I originally meant to update my blog over a week ago but, alas, it seems ducoral vaccines and probiotics consumption can only protect you up to a certain point. And for me that point was the Sunday before my birthday (July 12th...I'm behind on posts, sorry). I still can't quite figure out what it was that I ate (and prior to getting sick I was only eating at the cafes for 'foreign yogis'...can you believe I was in Karnataka for two and a half weeks and I hadn't eaten a single dosa?!) but the following day I decided to make a trip to the hospital to consult with a doctor. A tougher cookie would have waited longer but I'm more like one of those soft, chewy cookies. Anyways, I saw a doctor in the ER of the BGS Apollo Hospital in Mysore and about one hour and 500 rupees later I returned home with all the medication and instructions I needed to recover. I feel 100% again. Unfortunately I missed a yoga practice at the shala as I hadn't eaten enough to practice but Saraswathi didn't seem to notice my absence (and if she did she didn't scold me for it -- a common occurrence in the shala when you hear her shout: 'YOU! WHY YOU NOT COMING YESTERDAY?!).
I had also rented out the other room in my flat to a lovely Ashtangi who was practicing here only for 10 days (she left on Sunday). It was a welcomed change to have some company in this place. As liberating as it can be to travel alone, I sometimes feel quite 'trapped' here. I can't walk alone or go out by myself once the sun sets, I can't take a rickshaw anywhere by myself (day or night) and I can barely cross the streets here by myself (between the stray dogs, honking rickshaws, swerving scooters and uneven dirt roads scattered with piles of various animal droppings, it's a death trap). My flatmate came with me to the hospital as she also wanted to see a doctor for a separate medical issue. On our rickshaw ride home she asked me 'how do you feel now?' I thought for a moment and responded: 'Actually, relieved.'
Before coming to Mysore, three things concerned me the most: 1) the incredibly long journey here; 2) cockroaches; 3) getting sick. Now that I've conquered all three, I feel so much lighter (erm...probably aided by the empty crater that is my stomach). I overheard my mom before I left telling someone that I was 'fearless' and I thought this was the most hilarious and inaccurate adjective to describe me. From my perspective fear is one of my greatest obstacles. Rarely do I experience moments of anger or depression but there are many things which scare me. Take my asana practice for example. In Ashtanga yoga, there are six series of asana: primary, second, advanced (A and B) and then fifth and sixth series. Everyone begins learning Ashtanga with the primary series. Don't be fooled by its name, though. Despite being the first of six, primary series contains a number of very advanced poses which you must correctly and consistently practice before your teacher will move you forward to the next asana. For the past nine or ten months now I've been practicing the entire primary series, unable to move to second as I have difficulty dropping back into urdhva dhanurasana (upward bow) and standing up by myself. This is a common stopping point for many Ashtanga practitioners working on primary series and it can often take months and years to achieve. Physically, my teacher tells me I'm capable of doing both actions. The real work in this asana, however, is conquering the fear of falling back while simultaneously building the confidence to lift yourself out of the pose. To me (and many of us), the asana practice of Ashtanga is a gateway to understanding your obstacles beyond the physical body. This could not be more true for me and my backbends. Every time I conquer a fear off the mat, I think to myself that it will only help me conquer my fears on the mat (and vice versa).
I know the day is coming soon where Saraswathi will not cradle me as I reach backwards with my hands or yank me up to standing (it is, quite literally, a sharp yank). This will be a scary moment for me. But, in comparison to the host of fearful moments India has thrown my way in the last three weeks, the fear of dropping back gradually shrinks. At home I could easily spend hours thinking about my drop backs while doing other activities. And here there is so much happening every day that I rarely think about my asana practice at all, never mind back bends. Guruji famously said to his students 'Practice and all is coming'. PRACTICE: wake up every morning and come to your mat, surrendering to whatever state you find yourself in that day. AND ALL IS COMING: everything else; the detachment, the confidence, the patience, the strength, will come in time. These are such simple but beautiful and profound words to live by and here in Gokulam these words are more within reach than ever before.
And on that note I will leave you with some more photos of the sites I've discovered in Mysore.
I had also rented out the other room in my flat to a lovely Ashtangi who was practicing here only for 10 days (she left on Sunday). It was a welcomed change to have some company in this place. As liberating as it can be to travel alone, I sometimes feel quite 'trapped' here. I can't walk alone or go out by myself once the sun sets, I can't take a rickshaw anywhere by myself (day or night) and I can barely cross the streets here by myself (between the stray dogs, honking rickshaws, swerving scooters and uneven dirt roads scattered with piles of various animal droppings, it's a death trap). My flatmate came with me to the hospital as she also wanted to see a doctor for a separate medical issue. On our rickshaw ride home she asked me 'how do you feel now?' I thought for a moment and responded: 'Actually, relieved.'
Before coming to Mysore, three things concerned me the most: 1) the incredibly long journey here; 2) cockroaches; 3) getting sick. Now that I've conquered all three, I feel so much lighter (erm...probably aided by the empty crater that is my stomach). I overheard my mom before I left telling someone that I was 'fearless' and I thought this was the most hilarious and inaccurate adjective to describe me. From my perspective fear is one of my greatest obstacles. Rarely do I experience moments of anger or depression but there are many things which scare me. Take my asana practice for example. In Ashtanga yoga, there are six series of asana: primary, second, advanced (A and B) and then fifth and sixth series. Everyone begins learning Ashtanga with the primary series. Don't be fooled by its name, though. Despite being the first of six, primary series contains a number of very advanced poses which you must correctly and consistently practice before your teacher will move you forward to the next asana. For the past nine or ten months now I've been practicing the entire primary series, unable to move to second as I have difficulty dropping back into urdhva dhanurasana (upward bow) and standing up by myself. This is a common stopping point for many Ashtanga practitioners working on primary series and it can often take months and years to achieve. Physically, my teacher tells me I'm capable of doing both actions. The real work in this asana, however, is conquering the fear of falling back while simultaneously building the confidence to lift yourself out of the pose. To me (and many of us), the asana practice of Ashtanga is a gateway to understanding your obstacles beyond the physical body. This could not be more true for me and my backbends. Every time I conquer a fear off the mat, I think to myself that it will only help me conquer my fears on the mat (and vice versa).
I know the day is coming soon where Saraswathi will not cradle me as I reach backwards with my hands or yank me up to standing (it is, quite literally, a sharp yank). This will be a scary moment for me. But, in comparison to the host of fearful moments India has thrown my way in the last three weeks, the fear of dropping back gradually shrinks. At home I could easily spend hours thinking about my drop backs while doing other activities. And here there is so much happening every day that I rarely think about my asana practice at all, never mind back bends. Guruji famously said to his students 'Practice and all is coming'. PRACTICE: wake up every morning and come to your mat, surrendering to whatever state you find yourself in that day. AND ALL IS COMING: everything else; the detachment, the confidence, the patience, the strength, will come in time. These are such simple but beautiful and profound words to live by and here in Gokulam these words are more within reach than ever before.
And on that note I will leave you with some more photos of the sites I've discovered in Mysore.
The one picture I took of the hospital...hate to post an image of a random man recovering from surgery but I just thought the hospital was so clean and beautiful I wanted to share it!
Mysore is known as the 'sandalwood city' because of the excess sandalwood reserves in the early 20th century. The king of Mysore established a government soap factory producing soaps made from 100% pure sandalwood oil. Current sandalwood reserves are dwindling due to the lack of a regeneration program for the trees (part of the reason why sandalwood is so costly and continues to increase in cost each year). Still, essential oil shops abound here with varying levels of quality (most heavily diluted with alcohol, almond oil or other compounds). This tiny shop was recommended to us as THE place to buy pure essential oils. They hand-mill everything in house (literally...they operate business out of their house!), including agarbhatti or incense sticks. Their oils are so pure, you can even ingest them for medicinal purposes according to ayurvedic principles. I got to try rolling my own agarbhatti stick (with great difficulty) but this particular woman sat here all day and continuously rolled hundreds of them!
This pillar at the Ganapati Sachidananda Ashram is 60 feet high and symbolizes our search for eternal peace and happiness. At the top of the pillar is a thousand-petalled lotus flower, representing the Sahasrara within us (Sahasrara is the chakra from which all other chakras emanate; it means detachment from illusion). On top of the petals are the 'guru padukas' (shoes worn by saintly people) which represents Para Tattva or 'supreme truth'. The pillar is situated in water which flows over the apex in the evening. The water comes to signify nectar, indicating the achievement of a permanent blissful state. It's not really a must-see in Mysore but for some reason I find the meaning of this pillar quite striking.
Lord Mulikeshwara, the medicinal aspect of Lord Dhanvantri. The message of this Lord is to be in one with nature.
Taking a breather at the top of the Brindavan Gardens.
This Hanuman statue is 70 feet tall, making it the tallest Hanuman in all of India.
Walking up the 1008 steps at Chamundi Hill. This man sang in traditional Karnatic style the entire way up. It was a beautiful background score to our 5:30am climb!
At the top of the Chamundi Hill is this temple dedicated to Chamundeshwari also known as Mother Durga. It is said according to Hindu mythology that Mysore was originally ruled by a 'demon king' called Mahishasura. He was a tyrant which the other gods could not control. They pleaded with the holy trinity: Bramha, Vishnu and Shiva, to destroy the demon. So they came together and, through the fusing of their energy or 'Shakti', created the 18-armed Durga: a fierce and powerful form of Mother who bears weapons in each hand given to her by the other gods (I know, so bad-ass, right?). She defeated the demon and restored peace on earth and in the heavens. For Hindus who believe that this mythology is in fact history (and who am I to say otherwise?) this particular hill is supposedly where 'it all went down'. Climbing the 1008 steps to the top of the hill is a pilgrimage for many, where each step is anointed with kumkum and haldi (special powders used for worshipping deities). I wish I had pictures of inside the temple where we got to see Chamundeshwari but unfortunately photography was not allowed inside. You can definitely feel the 'Shakti' when you enter this temple. More on Mother another day as I could write an entire post about her!
The view from our descent in a rickshaw (yeah...we opted out of climbing down the 1008 steps...)
This Venugopala Swamy temple (dedicated to Lord Krishna) was built in 12th century AD. Due to the construction of a dam, the temple (and surrounding area) became submerged in water for over 70 years! It was only in 2000 that, as water levels dropped, the temple emerged and a restoration project began. This current site is about 1 km from the original and includes additional stonework crafted in the same style as the original.
Mysore Palace lights up every Sunday evening for 1 hour. They even have a live band which plays from under the middle arch (you might be able to see them if you zoom in).
Everyone takes this obligatory shot in front of our yoga shala when they come to Mysore. It's kind of wild when, after seeing so many of these, you're the one in the photo!
No comments:
Post a Comment