A Month in Mysore

by Kellye Johnson

As I heard the words of my yoga teacher announcing the planning of a trip to Mysore, India to study with the master of the form of yoga I had been practicing for nearly two years, I looked down at my feet thinking that I shouldn’t even begin to entertain the possibility of making that journey. The cost of the airfare alone was more money than I had ever possessed at one time.  Besides, I could not allow myself to believe that I was worthy of something so great as to receive teaching from a great yogi like K. Pattabhi Jois. I went home after class filled with anguish that this experience that I so craved was not for me to have. My fiancé asked me what was wrong and through my tears I tried to explain to him the urgency that I felt to get to India and my sorrow at knowing it was absolutely impossible for me to go.

I didn’t really understand why I so urgently needed to get to India. I had learned in the time that I had been practicing Ashtanga Yoga that to truly have this practice, it was necessary to learn it from K. Pattabhi Jois, the man who had mastered and developed it over many decades, and I would have to go to him in order to do that. It was a nice dream, but I believed I would just have to learn what I could from my teacher who went yearly to study with him. However, as soon as it occurred to me that I must go myself, some how, some way, the means became available.

As it so happened, my fiancé still owned a house back in Louisiana that he was planning to sell. In the event that the house sold soon enough, he offered to give me part of the proceeds to pay for my airfare. I couldn’t believe it. I really would be able to go to India.

I had many months to prepare. I read books about etiquette in India to make sure I didn’t unwittingly do anything horribly offensive. I got all of my shots, my passport and visa. I was terrified of going. I feared I would get sick. I feared K. Pattabhi Jois would yell at me or not accept me as a student. I feared that I would feel alone traveling with people I didn’t know. I feared that I would not have enough money or I would lose my money or that I would lose my passport. I was afraid of monkeys and snakes and other wild things. I was afraid I might relapse on alcohol so far from home and unable to get to a 12-step meeting or call my sponsor. I was afraid I would change too much and that I might lose relationships of great importance to me. For all of my fear and anxiety, none of those things happened. I did end up feeling alone in the group I traveled with, but that was caused by own self-centered fears, anxieties and misperceptions rather than because of anyone or anything else.

I was scared speechless-- I was so freaked out as we boarded the plane from Louisville to Detroit. In Detroit my anxiety abated slightly as we found a restaurant in the airport and had dinner before getting our flight to Amsterdam. I continued to feel some paralysis as a result of my fear, but there was no backing out. The flight to Amsterdam was long. We flew into the sunrise so our “night” was very brief and I could not sleep. We left Amsterdam heading for New Delhi on an even longer flight. I was able to sleep intermittently, but it was very uncomfortable and I felt awful from profound anxiety. As we approached New Delhi, there were terrible storms and we went through some very intense turbulence. I just knew I was going to die and I kept closing my eyes and praying. I was scared, but ready to accept whatever was going to happen. There were many Indians on the plane and some would call out the names of personal deities when we would hit a bad pocket of turbulence. We finally had to fly to another city to land, refuel and wait for the storms to pass so we could land in New Delhi. Once we finally landed, I walked into the airport with great relief and awe. I had never been to another country and was quite in shock. We had to change airports to get yet another flight to Bangalore. While changing airports, some young boys kept trying to take my bags and carry them so they could demand payment and I wouldn’t let them. I was terrified of losing my bags or getting mugged. After much waiting in “line” (shapeless cluster is more like it) and getting frisked, we boarded the small plane to Bangalore. We landed and emerged from the airport to find a beautiful, warm sunny day. The skies were blue, the trees were filled with red flowers and our car was waiting to take us to Mysore. I vaguely remember a somewhat bumpy trip through the Indian countryside. I dozed off and on, waking every few minutes to make sure I wasn’t falling over onto the person next to me. I felt as though I had landed on another planet. The rock cliffs in the distance were oddly shaped and rounded unlike any I’d ever seen. I kept my eyes open for monkeys but didn’t see any.

 When we finally arrived in Mysore, we came to the house of the Rao family. They are a Brahmin family and have made a nice business out of taking care of the westerners who come to Mysore to study yoga. Nagarathna presented us with her special fruit salad as she welcomed us. I was in a complete daze and didn’t quite know what to do or how to be. I only knew that it was good to be on the ground and not moving. We were taken to our flat, which turned out to be the second floor of a nice house close to the yoga shala. It was open and spacious. We washed up and prepared to go see K. Pattabhi Jois. We walked to his yoga school a few short blocks from where we were staying. Leaving our shoes at the door, we went inside and sat on the floor of a tiny room and looked expectantly at a bamboo chair that was reserved for Guruji. I struggled to maintain consciousness and couldn’t help but nod off more than once as we waited. Finally, K. Pattabhi Jois came in and sat down. I couldn’t understand much of anything he said and I vaguely remember he seemed amused that we came from a place called Kentucky. Beyond that, I can’t remember much of that first night there. It was all a haze of flowering trees and brightly colored saris.

 Because Guruji was off for several days, we had to wait to begin practice with him. In the mean time, we practiced together in our house and spent a lot of time in sari shops. I mostly felt anxious and unsettled and disconnected from everyone and everything. I could not seem to snap out of it. I finally was able to connect with some people at home via the Internet. I also kept a web page journal updated so they could check up on me. I could share my experiences with them and they could know I was safe.

 My friends and family back home were very concerned about our safety. My mother even organized a prayer circle to pray for us. When we left for India, things had become very tense between the states of India and Pakistan. There was discussion of using nuclear weapons and my family and friends tried to persuade me not to go. Foreigners had been advised to leave India. The atmosphere in Mysore was calm, however. People were happily going about their daily routines unconcerned. No one in Mysore really believed there was any danger and so I felt safe from decimation.

 The timing of our trip was very fortunate. Guruji and Sharath were preparing to have a ceremony for the opening of their new yoga shala in Gokulum, a suburb outside of the main town where Guruji and his family lived. Some of their most accomplished students had come from all over the world to be present for the event. The women went to the sari shops and bought salwar kameese (tunic-like blouse with matching drawstring pants) to wear to the event. I decided to wait until I bought all of my gifts for others before buying anything for myself. I had only brought clothes for yoga and polo shirts and khaki pants. I figured I would look a little out of place amid the saris and salwar kameese at the opening ceremony, but it would be all right. I laid down to try to take a nap one afternoon while my housemates were out shopping. I couldn’t quite sleep and I kept having an image in my mind of a yellow salwar kameese and I realized that two of my traveling companions were bringing it to me. I dismissed it as an overactive imagination due to too much chai. Yet when they returned, one of them handed me a brown bag and inside was a yellow salwar kameese. I was stunned. I was shocked and perplexed that I had the knowledge of it before it happened. 

 The day of the opening ceremony we arrived at the new shala. It had a canopy of woven palm tree leaves draped with flowers. There were so many sets of shoes on the steps. Inside the new yoga shala, there were Brahmin priests in white tending a fire into which they offered various things. The main practice room was filled with smoke that would purify it. We had a feast of food (called prasad) that had been blessed by Guruji. It was ladled out from large pails onto banana leaves. We also received gifts of coconuts blessed by Guruji and a commemorative book about his life and work.

 After the meal, I went and sat on the ground outside with my housemates and quietly read the book about Guruji. As I read, I felt an energy rising up in me, up into my heart and face and then spreading outward and completely through me. It was so intense for a moment I thought I would swoon and struggled to stay sitting upright. Perhaps it was a burst of prana or shakti. Perhaps it was just the heat or jet lag. 

 A couple of days later, we finally got to begin doing our yoga practice with Guruji at the old shala. We arrived at the time we were assigned to practice. We sat on the stairs waiting our turn. When a mat space came available Guruji would call out “One more”. I was so nervous. I hadn’t been practicing regularly back at home and had no idea where I should stop or if I would get to go through all of the standing poses. When it was finally my turn I hesitated, paralyzed by fear-- not sure if I was really next. I went in the room and put my mat down facing the wrong way and then Sharath came over and told me to face the other way. I stood at the front of my mat, hands at my heart in prayer position and silently intoned the ashtanga mantra. Then as I dropped my hands, turned on my bandhas, began ujayyi breathing, inhaled taking my hands up, whoosh, something in me ingnited. It was like the lighting of pilot light on a furnace or gas stove. The fuel was there already, and the flame made contact. I made it through the whole practice and received one adjustment (utthita hasta padangustasana) the first day. I made my way upstairs for the finishing poses wetter with sweat than I had ever been and waited for a place to open up for me to do my finishing poses. I went through the sarvangasana cycle, sirsasana and so on and found that I was crying with gratitude to have made it to this place. I couldn’t believe I was really there.

 Our days in Mysore began with most of us gathering around the kitchen table for our morning chywanprash and then chanting the Guru Gita together in our main living room area. The bathrooms in our flat had sinks and toilets but not showers or bath tubs. We had to use large buckets with a cup to pour water (cold!) over ourselves to bathe. Laundry also involved buckets full of cold water and hanging clothes out to dry on a back landing. After morning practice, we would gather at Nagarathna’s house for breakfast and compare what adjustments we got that day from Guruji and Sharath. After breakfast we would go back to the flat and get cleaned and change clothes. Some might go shopping or sight seeing, others might stay behind and read or do some writing. One housemate would treat us to late morning concerts on her recorders. In the evenings we would sit out on our porch and watch the clouds roll in for the daily rains. If we watched closely, we might see a flock of bright green parrots flying overhead. We would make periodic trips to the bank to change money or to the neighborhood grocery in search of chocolate. Once or twice a week, we would go to the Southern Star Hotel to use the swimming pool and get hot showers.

 Late one morning after practice, some of my housemates were going to see the Maharajah’s palace. I was supposed to go but was feeling particularly wiped out from my practice that morning and stayed behind. I tried to nap with no success and so got up and decided a nice, cold bucket bath would enliven me. When I finished my bath and came into my room, I noticed the door was closed. I went to open it and found that I had been locked in my room. I knocked on it a few times, listened to see if I could hear anyone in the house and realized everyone had gone. I checked the windows to see if the metal bars would come off, but to no avail. I finally wrote the combination to the padlock on my door on a slip of paper and slid it under the door hoping someone would find it when arriving home and taking their shoes off near my door. I decided to practice chanting the Guru Gita while I waited. After and hour or longer, I heard people talking and laughing on their way up the stairs. They found my note and freed me. I wasn’t at all upset. In fact, it made me realize that I had been taking myself way too seriously and I was pretty amused by it. My housemates who had accidentally locked me in treated me to a tour of the palace and lunch the next day to make it up to me. Little did they know that they had done me a favor by locking me in my room.

 When we arrived at the palace for our tour, the elephants were out exercising. There were three of them and they seemed to be freckled pink and gray. We were lucky to get to have our pictures taken with them. Our tour guide was a Muslim gentleman who was wearing quite a lot of rose oil. He guided us through the opulent palace and detailed the history of different rooms. It was magnificent. There were clouds and stars on the ceiling and domes of stained glass peacocks. There were paintings of different generations of the Maharajah’s family (the Wodeyars) and also of deities. There was a hall of paintings that would change perspective as the viewer passed them. At the left of the painting, the scene would directly face the viewer. After passing the painting and standing on its right side, the scene would still directly face the viewer. After touring the palace itself, we walked around the grounds and met a group of Indian tourists who thought we were French and wanted their picture taken with us. We found the elephants’ quarters and the trainer was using his whip to try to get an elephant to do tricks for us. That was of course unbearable and we left the quarters so the trainer would stop. Then we came upon the Maharajah’s bodyguard. He wore a large turban and jodhpurs. We wanted our picture taken with him but had no more film. He asked for a pen and I handed him one, curious to see what he was going to write with it. He tested it, and apparently considered it a gift because he then stuck it in his breast pocket. For some reason, ink pens were a hot commodity in Mysore. Little boys were especially fond of them. If I return, I will take a large supply of them with me to give away.

           Before leaving the palace grounds, we went into one of the temples. I think it was a Vishnu temple. We were blessed by the priest and received red bindi dots on our foreheads. We then went to lunch at the Southern Star. It was a lovely day.

           I had heard there would be monkeys everywhere, but didn’t see any the first couple of weeks. I finally got to see a large troop of them crossing the alley. There were so many of these little brown monkeys scrambling over fences and rooftops. Many of the females had babies clinging to their underbellies. They were a little scary to me even though they were small. They seemed to possess intelligence, cunning, and I suspected they might do anything. I doubted they would find me very intimidating. The alleys were full of inhabitants: crows, cows, horses, dogs and occasional bands of monkeys passing through. One day as I was walking out the front gate to go to the Internet café (or “Internet Cowshed” as some of my house mates called it), I found myself in the middle of two Brahmin bulls. I realized the danger of my situation and gingerly stepped back inside the gate and backed up towards the door. The bulls seemed to charge at each other in slow motion, half heartedly locked horns and then walked away from each other. Crossing the street was also a dangerous endeavor. I never could quite decipher the road rules in India. It seem to be some sort of free for all where the only rule is to not hit anything.

           Practicing daily with Guruji was such a treat. My practice deepened immediately and I found my body doing things I never dreamed it would do. I eventually got to where I could do Marichyasana D unassisted and was getting closer to Supta kurmasana each day. In spite of not being able to do that pose, Guruji still had me doing backbends with him. I never did figure out if it was because he didn’t notice that I still couldn’t clasp in Supta kurmasana or because he though I needed to do backbends for some reason. I guess I should have asked him. Guruji and Sharath were both very down to earth, approachable and really sweet. I had no reservations about touching Guruji’s feet and hugging and kissing him. It just seemed the natural thing to do. One of my traveling companions characterized him well by likening practice with him to be like doing yoga with Santa Claus. Guruji just has this special glow in his face, a twinkle in his eyes and he even says “ho, ho, ho.” He really loves his students. He is know for saying “bad man” or “bad lady” when someone makes a mistake, but he doesn’t really mean it. It is all very good-natured. Sharath was a lot stricter even though he too is very good natured, sweet and humble. They both rightly inspire a sort of reverence and respect for their dedication to making this their life’s work.

           One of my favorite experiences in Mysore was provided by our rickshaw driver.  He was a very handsome young man who so loved the woman he married that he converted from Hinduism to Christianity for her. He looked like he could be a movie star. He had befriended a member of our party on her last trip there and he made himself available to take us on many excursions. He invited us to his home on our last night there. His wife made the best chai I had in India. The meal was very good and it was very precious to be invited into their humble home where they shared their food and their lives with us.

By the time we were to leave India, I had finally become comfortable there and could not imagine what life back home would be like. The trip home seemed somehow not as long as the trip to get there. I was glad to get home, but when I arrived, there was something altogether bland about the landscape. It seemed so barren and desolate compared to the onslaught on my senses that India had been. Nearly two years later, India seems like a dream. I have to ask myself sometimes if it really happened. Was I really there? I know that I was because I have the pictures to prove it. Yet there is still so much that I don’t understand. I still don’t really know why I went. Perhaps the only answer is that I went because I wanted to. I keep looking for that mystical thing that will make it all make sense, and maybe what will make it all make sense is just to find a way to do my practice. Afterall, Guruji says, “Do your practice and all is coming”. Guruji is a man of few words. Somehow I think that when he says “all”, he really means it.

Mysore Experience

by Lavenia McDaniel

Feb 2, 2004 – March 5, 2004

Many students have asked what was Mysore like? Did you receive “Enlightment”? How has your practice deepened? Sometimes in my mind the experience is hard to convey in words, yet the feelings and experiences are sometimes beyond words. Words that resonate within me to convey are “alignment” “Energy” & intense Vibration. Manifestation of thoughts and embraced by love, in a land that is like no other.

 Since beginning practice at Yoga East I have always “dreamed” about traveling to Mysore, India to study with “Pattabi Jois” & Sharath.  Even though in my mind I did not see at the time how that was possible with a husband, full-time work scheduled vacation time, and limited income. Yet deep in my heart was a stirring and heart felt wish, desire and dream to travel to India and deepen practice? Something one of the teacher trainees shared with me that stays in my mind is that “when you ask the universe will open and make a way”. Laura often shares that “with practice all is coming”; I had no idea to what extent.

Graduating from teacher training was only the beginning of many changes that would unfold in my life. Right into the Mysore Experience. Family, friends, students encouraged me as the plan began to unfold. Initially I had plans to travel with Laura and other students. Laura’s plans changed because the new Bonnycastle studio was under construction, so Mysore would be canceled until summer. Yet in my heart I felt a pull and deep desire to travel in February. Many students supported and encouraged me! Karen who had traveled to Mysore would email me on things to take, what to do, and basically assisted me step by step with the traveling process. Even though I had not raised the amount of money planned, my faith did not waiver.  Bobby surprised me one day and said he felt that I was suppose to travel to Mysore to study and he literally paid for the airline travel, a yoga retreat was initiated at Immaculate of Mary on a love offering bases. The retreat was one that touched my heart and all attendees said we should initiate one once a month! (The retreat donation assisted in paying for shots needed and passport)..

Next concern? Traveling alone to another country, and once again the universe began to unfold the plan. Girish who is a student at Yoga East, and one of the students in class at LG&E where I taught just happened to be in Bankalore; are their really coincidences and chance meetings? (Manifestation of our subliminal and subconscious desires unfold) Laura passed on emails, and he told me not to worry, he would pick me up from the airport in Banklaore, India, and assist me to Mysore. That was another confirmation. Sisters In Spirit held a special purification ceremony a week before departure. A “Very special Day” in my life, similar to a “Rites of Passage”.  Pictures are attached of that ceremony. Moving truly from the space of “letting go,  letting God” and “Trusting the Process”.

I did question at times my level of practice and where I was at Marychiasana C, and utthita hasta padangustasana. What brought comfort were Laura’s encouragement and the thought of Pattabi Jois & Sharath love for yoga and teaching. 

 The Other Side of Midnight - Departure

The flight departing St.Paul was late because of the recent snowstorm, so additional time was taken in de-icing the plane. I said a silent prayer for the pilots, and all passengers before take off. First landing was in Amsterdam, and then on to Mumbai, India.

Now that was a journey. Arrived in Mumbai tired, exhausted, and ready to find plane to Bankalore, this place was hot humid, and mosquitoes you could actually hear them buzzing and circling for the dive! Time to divert “thoughts and energy”.  Noticed two “western ladies with backpacks similar to the one I had on and one even had a pillow, we talked for awhile and they were just as tired traveling from Atlanta to study with “Guruji”, yet they were having to wait outside and go through official initiation into Mumbai, they also were purchasing tickets to Bankalore and airport guards were “aggressive” and enjoying the repore.  Boarded a Domestic airport bus to terminal to catch flight to Bankalore and was told that I had to return to International airport because my luggage was not checked to Bankalore. (This is what Laura was trying to prepare me for, bless her heart) It’s 3:30AM in the morning and the bus would not be available in time for me to make the flight to Bankalore. Indian security is everywhere and I ask what should I do? Suggestion in broken English, take a “rickshaw” back to the airport. Made a quick currency exchange so I would have rupees to pay, and ready for next venture?  The driver wore white and talked a lot, I just wanted to get the luggage. The drive appeared to be a long one this time, and I found myself questioning where I was going. We passed homeless people living on the street, beggars laying on tables, and standing on the corner. He asked me if I wanted to stop and give them money and actually was slowing down (once again a silent prayer) This was not the time at 4Am to stop in an area I was unfamiliar with to give money, so I firmly raised monotone and requested he just take me to the airport now or I’ll call out policio!” Message received, we were returning to airport to pick up luggage and then returned on time to catch the flight. The question was how much? Since I did not ask him to turn the meter on, I had no idea the amount owed. He watched me as I started to count the rupees and said give me the $500 one and reply was no, then he said well give me 100 rupees, once again the amount was questioned, yet I did not want to miss flight so I paid. Once on the plane, exhausted, tired, and frustrated with whole experience I calmed down enough to look for the lesson and move on. Clarity on currency exchange was one non-attachment another?

 The Arrival

The flight to Bankalore arrived on time around 4:30 AM and it was such relief seeing Girish at the airport (after traveling two days), waiting as I picked up luggage. A driver assisted me with baggage and we were taken to his parent’s home in Bankalore. His mother is beautiful and very “warm”, dressed in a light brown sari. They welcomed me and showed me the room I could shower and rest in. I took a shower, changed clothes. As I was lying on the bed I heard a crow, and  stepped out on terrace into the morning sunshine to see what the kaking was about. Looking up into the clear blue sky a bald eagle was flying right over my head…its wings spread wide riding gentle the currents of the wind. At that moment I felt recharged with energy and was ready to head for Mysore. Before leaving his mother fixed a traditional Indian breakfast with Chenupes, rice cakes, tali, chutney, the food was delicious! Girish made a couple of calls to check on train departure to Mysore and I sat out on the terrace feeling the vibrations of the morning. A huge bodhi tree sat on the corner branches extending in each direction reaching up towards the sky, rickshaws & bikes glided by effortlessly on dirt road, pink and yellow flowers adorned the streets, along with tall coconut trees.  I watched a woman combing her hair on balcony, and women walking down the street in blue and yellow sari, with a basket on her head, very graceful tadasana. Beige and white cow with horns and ring in nose stops in front of the house, as a deliveryman on a bike pauses to drop off papers, soft horns blow in the distance.

 Mysore Arrival

Girish along with his daughter Maya accompanied me to the train station and off to Mysore. The train ride was about two hours, past vivid rice field, temples, and lush green countryside. We arrive in Mysore in mid afternoon. A friend picks us up and  takes me to the Shala. It is beautiful granite ashram three stories high and inviting. Entering I feel the energy. Guruji is sitting at his desk with a white T-shirt, cell phone that rings “yankee doodle” and is counting money. I give him a copy of letter, pay tuition, and chocolates I bought for him in Amsterdam. He said he likes the box it’s in, and I hope it’s not chocolate! Next time I’ll bring a crystal! Sharath smiles (in my mind I’m thinking, does he remember me from Louisville?Right J Guruji tells me as I exit to be at practice at 7AM.

I am ready for a shower and bed! It’s been over 48 hours without sleep and my body feels in over-drive. One of the ladies I meet outside the shala suggests I contact “Shiva” he is known to find housing for westerners. Girish takes me to the Green Hotel where I decide to rest for a few days before finding housing.

 The Shala

I woke up early 4:30AM without alarm that was the first, took a shower, dressed, mediated and proceeded to take a rickshaw for the Shala first practice at 7AM. Energy & vibrations could be felt!  Remove shoes and enter; I can hear Guruji counting practice has already begun. Feeling a little discouraged I walked out the gate to the coconut stand, an older Indian woman was crossing the street and I asked how long ago had practice started, we talked for a moment and she suggested I come inside. At the time I had no idea this was his granddaughter “Saraswati” Upstairs six other students were preparing for class. First practice was led and was adjusted in “Uttita Hasta Padagustasana”, Marichiasan C & D, and kumansasa. Mindful practice and her spirit is “strong, fire, yet gentle”.  Saraswati suggested "be at Shala at 6AM tomorrow."

Stopped at the coconut stand outside of Shala and enjoyed very first coconut water (I thought the juice would be white, it was clear as water, refreshing, and said to be high in electrolytes and very healthy.

Manifestation

Standing at the coconut stand savoring the moment in time, and thinking about the man name Shiva and a reasonable place to stay. A woman introduced herself (Nancy) and suggested I call “Shiva”; Took her number  and decided to stay at the Green Hotel until I contacted Shiva.

A rickshaw took me back to the Green Hotel for 20 rupees, showered, and was ready for breakfast. They actually served some Western food such as omelets on request with potatoes, fresh papaya, pineapple, oranges, watermelon, curd, and chapatti.

Looking into the garden and feeling the rays of sunshine upon face, thinking and feeling India. Second journal entry:

2^nd Journal Entry

            Awoke at 3:30Am, contemplating actions of yesterday, and where I am today.” It is not the Destination but the Journey that matters”. Signs and wonderful gifts God has given each of us. Reflecting on the journey from Bankalore to Mysore. Train ride, poverty of people, yet rich in spirit. Many live in sparse conditions yet strong spirit, a quiet rhythm. One does not have to journey to India for enlightment, that which is already within cultivate that which lives inside of you, moving from the heart and allow “Holy Spirit” within to guide you.

  Completing journal entry decided to take a nap, was heading towards room, when I felt a strong pulling to return to table, as I turned around a young woman was sitting at the table smiling, she introduced herself “Stacy” from NY, staying also at the Green Hotel but looking for an apartment. We finally called Shiva and were told to meet him in front of Shala in an hour. We took a rickshaw and as we got out of one rickshaw into Shiva’s, which had the Om symbol, he wore a long orange loongy and his presence was heartfelt. Two blocks up the street from Shala, he showed us a house with a bedroom with two beds, padlock doors, kitchen, mediation room, shower & bathroom, with a squatter that I adjusted to in no time. On the same street as Shala, for 7,500 rupees (which actually averaged when split around $90 for a month.)

Settling In

India is beautiful, picturesque with vibrant green rice fields, woman in colorful sari's adorned baskets on their heads, as cows, goats, and pigs hung out. Streets are full of rickshaws, motorbikes, scooters and no traffic lights. Can you imagine? They have a divine synchronized system of their own! Many times I found myself putting on the breaks, and utilizing deep ujjaya breath, as rickshaws sped by scooters, around cows, and pigs as they leisurely crossed the road. Energy and body still transitioning from moving forward in time, and intense. Stacy and I spent day going to market downtown Mysore. (That was a journey) Rickshaw driver, scooters, and bikes all flowing at one time without traffic lights and many times I found myself holding on to the sides and wondering what type of system do they have? All rhythm & movements in traffic appear synchronized not word obscene word was called out (of course I did not understand language, but gestures) Talk about stimulus, we walked down a street Dejusveras Rd.  looking for the Food Store women, children, and men asked for money, store owners were calling you in for silk sari’s, sandalwood carvings, and anything else they could sell.  I was really relived that shopping was complete for apt and we were ready to head back. As I turned around a boy with a monkey on his back “literally” and on my side asking for money, shared with him the next time I saw him I would give him something and actually ran into him two days later and honored my word. Was ready to return to room and relax.

 Practice with “Guruji” & Sharath

Woke up at 4AM and heard faint chanting sound in distance, a temple located down the street, and men and women were performing early morning puja’s. Hearing the chanting actually assisted in setting tone for the day. Bucket bath of cool water, hot water is not warm yet, tea, and squatter the bathroom (it’s really not bad at all, most regular I’ve been in my life!) With mat in hand into the pinkish dawn we pass a beige cow eating out of a trash bin, men in lunghis are walking their dogs, women sweeping the front walk of homes, black & gray birds let you know their up before sunrise, as a subtle breeze flutters the leaves to awaken with warmness of the sun that is about to rise.

Shala was full of shoes on the steps; we stepped in and sat outside the door awaiting a space and signal “next”. 10 minutes later as anticipation rises I hear Sharath say “next” and a space is opened. Will I remember the poses the correct sequence, and then as I roll my mat out I think “it really doesn’t matter, I’m doing what I’m doing and it’s all OK, it’s great to be here, to have the experience, the journey is the journey, and then I space out from their, Energy is high at least and one can feel it when you walk into the room. 120 students are practicing and space is limited, yet flow, rhythm, and breath are synchronized. Ujjaya breath resonates… I begin practice, as I transition to Uttita Hasta Padangustasan, Saraswati extends my legs, and assist. As she walks away it comes to mind that banda’s were not activated. Continue with practice, actually sweating buckets by the time I get to Marychiansan C, Sharath assist and then tells to do finishing postures. Guruji is assisting in backbends, and occasionally you can hear him tell someone to lift or breath. I fold mat and proceed to the part of shala for finishing sequence, it’s full, yet a space has come available right in front of the window. Finishing sequence and then a long savasana.  Feeling of practice and energy cannot be truly conveyed in words… Guruji, Sharath, & Saraswati are down to earth, approachable and really sweet, yet firm.  As I leave many students are lined up to hug “Guruji”. From my heart space to his I past the love.

Moon Day Retreat

Practice is normally 6 days a week. Only on moon days were we off. During the three days we were off, three students rented cab, driver,  and headed for Belcupe (largest Tibetan township in the world) the temples are beautiful, colorful, and inviting. Feeling welled inside reverence, respect and love.

We were looking for a place to eat, I remember walking down one of the narrow streets and looking into the eyes of an older Tibetan Monk (embraced by heart, he conveyed to me that up the street around the corner we would find a restaurant). One would call this a mystical experience and yet when in alignment and open to grace many happenings unfold.

 I proceeded up the street with Debra following and asking where are you going now? We walked directly to the restaurant, small and quaint. We had the best vegetable Chow Mien I’ve had in my life! Sitting and eating I thought about the monk whose eyes and heart had met mine and smiled inside. “Grace”

Our next visit was to a Safari in the jungle, deer, elephants, wild boar, wild buffalo, eagles, hawks, monkeys and beautiful birds gathered of every color in the rainbow...on the rivers edge...another place in time.

Stopped in Sonuthpur and Telekad visited various temples, and had dinner with Indian family...Actually ate off of palm leaves sewn together and food was served on them, as we ate on the floor with our fingers (Indian style) papa dons, tali, samba with potatoes, chutney, and curd for dessert. The food is delicious and so healthy!

 The Shala Practice

Practicing daily with Guruji, Sharath, & Saraswati was such a blessing. Many days Guruji would walk by and pat me on the back, and Sharath would call my name when “awareness” of posture, adjustment forthcoming, or time for me to stop. After second week I was allowed to continue to Navasana. Saraswati came and sat on my back one morning in Janu Sirsasana and pushed head to floor in Marichyasana. With energy shared and such strong vibrations my practice deepened immediately and I found my body doing things I never dreamed it would do as I felt it growing stronger each day and increasing in flexibility and balance. The beauty of practice with 120 students in Shala to one synchronized breath, flowing, sharing, and engaged, separate yet connected. They are very observant of everyone in the room, and their practice, a sense of humor was always added you could hear Guruji make a comment and laughter resonate with all, for a “moment in time”..

Departure

Practice was moving into last week in Mysore and even though I missed Bobby & family, I carried them with me in my heart, so leaving India was some sadness. I thought about what a friend had asked me to bring him back (Holy Ash, blessed by a priest) and in my mind I thought now this will really be interesting. So after practice, I showered and caught a rickshaw to visit Swami G. It was a picturesque beautiful day, blue sky, vibrant colors, light breeze, as I was present in the moment of Life…on the way I noticed three bald eagles soaring high, the rickshaw driver smiled and pulled over as I proceeded across the field to watch them soar in flight. Reaching the cave I took off my shoes, washed feet, and visited Swami G., questions in my mind were answered without verbally expressing, with a natural rhythm and flow, we shared tea, prayer, and a picture together.

The rickshaw driver took me up to Chumundi Hills and actually parked right by the temple, (that was the first). It was a long line to go inside and just as I was thinking about leaving, a young Indian boy approached me and says, “Follow me”. Well I did not miss a beat, I followed him and he took me inside the temple to the priest. People were doing “puja” and I offered a prayer for all, and then added in silently, “Could you direct me in obtaining “Blessed Holy Ash for Gary”. Letting the thought go and watching the fire, listening to the bells ringing and at peace. I was about to leave and one of the priest handed me something in my hand, blessed me and I left. When I reached outside the temple, I opened palm and asked the Indian boy what was it, and he said “The Holy Ash you asked for and Ganesh”.  At that moment tears were streaming down my eyes, so full of love for the “grace” bestowed and prayers answered without conveying to anyone verbally.

There were also many other fine tuned moments in time & memory, that as I type this my heart is smiling from memories, experiences, Divine Light, and Love. I’m sure each person has a different experience of India. The bitter and the sweet are both apart of the process and ones perception. Yet one thing I am sure of is that whatever the experience India will resonate often in your heart and mind. 

In closing we are so fortunate and blessed in Louisville to have an embracing “yoga community”, and our teacher Laura Spaulding is renowned, respected, and loved for her “fire” and dedication to sharing the gift of yoga and precise instructions on the Ashtanga Practice. Many students I talked to were surprised that Louisville practiced Mysore style, and that we have a “strong supportive yoga community.”

One of the other teachers I spoke with shared with me, that one of Laura’s students introduced Mysore style Ashtanga Practice to yoga studio in Baltimore. On another note, I am so grateful for the teachers, and students who continually share and grow. The process is collectively, and the eight limbs of Yoga are a lifelong journey of unfolding, releasing, embracing, study, and practice. We venture off the path at times yet always embraced when we return with commitment, by love and light to continue making a difference in our life and those around us.  Trust the Process!.         

Peace & Blessings

The Chickpea

Lavenia  

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