Final Notes on India

Sunday, 31 January 2010

I have washed off the last bit of the Pune dust from my feet. It’s not really dirt it’s a dusty mix of exhaust, ash, and garbage dust. I have said my goodbyes. Home is the next stop. Mr. Iyengar says that we in the west are born into heaven and we do not even know it. I know it now. I have so much to be grateful for. My family, my friends, my work at the Center for Health Research, my Yoga practice and teaching, my food coop, my neighbors, my students, my teachers, my colleagues, my sweet quiet, clean little piece of paradise in the woods – fresh air. I have it all.

I did not really come to India with any questions nor was I looking for any answers. I have been blown away to see in person, to witness this place as it is. The pace, the poverty, the affluence. The west wants to be like the east and the east wants to be like the west. I wonder how they see us? If this is a race to westernize then we have more problems than I thought. The pollution and garbage is overwhelming. Where is the middle ground here?

I knew I would not find a bucolic place where everyone lived a mindful life based on the eight limbs of Yoga. Hardly. Yoga is definitely more popular in Camas than in Pune. I am kind of at a loss when trying to describe the feelings and emotions about being here and now about going home. All this week I have been ready to go. I have been kind of anxious. What am I running from?

One of my observations is about Iyengar Yoga. After seeing it at the source I am not so sure that that is what I teach. I know I can never have the depth of Prashant and Geeta on any of the relevant levels. But I did not really find very many similarities between how I have interpreted the teaching and how Yoga is taught here. I do feel that by experiencing the teaching here that my commitment to being a compassionate teacher has been deepened. And that is mostly in reaction to some of the harshness I experienced. The practice commitment is present but there is some kind of disconnect related to the teaching. Maybe it is like studying the mystical, spiritual, religious traditions and finding things that resonate with you and things that don’t. Maybe it’s about finding more of my own path and integrating the stuff that makes sense. But it has to also be about the stuff that did not resonate with me. I have to explore why and integrate that as well.

I’ll miss the carefree focus of my existence here. I’ll miss the sound of the sweeping in the morning. If two-stroke leaf blowers ever make it here the pollution levels will take a substantial jump. I’ll miss the food that Anjali prepares.

I’ll miss the people. Ah, the people. All of the loving sweet people I met here and who took me on. Srinath, the trekker, who called me Mr. Paul. What a sweet guy. I am sure our paths will cross again. Anjali and Arwind, my sweet and awesome hosts, and their children and spouses. The sweet guy at the Institute who hangs around the area where the shoes are. Sunil and Shubhanji and their awesome daughter Shraddha. The Chaiwalla boys and the soda boy. All of the people who asked me, “your country?” and who said “welcome” when I said thank you. All of the Indian’s who said one photo please or wanted to have their photo taken with me. The big smiles I received all of time and people calling me Baba, Baba. I truly felt welcomed and loved.

The best thing the trip has provided me so far is perspective - perspective on my path and our shared existence here. I am confident that I have only scratched the surface of what I have learned about myself on this pilgrimage. Kind of like my studies of Yoga – just scratching on the surface. Practice, practice, practice. As a shirt I saw here noted – Go In.

See you in class, in the woods, on the streets, at the coop, at work, or wherever our paths cross. I look forward to it.

Love, light and blessings.

pc