Ganga bliss that is.....
The sacred Ganga is flowing below me. It moves quickly and flows with such peace you really want to embody her life. When I first arrived in Rishihesh I went to an ashram and realized within moments this was going to be a trail run. It became clear to me the food was bad, the yoga was really bad and the guru and teachers were not focused on those of us students who where not enrolled in the month long teacher training. 12 hours later I was an ashram school dropout and I never felt more happy witha decision that the one to leave.
I wanted to be like the ganga, free. Free to practice my own yoga and mediatation when i pleased. I checked into a spacious room with a ganga view and a big roof top to practice yoga. I found Sunsheel, the best Indian yoga instructor I have met, and have since been in Ganga bliss. My days are luscious, filled with 2 hour yoga classess and my own mediatioon practice twice a day. In between I eat wonderful fresh fruits, juices and the best momo's on the planet.
Rishikesh has such a vibrant enegery. Pilgrams form all over Indian come to worship her. Belss and chanting resume each day at 5am. Sitar and tabla music are played over the temple oudspeakers and this palce exudes Hindu culture. There are sadhus bathing the eaters and children playing in the sand. Each night fire pujas are held on the banks. The pujas are a way to clarify the mind and body, worship deities, and ignite the agni. All along the banks the mother ganga soaks it all in and washes clears the mind. More on rishikesh to come
saying goon night and sending love as always.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
"It really does grow like a weed" and "same, same but different'... A story in two parts
Dear friends, I have this blog but it is no fun to read when there is no content! Aplogies, I have been trekking (hiking) and taking 12 hour bus rides for the past 5 days, this equals no internet and or outside communication.
But I am back and revived, well kind of, from an incrediable trek in the Himalayan foothills and now in the energetic town of Rishikesh.
Part One: "It really does grow like a weed"
Ween, Ganga, Marijuana.. whatever you want to call it, this beautiful plant grows in abundance in the region known as Himachal Pradesh. After a 9 hour overnight taxi, 3 buses and a cab, my hiking pal, Ester arrive in Barshani. I get off the city bus, look around and glance over my shoulder... "huh" I think, "It really does grow like a weed" Weed is everywhere, on the side of the road, growing in peoples backyards, clinging to the slopes of huge mountains, it is amazing!!!
After omlette sandwiches in a shack off the side of the road, Ester and I start the long trek to Keerghanga. We hire a porter/gude to take us as we have heard hiking in this region alone is not the best idea. God forbid we walked onto some ganga plantation. To make a very long story short, the trail to Keerganga is steep, rocky and I have no hiking gear, only old running shoes, I felt like a billy goat. After cresting the tree line 4 hours later, Ester and I are breathless and speechless as we emerge from the dark understory of huge pines to the rolling, green majestic hillside, complete with a a few small guesthouses and a few resturants. HIking in India is great becasue you get to the destinantion and they have places to stay, well in this case, a few 4 by 4's, some old tarps for walls and a tin roof... not much but I'll take it.
Keerghanga is stunning. The hilly slope is surrounded my majestic snow capped peaks and there is a cement bath filled with free flowing mineral hot springs. Ester and I spent 3 days bathing, sunning, readng and loving life. The nights were spent by the tandorri oven and then curling up in all our clothes to sleep. We arose each morning with the sun and then off to the baths, where we spent glorious hours nude in the hot sun and warm waters. The baths are gender seperate, so we had a great time lounging and conversing with beautiful women from all over the globe. It was so nice to share time with strangers in the nude, in the sun.. the baths became our own womens retreat. We shared everything from body wash, to stories of love, travel and life. Ahhghh I miss it already.
Part 2 : "Same, Same but different"
My faorite saying in India...."Same, Same but different" It is used when you explain somthing compared to another. For example, If i asked you how the curry at Buddha cafe was compared to the curry at Freedom cafe, you might respond, " same same but different" This phrase has summed up the later half of my trip. I feel as though I am the same same but different. Same body, well less toned, same smile, same skin, but a totally different mind. The ability to change my mind on a whim, to be free, to think about the last 6 months has made me fearless in a way I have not felt ever. I have control over my life. When I am hungry I eat. When I want to move I move. When I feel uneasy I leave a situation. After feeling so bound to school, to work, to life.. this trip has helped me to undertsand truths about myself. Along with this there have been some tears, some long nights alone, some long nights laughing with new friends and some major reflection. Seeking the truth about the self, of feeling same same but different has not been an easy path. I often miss my old life, my old house, my dog and my oldest love. In the ashes of it all, I feel renewed like a fire in me has started to burn away old patterns, fears and judgements about myself.
In the wake of it the wonderful thing is that I am the same, may things about me will not chnage and those positive attributes and charateristics are thriving and those old patters and changes I am seeking to rid are the differnt part, the part that is not adding to my life. So India, I love you and To you all .... as always, I am in deepest gratitude for your love and support. May we all continue to thrive and some how as we change and grow old we can remember that our bodies, our minds and sometimes even our hearts can be describeds as, "same same, but different."
In closing : There is everlasting joy only when there is the constant response to beauty, to ugliness, to everything - which means, great inward and outward sensitivity, which means, having real love. - Talking to Boys and Girls, Rajghat,India 1952
But I am back and revived, well kind of, from an incrediable trek in the Himalayan foothills and now in the energetic town of Rishikesh.
Part One: "It really does grow like a weed"
Ween, Ganga, Marijuana.. whatever you want to call it, this beautiful plant grows in abundance in the region known as Himachal Pradesh. After a 9 hour overnight taxi, 3 buses and a cab, my hiking pal, Ester arrive in Barshani. I get off the city bus, look around and glance over my shoulder... "huh" I think, "It really does grow like a weed" Weed is everywhere, on the side of the road, growing in peoples backyards, clinging to the slopes of huge mountains, it is amazing!!!
After omlette sandwiches in a shack off the side of the road, Ester and I start the long trek to Keerghanga. We hire a porter/gude to take us as we have heard hiking in this region alone is not the best idea. God forbid we walked onto some ganga plantation. To make a very long story short, the trail to Keerganga is steep, rocky and I have no hiking gear, only old running shoes, I felt like a billy goat. After cresting the tree line 4 hours later, Ester and I are breathless and speechless as we emerge from the dark understory of huge pines to the rolling, green majestic hillside, complete with a a few small guesthouses and a few resturants. HIking in India is great becasue you get to the destinantion and they have places to stay, well in this case, a few 4 by 4's, some old tarps for walls and a tin roof... not much but I'll take it.
Keerghanga is stunning. The hilly slope is surrounded my majestic snow capped peaks and there is a cement bath filled with free flowing mineral hot springs. Ester and I spent 3 days bathing, sunning, readng and loving life. The nights were spent by the tandorri oven and then curling up in all our clothes to sleep. We arose each morning with the sun and then off to the baths, where we spent glorious hours nude in the hot sun and warm waters. The baths are gender seperate, so we had a great time lounging and conversing with beautiful women from all over the globe. It was so nice to share time with strangers in the nude, in the sun.. the baths became our own womens retreat. We shared everything from body wash, to stories of love, travel and life. Ahhghh I miss it already.
Part 2 : "Same, Same but different"
My faorite saying in India...."Same, Same but different" It is used when you explain somthing compared to another. For example, If i asked you how the curry at Buddha cafe was compared to the curry at Freedom cafe, you might respond, " same same but different" This phrase has summed up the later half of my trip. I feel as though I am the same same but different. Same body, well less toned, same smile, same skin, but a totally different mind. The ability to change my mind on a whim, to be free, to think about the last 6 months has made me fearless in a way I have not felt ever. I have control over my life. When I am hungry I eat. When I want to move I move. When I feel uneasy I leave a situation. After feeling so bound to school, to work, to life.. this trip has helped me to undertsand truths about myself. Along with this there have been some tears, some long nights alone, some long nights laughing with new friends and some major reflection. Seeking the truth about the self, of feeling same same but different has not been an easy path. I often miss my old life, my old house, my dog and my oldest love. In the ashes of it all, I feel renewed like a fire in me has started to burn away old patterns, fears and judgements about myself.
In the wake of it the wonderful thing is that I am the same, may things about me will not chnage and those positive attributes and charateristics are thriving and those old patters and changes I am seeking to rid are the differnt part, the part that is not adding to my life. So India, I love you and To you all .... as always, I am in deepest gratitude for your love and support. May we all continue to thrive and some how as we change and grow old we can remember that our bodies, our minds and sometimes even our hearts can be describeds as, "same same, but different."
In closing : There is everlasting joy only when there is the constant response to beauty, to ugliness, to everything - which means, great inward and outward sensitivity, which means, having real love. - Talking to Boys and Girls, Rajghat,India 1952
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
feeling like 10 million ruppes
so after being cooped up, sick, missing yoga, missing other human life and on top of it all not exercising for over 2 weeks, I got just what the nurse ordered.... an 8 hour hike to the most epic place I have ever treked too.
Triund is a 1,800 km uphill climb from Mcleod. The trek is about 4 hours up and is a fast incline to a high elevation. At times your likes fee like they might explode and then youyr reach the top. The peak is this lush grassy plane scattered with huge granite boulders, shrines, a tea shop and prayer flags. There is a 360 view of even higher monumental peaks all around, which are made visable for brief moments as the clouds part and reveal the truth that you are surrounded by giants.
I have never been so taken back by the power of mountains. I have never seen such high peaks and I can see the intrigue and desire to climb them. This place is so moving that I needed to part form my group of four and take some time to sit in silence. I walked up to the shrine to Durga and sat and thought. My few first thoughts where of my grandparents that have since past. Some how being surrounded by the ancient mountains reminded me the solid foundation they have been created my life.The clouds at Triund seemed to move in a slow and steady pattern that reminded me of Papa, my mothers father. The cool breeze and sunlight was grama betty as she had this way of being warm and comforting always. And then the stoic peaks, so still and sound was Grandpa Joe, a man who made sure his grandchildren were taken care of. I just sat and talked to each one and felt a deep respect for what nature can do for the soul and how no matter where we are our past is with us, all parts of it. I miss my grandparents dearly and love that we can talk through the mountains and clouds.
sending love and thinking of your smile.
Triund is a 1,800 km uphill climb from Mcleod. The trek is about 4 hours up and is a fast incline to a high elevation. At times your likes fee like they might explode and then youyr reach the top. The peak is this lush grassy plane scattered with huge granite boulders, shrines, a tea shop and prayer flags. There is a 360 view of even higher monumental peaks all around, which are made visable for brief moments as the clouds part and reveal the truth that you are surrounded by giants.
I have never been so taken back by the power of mountains. I have never seen such high peaks and I can see the intrigue and desire to climb them. This place is so moving that I needed to part form my group of four and take some time to sit in silence. I walked up to the shrine to Durga and sat and thought. My few first thoughts where of my grandparents that have since past. Some how being surrounded by the ancient mountains reminded me the solid foundation they have been created my life.The clouds at Triund seemed to move in a slow and steady pattern that reminded me of Papa, my mothers father. The cool breeze and sunlight was grama betty as she had this way of being warm and comforting always. And then the stoic peaks, so still and sound was Grandpa Joe, a man who made sure his grandchildren were taken care of. I just sat and talked to each one and felt a deep respect for what nature can do for the soul and how no matter where we are our past is with us, all parts of it. I miss my grandparents dearly and love that we can talk through the mountains and clouds.
sending love and thinking of your smile.
Friday, September 24, 2010
sun has broke over mcleod ganji
so i finally made it out of the mold layden bedding and pillow i had come to truly dislike after 4 days of being extremely ill. the last time i was this sick i was living/working at an eco commune in new zealand but i had chris there to support me. here in this small town i am supported by the kindenss of strangers and new friends. the illness started as a small cough, then moved into days of uncontrollable chills, high fever and weakness . i now only have to deal with diarrhea, which is a huge topic of conversation amongst the westerner travelers, which is why i can freely tell you about my unpleasant condition. like any event here in india, it must be taken in stride and know that it will pass, literally, as everything does. i did go to see a tibetian doctor who checked my pulse at the wrist and from this assessment was able to tell me a detailed description of my current condition as well as my past health history... amazing. i am now taking this black and yellow pills throughout the day that taste like a mixture of bitter herbs, cow droppings, mold, bark and yeast..... so fowl, but they seem to help... more to come on this topic.
feeling very home sick, i almost lost it a few days back and then realized that on top of all this i was experiencing pms... really?
yesterday i did spend some time outside at a temple in kangra. a small town outside dharamshala, where the sun was hot and i culd get away from the cold weather for a bit. i was sitting next to franca, my mothering italian friend, and she looked at me during one point n the trip and said "my dear, it is all ok, you must trust in god, in your faith as a woman and tell yourself, it is all ok" i must have looked green from the hairpin turns on the bus but i just was so settled after she spoke this few words. i looked out the window, watched the monkeys on the side of the road, watched the river churn below the steep majestic cliff, watched the grain fields light up in the patchy sun and just breathed in the fresh air. i sat there thinking when was the last time is surrendered to god. had i ever really surrendered to a higher power, a universal love, god, a goddess, grace? i have had moments of surrender, no doubt, and then i thought about what it would be like to live a life in complete faith to the universe but with two feet planted in the ground. what would that life feel like, look like, taste like? i can tell you it looked like, felt like and tasted like that moment on that bus going to kangra. for about 45 minutes on the bus i felt really connected. aware of the place i was in. open to having to move if needed, change seats, but also just totally in tune with everything around me. as though my body and mind where still, but my eyes and part of my mind where still active, grounded to earth but with heart filled with god.
this feeling i have felt before and it is one worth cultivating each day. it is my intention to just feel god, feel the universe and check in. from my experince here in india, this does not take hours of metal training, meditation, or complicated yoga asanas. most of my revelations have taken place on stinky, crowded, loud, city buses. this simple act of being present amidst action, the foundation of the yoga asanas, makes even more sense as we move through our daily lives, which back home are filled with abundant action and less surrender.
the "mouse pad" i am using at the moment, which is the backcover of an old book ( a living metaphor of reincarnation, in india everything has at least 20 uses beyond its origional purpose) states, "just step at leisure as we all have our own pace and our dance is our harmony"
wishing you all the freedom to dance your own dance, to dwell in your own god and to be at leisure with your thoughts. sending love as always and a huge hug. xoxoxox
feeling very home sick, i almost lost it a few days back and then realized that on top of all this i was experiencing pms... really?
yesterday i did spend some time outside at a temple in kangra. a small town outside dharamshala, where the sun was hot and i culd get away from the cold weather for a bit. i was sitting next to franca, my mothering italian friend, and she looked at me during one point n the trip and said "my dear, it is all ok, you must trust in god, in your faith as a woman and tell yourself, it is all ok" i must have looked green from the hairpin turns on the bus but i just was so settled after she spoke this few words. i looked out the window, watched the monkeys on the side of the road, watched the river churn below the steep majestic cliff, watched the grain fields light up in the patchy sun and just breathed in the fresh air. i sat there thinking when was the last time is surrendered to god. had i ever really surrendered to a higher power, a universal love, god, a goddess, grace? i have had moments of surrender, no doubt, and then i thought about what it would be like to live a life in complete faith to the universe but with two feet planted in the ground. what would that life feel like, look like, taste like? i can tell you it looked like, felt like and tasted like that moment on that bus going to kangra. for about 45 minutes on the bus i felt really connected. aware of the place i was in. open to having to move if needed, change seats, but also just totally in tune with everything around me. as though my body and mind where still, but my eyes and part of my mind where still active, grounded to earth but with heart filled with god.
this feeling i have felt before and it is one worth cultivating each day. it is my intention to just feel god, feel the universe and check in. from my experince here in india, this does not take hours of metal training, meditation, or complicated yoga asanas. most of my revelations have taken place on stinky, crowded, loud, city buses. this simple act of being present amidst action, the foundation of the yoga asanas, makes even more sense as we move through our daily lives, which back home are filled with abundant action and less surrender.
the "mouse pad" i am using at the moment, which is the backcover of an old book ( a living metaphor of reincarnation, in india everything has at least 20 uses beyond its origional purpose) states, "just step at leisure as we all have our own pace and our dance is our harmony"
wishing you all the freedom to dance your own dance, to dwell in your own god and to be at leisure with your thoughts. sending love as always and a huge hug. xoxoxox
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
travelers
cleo is the lovliest woman i met in yoga class. she has been traveling all over the world for the past 2 1/2 years and is such an insperation. so many travelers here have been far from "home" for years or many months. they are all searching for adenture or seeking peace and truth within their lives.
joanne is the australiam woman who is traveling on her own and with a group all over india. she has her own yog astudi in sydney and i helper her splint her finger the other day. we melted a popsicle stick and i busted out my first aid kit and the next thing ya know i am feeling like i am embodying scenes from shantaram. we got to talking and we had a great connection. i loved her smile
sanjay, a local bit who fixed my shoe and then asked for my hand inn marriage. he had a hand full of missing fingers form being brutilized as a street kid, but says he is now happy fixing shoes in himachal pradsh, love him.
mikko and karrissa from the netherlands who took me out on the town and really know how to have fun. they were my neighbors for a few nights. we would sit on the patio and watch the monkeys steal and play with clothes that hung on lines from nearby windows.
then there is the brit, the aussie couple, the kiwi, thomas and claire from france, jeff the MIT grad who is exploring consciousnesss, parvati, karsh, alyse form SF, Franca the loving italian from spain and pabloo the cab driver.
without all these new friends and many more strangers i would have been lost in this massive country. Depsite the 1.6 billion people, sometimes i feel as if i am totally alone.
i have had many hours to contemplate my life and i still have no idea what i am doing. however i am fully aware that we are not alone on our journies. we are accompanied by friends, by family, by strangers and God. Last night before i went to sleep i said a prayer. as i began to speak i felt as though the moon shone a little brighter and the tall trees on this mountain leaned in to listen. I asked to keep me safe, to help me find my way and to continue to keep all those i love and am yet to love safe and free.thank you for keeping me in your thoughts and this journey is yours too.
joanne is the australiam woman who is traveling on her own and with a group all over india. she has her own yog astudi in sydney and i helper her splint her finger the other day. we melted a popsicle stick and i busted out my first aid kit and the next thing ya know i am feeling like i am embodying scenes from shantaram. we got to talking and we had a great connection. i loved her smile
sanjay, a local bit who fixed my shoe and then asked for my hand inn marriage. he had a hand full of missing fingers form being brutilized as a street kid, but says he is now happy fixing shoes in himachal pradsh, love him.
mikko and karrissa from the netherlands who took me out on the town and really know how to have fun. they were my neighbors for a few nights. we would sit on the patio and watch the monkeys steal and play with clothes that hung on lines from nearby windows.
then there is the brit, the aussie couple, the kiwi, thomas and claire from france, jeff the MIT grad who is exploring consciousnesss, parvati, karsh, alyse form SF, Franca the loving italian from spain and pabloo the cab driver.
without all these new friends and many more strangers i would have been lost in this massive country. Depsite the 1.6 billion people, sometimes i feel as if i am totally alone.
i have had many hours to contemplate my life and i still have no idea what i am doing. however i am fully aware that we are not alone on our journies. we are accompanied by friends, by family, by strangers and God. Last night before i went to sleep i said a prayer. as i began to speak i felt as though the moon shone a little brighter and the tall trees on this mountain leaned in to listen. I asked to keep me safe, to help me find my way and to continue to keep all those i love and am yet to love safe and free.thank you for keeping me in your thoughts and this journey is yours too.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
where the old wind blows
life in mcleod ganji and bahgsu and are to be loved and cherished. after the bustling city life i am so settled in this himalyian village. the ride here was of course crazy but i expect crazy now.
in amristar i was planning on getting the fastest bus straight straight to dharamshala, home of the dhali lama, but the wind would have it otherwise. of course the direct bus had been cancelled that day, no reason, just cancelled. so my only option was to get on a bus headed to gagaal, close but 2 bus stops away from dharamshala. so i got on the bus which was built circa 1975 and said to myself here wego.ok so a breif note on state buses. we are talking straight out of a movie. these are funky, smelly and packed with people. 3 in a row, your jammed into an upright position with little room to breath for about 8 hours. for this reaon alone i can see now why inidans can meditate for so long. the only way to survive these long sweaty bus rides is to comletely remove yourself from the sitaution and check out.
but dont check out for to long, becasue on the less traversed tourist routes there is really no way of knowing where you are. the bus pulls up on the side of the road in a village with an enegetic voltage that makes your head spin, by the time you can read a sign that can clue you into where you might be, the bus has already taken off. ohhh and let me spend a scentence or two on the cruise director of the bus, the ticket collecter. this man runs the show. equipped with the loudest whistle invented, he corrdinates the exchange of money and tickets via the entire bus, we are his workers, helping to exchange money, maneuver luggage, carry small children across the backs of seats to their parents, pass food, and water. at each stop he blows the whistle and when people get on he blows the whislte to alert the driver, whom you can barely see if your in the back, taht all legs and arms are in and it is time to hustle. love these guys they are like little bus master and make it all work.
ok back to the story. so i get dropped off in gagaal, a random village in the middle of nowhere. i took me an hour to find it on the lonely planet map. anyhow now it is like 8 om, dark and there i am standing in a bowl of dust looking for the next bus to dharamshala.completely lost and confused, but so calm and like whatever. i look up and the enitre bus is shouting and pointing to the bus i need to be on, ahh the power of the blank stare!!
now here nestled in this windy,m cool and majestic place. i spend mornings in 2 hour yoga classes. i read on balconys of funky restaurants, drink chai, and play backggamon with other tourists. I can tell you all would love it here and i can see myself chatting in the cool breeze with you. sending love with old wind, hope it finds you soon.
in amristar i was planning on getting the fastest bus straight straight to dharamshala, home of the dhali lama, but the wind would have it otherwise. of course the direct bus had been cancelled that day, no reason, just cancelled. so my only option was to get on a bus headed to gagaal, close but 2 bus stops away from dharamshala. so i got on the bus which was built circa 1975 and said to myself here wego.ok so a breif note on state buses. we are talking straight out of a movie. these are funky, smelly and packed with people. 3 in a row, your jammed into an upright position with little room to breath for about 8 hours. for this reaon alone i can see now why inidans can meditate for so long. the only way to survive these long sweaty bus rides is to comletely remove yourself from the sitaution and check out.
but dont check out for to long, becasue on the less traversed tourist routes there is really no way of knowing where you are. the bus pulls up on the side of the road in a village with an enegetic voltage that makes your head spin, by the time you can read a sign that can clue you into where you might be, the bus has already taken off. ohhh and let me spend a scentence or two on the cruise director of the bus, the ticket collecter. this man runs the show. equipped with the loudest whistle invented, he corrdinates the exchange of money and tickets via the entire bus, we are his workers, helping to exchange money, maneuver luggage, carry small children across the backs of seats to their parents, pass food, and water. at each stop he blows the whistle and when people get on he blows the whislte to alert the driver, whom you can barely see if your in the back, taht all legs and arms are in and it is time to hustle. love these guys they are like little bus master and make it all work.
ok back to the story. so i get dropped off in gagaal, a random village in the middle of nowhere. i took me an hour to find it on the lonely planet map. anyhow now it is like 8 om, dark and there i am standing in a bowl of dust looking for the next bus to dharamshala.completely lost and confused, but so calm and like whatever. i look up and the enitre bus is shouting and pointing to the bus i need to be on, ahh the power of the blank stare!!
now here nestled in this windy,m cool and majestic place. i spend mornings in 2 hour yoga classes. i read on balconys of funky restaurants, drink chai, and play backggamon with other tourists. I can tell you all would love it here and i can see myself chatting in the cool breeze with you. sending love with old wind, hope it finds you soon.
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