Ashramites

 

If you happened to have read the post prior to this one, you would have learned that I went into the ashram experience with a bit of a biased opinion.  Before walking into the doors last Tuesday, I made a pact with myself that I would remain completely open-minded throughout the entire experience and try and remain as unbiased as possible.  Again, I grew up in the Western world where the opinion of yoga, meditation, and the ashram life can often times be pegged as “a bit weird and crazy”.  Well, I can tell you that the experience that I had at Phool Chatti Ashram in Luxman Jhulla, India was nothing but positive and perhaps life changing.  Let’s start at the beginning…

Missy and I had been discussing the possibility of staying a few nights at an ashram, you know, just to get the experience.  When we arrived in Luxman Jhulla, we quickly realized that there were hundreds of ashrams to choose from, some often times resembling Alcatraz.  Scary.  How were we supposed to choose one and how do we ensure that we actually get something out of it?  Luckily, the following day, we ran into a young woman on the street whom we had met a few weeks back, while traveling to Manali.  She was literally glowing and seemed to be stuck in a supreme state of peace.  “You are so sparkly…what got into you!?”  “Oh…I just spent a week at an introductory yoga and meditation course at an ashram nestled along the Ganges River, away from the hustle and bustle of the town.”  And that folks, is how we found our ashram…or how our ashram found us, I should say.  

So, on Tuesday, Missy and I saddled up our bags, hopped in a Jeep, and headed for an ashram adventure.  I was immediately smitten upon arrival.  The courtyard was immaculately clean and serene, and you could hear the rapids from the Ganges River from anywhere in the ashram.  After further inspection, we discovered an enormous garden in the rear (typing the word “rear” still makes me giggle) of the ashram, where you could find roses, fresh fruits and vegetables, aloe vera, and hundreds of other flora and fauna.  We later learned that Phool Chatti literally translates to “the place that you stay that is a garden”, so yeah, that makes great sense.  Also, many of the fruits, vegetables, and spices that we ate all week came straight from the garden.  Now, you just don’t get that sort of treatment at the Hilton.  Anyways, after the place passed our physical inspection requirements, we went to the office.  (Yes, we had physical ashram requirements).  In the office, we were greeted not only by the most amazing couches from the '80s that exist to this day, but also by Lalita Ji, one of the spiritual leaders of the ashram, who would be in charge of all of our yoga and meditation classes for the week.  She was a gem of a woman.  Lalita Ji first came to this ashram when she was 17 years old, and has been living there for twenty one years.  Twenty one years…living the ashram life.  Mindboggling.  She is an extremely simple woman, who owns about two outfits, has a stellar sense of humor when it comes to Westerners, and answered all of our questions with either a very decisive “yes” or “no”.  So, after little inquiry, each of us handed her $100 for our week long stay and were shown to our room. 

The rest of that first day was spent meeting our fellow “ashramites”, getting oriented with the Phool Chatti grounds, and learning the schedule we would be following for the next seven days.  An American man, whom we were told to call Randy Ji, gave us the low down on the ashram rules and regulations, and we quickly learned that he was the one we were to go to for anything not related to yoga or meditation.  Randy Ji is a no bullshit kind of guy from the Midwest, and he spends three months a year living at Phool Chatti, three months a year living at an ashram in the South of India, and six months a year living in California.  We tried hard to figure out what his story was throughout the course of the week, but we never really did discover how Randy Ji came to practice this sort of lifestyle.  Anyways, once we completed orientation I decidedly announced to Missy: “You know…this sounds like it’s going to be A LOT like girl scout camp.”  We learned that we would be spending the first 7.5 hours of each day in complete silence, would be eating our meals in silence on the floor of the mess hall, and would start each new daily activity by aggregating ourselves in the courtyard after a gong was rung.  The first two thoughts that came to my mind were: “Holy shit I have to sit Indian style for the duration of every meal” and “We are JUST like the Von Trap kids from The Sound of Music”.  First of all, I seriously despise sitting Indian style.  I cannot physically get my left knee to bend and stay in that position, and I find the entire act of sitting that way completely inconvenient.  If it were up to me, I would eat all my meals sitting in a big pink plastic intertube.  And, secondly, we were NOT like the Von Trap kids at all.  If you looked around the ashramite crew, you could quickly generalize that we all looked like a bunch of vagabond pirate people.  I mean, to fit in in this crowd, you would simply put on the baggiest pair of pants you could find, wear 100 bracelets on each arm, and stop brushing your hair.  It’s glorious.   

Anyways, as ashramite pirate people, we would be following the below schedule on a daily basis for one week:

5:30 – Gong wake up call

6:00 – Meditation

6:30 – Nasal cleansing (We filled a tube with warm salt water and stuck in one nostril as the water spilled out the other nostril.  I was horrified at first, but that little contraption seriously clears out your sinuses).

7:00 – Hatha Yoga

9:00 – Breakfast of porridge and fresh fruit

10:00 – Karma Yoga (Cleaning the ashram)

10:30 – Nature walk

12:30 –Indian Lunch

1:00 – Two hours of free time

3:00 – Discussions regarding the 8 Limb of Yoga

4:00 – Ashtanga Yoga

6:00 – Temple ceremony

6:30 – Music and mantra chanting

7:30 – Indian Dinner

8:30 – Meditation

9:00 – BED

                                                                        (Yoga Hall)

Each time we changed activities in the list above, the gong was rung, and keep in mind that we could not speak until after lunch.  At first it was difficult, but by the end of the week I was really appreciating the silence.  It makes you realize how much time we spend every day in mindless, pointless conversation, just because we feel like we should be talking.  I am going to make it a point in my life moving forward, to try and not to say something unless it is necessary or value-added, or unless someone says something seriously stupid and I need to let them know.

Meal time was an experience.  We sat in four rows on the ground (in indian style may I remind you again).  We used the same dish, spoon, and cup at every meal, which we cleaned ourselves in the kitchen.  Sweet little Indian boys would run around with buckets of food and ladel rice, dal, chapattis, yogurt, and vegetables onto our plates, over and over again until we waved our hands at them signaling that we were full.  Then we would all go outside and drink chai and compare how many chapattis we each ate at that particular meal.  To be clear, the food was seriously delicious and healthy.  I miss it already.  I have been out of the ashram for 24 hours and have already consumed a nutella and banana crepe, a plate of french fries, and a chocolate milk shake.  It had to be done.

Where I really struggled was with the meditation practices.  I already had a biased opinion that meditation was for crazy people, but I was starting to see the light.  I have been reading The Tibetan Book on Living and Dying, which is a wonderful book explaining the beliefs behind the almost "utopia-esque" society that Tibetans had managed to build before the Chinese Government invaded their country and destroyed nearly all of their culture, but that is for another post.  Anyways, through reading the novel, I am learning about the benefits of practicing meditation and why until now, it has been rejected by Westerners.  I realize that I was raised in a society where any mention of “God” will send people spiraling into a fit of either awkwardness or rage.  It is my opinion, in a general sense, that Westerners try and avoid getting themselves into any discussions having to do with spirituality, Divine Presence, or really even faith.  That also goes for church or temple going Christians, Lutherans, Jews, etc.  No one wants to talk about it.  No one is encouraged to talk about it.  There are probably people reading this now who are already angry because I have typed “God” twice (now three times) in a public forum.  I mean, when is the last time you announced at a dinner party: “tonight I want each of you to explain where you think we came from and then tell us why or why not you think God exists.”  In our culture, I would call that dinner party suicide. 

To set my beliefs straight here, I was raised as a Catholic.  My mom did an excellent job trying her best to instill spirituality into her children.  I am not presently a practicing Catholic, although I would like to reintroduce spiritual practice back into my life.  I believe that there is something greater than us that exists; call it God, Brahma, Shiva, Jesus, Divine Presence, etc., my opinion is that there is something greater than human life.  Now, I happened to be born into a Catholic family rather than a Hindu family, so that what was I was taught was “correct”, but again it is my personal belief that in general, religion is a means to worshiping the fact that as humans, we are given a gift by a “Greater Existence” of a short life on this earth.  It brings me comfort in believing this and drives me to be a better person, so that is why I believe it.  But anyways, I have never liked discussing the topic of spirituality for all of the reasons mentioned above.  Therefore, when it came time to meditate, my mind and body rejected the act.  When I was supposed to be searching for “the space between my thoughts”, I found myself thinking about the remainder of our trip, my 2011 goals, and the fact that I shouldn’t be thinking about anything if I wanted to meditate.  Also, when Randy Ji spoke during the meditations, he sounded exactly like Kevin Spacey, so various movies continued to pop in my head.  During the week at the ashram, I never really achieved a meditative state, but I certainly found a new appreciation and understanding for the act.  In this day and age of noise and meaningless tasks, people meditate to find a greater truth to life other than Facebook, our workaholic culture, and the act of acquiring the nicest material possessions.  So, next time I see someone sitting quietly in a park with their eyes closed, rather than snicker, I will smile.

The yoga was grade A.  I can now do a head stand on my own and bend myself into a pretzel.  Also, when we were all doing advanced moves, there was a real sense of "people helping people" in the class.  "Oh you can't touch your toes?  Let me just sit on your back like this for you..."

As for the mantra chanting and singing, I again want to remind you that I went into the experience open minded, and tried to appreciate the Hindu custom.  And, let’s be honest here people, if someone hands me a tambourine to shake at my leisure for thirty minutes, I am pretty much lost in my own world of entertainment.  So, I participated every single day with enthusiasm.  On the last night, we took the guitars, drums, and singing to the beach, where we sat around a huge bonfire.  All of the ashramites had to separate into groups according to the country where we were born, and pick a song to sing in front of everyone.  Now, as the Americans, we had the largest group, so people were expecting big things.  Our group was extremely diverse and we came up with all sorts of crazy ideas.  In the end, we really represented the United States of America appropriately.  While every other country carefully chose and sang a heartfelt or patriotic song with a lot of emotion, the Americans came up with “We Will Rock You”… how appropriate.

On our last day, we all dressed in white and Lalita Ji held a closing ceremony around a small fire on the ashram balcony.  We all made offerings to Ganesha, the god of good fortune, and wrote a vice on a piece of paper that we wanted to throw into the fire.  This way, we could rid our lives of this vice.  Missy said I couldn’t write down “my big thighs” and throw that into the fire, so I reached deep into my soul for something more appropriate.  In summary, the brief introductory period I had to the ashram life was surprisingly inspiring and very special.  It made me really think about my life, my family, and my future in a way I have always been afraid to embrace.  I met an amazing group of people of all age ranges, countries, and walks of life, and I was a bit nostalgic to leave on the last day.  But, most importantly, I had hours of silent time to analyze the inevitable question, “Who am I?”

9 Americans, 3 Swedes, 6 Israelis, 1 German, 1 English, 1 Aussie, 2 Canadian, 2 French Canadian, 1 Mexican, 2 Dutch, 2 South Africans: