It's been such a challenge finding wifi here. The one eventually set up by our organisers is just not useful. Hence the days passing with no blog postings.
Now.... back to India.
They say doing a training like this as in intensive, or as they refer to it, An Immersion, is a brave and crazy thing to do. Adding into the equation, doing An Immersion in Rishikesh India, is bordering on Insanity. No one actually used the word Insanity, but I know from the way they sighed, rolled their eyes and showed just a wee touch of cruel smile at the corners of their lips that this is going to be a roller coaster ride indeed.
As mentioned before, the days are pretty full, and there's little time left over for anything other than eating, sleeping (and not too much of that), washing and trying to keep a semblance of order in my clothes pile. From 4am every morning we're gathered in our magnificent white tent, on our mats with blankets aplenty to keep us warm. Outside the wind has been quite strong and we hear the commotion of monkeys surrounding us, longing to get into the tents to join us. There's a team of Indian men who roam around outside with long sticks shrieking, howling and growling at the monkeys to try keep them away from us. It as least gives me a feeling I'm somewhere wild. Mind you, it's pretty much like baboon watchers at home sans the high pitch screaming. This afternoon in the food tent a young monkey climbed into the roof of our tent, and then directly above someones table scratched a little hole in the cloth and proceeded to rip a tear just big enough to poke his head through and gaze wildly down at a plate of food. Destructive little buggers. There was much screaming and jumping about, by humans, and little monkey was eventually chased away by Indian monkey chasing men.
The Amazing Gurmukh arrives during the day, bejewelled and looking divine to lead us in unbelievably inspiring yoga classes. Her husband, the stern looking GurShabad leads the early morning sessions as well as the history of Kundalini and the lineage through which it comes. The meaning of striving for an enlightened state of being and all the trimmings and trappings therein. We watched video the other day of the infamous Yogi Bhajan who came out of India in the 60's to present Kundalini Yoga to the west and specifically to the bunch of Hippies living the good life in California. I've very mixed feeling about the man and his methodology, but I'm willing to let it rest for a while and percolate without passing judgement. I desperately miss my darling friend Micky now. I know we'd be able to thrash out some brilliant talks about Yoga/Religion/Mysticism/Fanaticism/Spirituality and Irreverence. Mostly we'd just send up a lot of this, enjoy the gems and have a damn good time.
Talking of good times, my coffee set up is working Brilliantly. AeroPress and a kilogram of excellent coffee from Cape Town. What a win. I scurry back to my room after the early morning session, just before 7am. Boil the kettle (lent to me by Krishna, a shop keeper in the main street (lane actually. Lane with stalls, eateries, cows, dogs, motorbikes, beggers, saddus, some tourists, various questionable looking westerners who may or may not have lost their way home, and a host of enthusiastic shop keepers trying to seduce you to enter their places)
Oh, did I mention that I brought a can of condensed milk? Yes yes yes, a true coffee expert would shudder, but trust me on this. It's India. And I do need a little sweet. And I do need milk in my coffee, so EISH!!! It's so good.
I'm feeling strong. Managing the yoga very well, though hours sitting on the mat can get quite uncomfortable. I take some of the extreme stuff with a pinch of salt, and love all the rest. Perhaps it's one of the joys of growing a little older. I'm not intimidated by pomp and ceremony and I certainly don't buy into any fear based authority. So even a Great Yogi telling me that I'll be reincarnated as a dog if I stuff up, just doesn't faze me. Besides, if anything, I know I'll come back as a cat which is by far more to my liking. It's easy for me to call a crock of bull what it is, but I do see many sweet young impressionable faces here, and some old ones too. And I see some people going through intense processes because this is a kind of initiation here, and it takes some doing.
Right now, some serious weather has set in and seems to be staying for about 3 days. Crap! Hectic strong winds, Rain Rain Rain, and flipping cold. And the hot water stopped in my room. Again. India huh.
More tomorrow, as I try catch up.
Sat Nam.
Now.... back to India.
They say doing a training like this as in intensive, or as they refer to it, An Immersion, is a brave and crazy thing to do. Adding into the equation, doing An Immersion in Rishikesh India, is bordering on Insanity. No one actually used the word Insanity, but I know from the way they sighed, rolled their eyes and showed just a wee touch of cruel smile at the corners of their lips that this is going to be a roller coaster ride indeed.
As mentioned before, the days are pretty full, and there's little time left over for anything other than eating, sleeping (and not too much of that), washing and trying to keep a semblance of order in my clothes pile. From 4am every morning we're gathered in our magnificent white tent, on our mats with blankets aplenty to keep us warm. Outside the wind has been quite strong and we hear the commotion of monkeys surrounding us, longing to get into the tents to join us. There's a team of Indian men who roam around outside with long sticks shrieking, howling and growling at the monkeys to try keep them away from us. It as least gives me a feeling I'm somewhere wild. Mind you, it's pretty much like baboon watchers at home sans the high pitch screaming. This afternoon in the food tent a young monkey climbed into the roof of our tent, and then directly above someones table scratched a little hole in the cloth and proceeded to rip a tear just big enough to poke his head through and gaze wildly down at a plate of food. Destructive little buggers. There was much screaming and jumping about, by humans, and little monkey was eventually chased away by Indian monkey chasing men.
The Amazing Gurmukh arrives during the day, bejewelled and looking divine to lead us in unbelievably inspiring yoga classes. Her husband, the stern looking GurShabad leads the early morning sessions as well as the history of Kundalini and the lineage through which it comes. The meaning of striving for an enlightened state of being and all the trimmings and trappings therein. We watched video the other day of the infamous Yogi Bhajan who came out of India in the 60's to present Kundalini Yoga to the west and specifically to the bunch of Hippies living the good life in California. I've very mixed feeling about the man and his methodology, but I'm willing to let it rest for a while and percolate without passing judgement. I desperately miss my darling friend Micky now. I know we'd be able to thrash out some brilliant talks about Yoga/Religion/Mysticism/Fanaticism/Spirituality and Irreverence. Mostly we'd just send up a lot of this, enjoy the gems and have a damn good time.
Talking of good times, my coffee set up is working Brilliantly. AeroPress and a kilogram of excellent coffee from Cape Town. What a win. I scurry back to my room after the early morning session, just before 7am. Boil the kettle (lent to me by Krishna, a shop keeper in the main street (lane actually. Lane with stalls, eateries, cows, dogs, motorbikes, beggers, saddus, some tourists, various questionable looking westerners who may or may not have lost their way home, and a host of enthusiastic shop keepers trying to seduce you to enter their places)
Oh, did I mention that I brought a can of condensed milk? Yes yes yes, a true coffee expert would shudder, but trust me on this. It's India. And I do need a little sweet. And I do need milk in my coffee, so EISH!!! It's so good.
I'm feeling strong. Managing the yoga very well, though hours sitting on the mat can get quite uncomfortable. I take some of the extreme stuff with a pinch of salt, and love all the rest. Perhaps it's one of the joys of growing a little older. I'm not intimidated by pomp and ceremony and I certainly don't buy into any fear based authority. So even a Great Yogi telling me that I'll be reincarnated as a dog if I stuff up, just doesn't faze me. Besides, if anything, I know I'll come back as a cat which is by far more to my liking. It's easy for me to call a crock of bull what it is, but I do see many sweet young impressionable faces here, and some old ones too. And I see some people going through intense processes because this is a kind of initiation here, and it takes some doing.
Right now, some serious weather has set in and seems to be staying for about 3 days. Crap! Hectic strong winds, Rain Rain Rain, and flipping cold. And the hot water stopped in my room. Again. India huh.
More tomorrow, as I try catch up.
Sat Nam.
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