimately to understand how I, myself, can do the same. Swamiji is a busy man, however, and does not have time to meet with all his followers. In fact, people can travel from all over world to see him, but never meet him in person. We were lucky that he was on the premises during our visit. And we were even luckier to have our new American friend personally introduce us. When we did finally meet him, I was surprised to find how shy, and tongue tied I was. I felt out of sorts. Unaccustomed to the rituals necessary to greet a guru, I fumbled through a bow, a kneel to the ground, and a traditional "namaste" hands to heart greeting. I thought I should cover my bases. Then I just sat and listened to him talk to us about life and pain, and love, and God. He has a funny sense of humor and great wit. His lessons are easy to remember with trademark lines like, "We cannot be in peace if we are in pieces." It did not take long to realize that he was the real deal. His relationship with God was evident in his appearance, in everything he said, and in his many selfless deeds. More to the point, his relationship with God was evident in the way I felt closer to God by being near him. Lesson number two--surround yourself with people who have a relationship with God.

Darshan

Friends

Indians like white people

Our American friend, Rane (her Indian name) then introduced us to other young spiritual sojourners at the ashram. Some had been there for a few months, others longer. All of them had the same goal, however--to find God.  There was Carlos, a gentle, highly enlightened young soul from Mexico City. He had stopped in India for a few months on what has turned out to be a multiple year global journey. There was Shanti(her Indian name) a cute, white, blonde girl from Berkley, looking for something she can't seem to find anywhere else in the world. There was Nishtha (her real name) and Nishahn (his real name) Indians from Australia and Canada respectively, and for some reason always seen together. I thought they might be a couple because they looked so cute together, but they were not. Nishtha had a wild streak in her I could tell. While Nishahn was polite and humble to a fault. Nandini or Nancy was also Indian, and I could never quite figure her out. I don't know if she was from India, because she seemed so western, yet she was by far the most authentically committed participant in the ashram ceremonies. We met other travelers from Italy, India, and Eastern Europe there just for a few days like us. It felt like a dorm, and because breakfast, lunch and dinner were all included in the price of the room($20 a day) we inevitably ran into the same people in the cafeteria as well as at ashram activities and ceremonies. Being among all these seekers made me appreciate my journey a bit more. It also taught me to be patient with myself and to learn to be thankful for the hardships as well as blessings  along the way. Everyone is on a journey, and at various points of that journey. The key is to be on the journey, and to trust that whatever challenges and blessings come my way, are there specifically for me.

One of the challenges on this journey was finding fulfilling meditation and yoga classes. I assumed that the ashram would have yoga and meditation 24/7, and that by the end of the week, I'd be having conversations with God while standing on my head. After one very simple yoga class, and an early morning meditation/ class led entirely in Hindi(I think), we decided to look outside the ashram for yoga. By chance, the one class we found was led by a young girl from Fullerton, CA, 20 minutes away from our hometown. The class ended up being informative and interesting, just not what we had hoped for. Apparently there were many highly challenging classes offered by Indian yogis, we just didn't know where to look.

Holy cow

Street food we did not eat

My favorite part of the ashram experience, besides meeting unique and like minded people, was the Ganga aarti ceremony performed every night. For this ceremony, hundreds of people gather on the banks of the Holy Ganga river to sing praises to God. The world disappears in the blazing fire, and with it all worries, sins, and negativity. And for those hours we are united as a sea of voices with a common purpose--to understand our own divinity, and to serve humanity. It's a powerful ceremony and one that I greatly miss. I also miss greeting everyone with my hands to heart, a slight bow of humility, and a very cheerful, "Namaste." Namaste roughly means--the divinity in me recognizes the divinity in you. I would think this every time I greeted someone, and by the end of the week I truly felt what I was saying. I felt divine and I felt like I was surrounded by divine souls. I loved walking through the streets of Rishikesh and seeing familiar faces in the very tiny community by the ashram. I loved stopping in for hot honey, ginger, lime juice, graciously offered for free at various shops where we developed friendships with the owners. I loved encountering cheeky monkeys who would steel your food if you had any, and stubborn Brahman cows who seemed to have no problem understanding their divinity when playing chicken with cars in the street. I struggled to not pity the homeless beggars who lined the streets outside the ashram, as I tried to understand their place in this universe and whether it is that different than mine.

"Western approved" restaurant food we did eat

All the beautiful experiences that made up this trip, all the lessons I learned were a direct result of letting go of what control I thought I had over it. One of the last things I said to Carlos before we left the ashram was, "Control is an illusion." I fooled myself into thinking that my perfect preparation for India was going to yield the experience I really wanted, and in turn would make me wildly happy and peaceful. 5 minutes into the trip proved that plan to be a complete failure. It wasn't until I let go of the control, and had faith that I might not get the trip I wanted, but I would certainly get the trip I needed, that the "magic" happened. God is in control. And while my preparation was helpful, being open minded and present in the moment were the tools that ultimately made this trip the most profound experience I have ever had.


(Some of you may have noticed the formal wear my boyfriend and I are wearing in some of the pictures. I will just say that there was a Hindu wedding ceremony performed on the banks of the Ganga. That was the journey within the journey, and one I will document in another post. Stay tuned.)