If life went according to my plan…

When I booked my ticket to India, I debated in my mind about purchasing a one way or a round trip ticket.  Once I decided to purchase a round trip, I had to choose a date.  I chose April 6th. If life went according to my plan, I would have arrived in the US last week. Life does not go according to my plan. Life has not gone according to my plan for some time now. Life has it own plan for me.

I am here.

And I have been here for a month

Here is the only place to be.

Here.

Reality is always happening, always here no matter where I am. My real life is happening for me wherever I am.  Life does not stop or go on hold, it is always here, continuing to reveal itself no matter where I am. To me, it is not that I am back in reality, for I have always been in my life, with my life.

Then, I was there.

Now, I am here.

In being here, I continue to observe, my choices, my actions, my thoughts, my consciousness state.  I continue to be aware.

The being here is more than a physical sense. To me, it is more of an approach, an awareness of my current state, where my attention is, what I am focused on. A reminder that I am here, in this moment rather than off somewhere my mind takes me.  My mind has a strong tendency to do that, to leave the current moment and whisk me away to somewhere else. It brings me to the past, previous events of my life.  It brings me to the future, events that have not happened. 

The practice I have to do this is, to catch my mind and the thoughts it has is not new. It is the awareness that is new. It is the separation between me and thoughts I have that is new. I am not my thoughts. Instead, thoughts arise and my ability to observe when that is happening, to noticing has deepened. My awareness around this is vast, it has become part of my daily practice. A noticing of the thoughts that arise, they bubble up, reminding me that they are there, things are there, stuff is there. It only exists in my mind, outside of my mind I cannot locate it.

That is all that they are, thoughts. I have the choice to sit with them or let them arise and pass like water flowing in the river or clouds in the sky.

In love and light,

Sara

I Was There and Now I am Here

Here are photos and captions that I took from the day I departed India and travelled to the US.

The last photo I took in November 2018 when I was in Rishikesh was of this murti of Hanuman. This past winter I had a dream with this murti in it and in the dream there was a temple behind it, a tall temple with many stories. I spent time here, at this place on Ma Ganga and in front of this murti throughout my time in Rishikesh, it was not until this very moment that I saw and registered that the 13 story Shiva temple (Trayambakeshwar) is in the background. You can also see the Laxam Jhula bridge.

My beloved Ria and I used to say “Look over your shoulder baby,” to one another. Here I am doing that, a nod to three things I love - MJ in front of Ma Ganga, with Shiva in the distance.

Soon after that photo it started raining…I decided to sit at my local chai shop to have aloo paratha (a flat, fried bread with potatoes) and sabji (cooked vegetables, here it is cauliflower and cabbage). My chai was on its way….

I sent this picture to my family as I was leaving the wifi access I had. I anticipated that I would not be able to access wifi to be in touch with them until I arrived in the US. That proved to be true.

On my way into the Jolly Grant Airport in Dehradun.

I continue to be amazed by the power of a gaze. Our eyes convey so much.

It is so easy to see the smile that adorns my face even though you can not see the smile. It is all conveyed through the eyes.

A snapshot from inside of the International Terminal in Delhi which you have to show your boarding pass or proof that you are flying as well as your passport to enter. The guard, who had a gun, asked me “are you sure you want to enter? Your flight is not until 10:45 pm and it is now only 2. Once you come in, I can not let you out.” “Yes,” I replied, assuring him I was prepared to be inside for that long. I wrote a few pieces during that stretch of time which I will add here.

I would write a bit, then stand to stretch my legs. You can not check in until three hours before departure, so I had to carry by bag with me wherever I went. I had an opportunity in High School for my first international trip to Spain (with my beloved Abbey) and as I prepared to go, my dad taught me to never travel with more you can carry, it has been a valuable lesson as I moved a lot while in India and had to carry my bags with me while navigating the terminal. After a trip to the bathroom I noticed a newsstand. As I made my way through the small shop, I saw a refrigerator section that said Chilled Drinks; I walked towards it. To my pure delight I saw a Snapple, a PEACH Snapple! Oh my heart was full with joy! A peach Snapple at the Delhi airport! I selected a bag of mature cheddar and red onion chips to accompany it. When I got to the register, the gentleman rang up both the Snapple and the chips it was 585 rupees. I was a bit confused since the chips were 8o rupees, doing the math in my head I figured the Snapple was close to $8. No, I thought to my self, I can not purchase a Snapple for $8, and then I thought, Why Not?

You can imagine the delight that radiated from my heart as I lifted the cap to read this! The message. An octopus! Three hearts! A Peach Snapple. The Delhi airport in India. I could not make this up. Life is wonderful. So, so, so very grateful to be able to experience this brilliant life.

Once through customs and screening, on my way to the gate, I saw a man eating kulfi, a traditional Indian ice cream. “Yum,” I said out loud, “great choice.” The man, whose name is Ajat, turned and said, come have one. He bought me pistachio kulfi and I enjoyed it in the airport. Ice cream in the airport! I finished it right before I went through the second screening to board the plane.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that I slept for the first 11 hours of the flight! When I awoke and checked the time that remained until I landed, I had enough time to watch a movie. I had been seeking an opportunity to watch The Matrix and to my delight they had it as an option. “It is the question that drives us mad. It’s the question that brought you here.” When I saw that Neo and Trinity ascended to the 41st floor to bring Morpheus out of the Matrix I was charmed that I was sitting in row 41… I have not put all of this together to glean meaning… I simply love moments like this…as everything is happening for us…

Laura realized that I was flying on 3.14/15! I like numbers. Which is a nod to pi- 3.1415926535 and Ms. Washington’s math class at Mt Hebron Middle school. Ms. Washington taught us a rhythm to remember the sequence. Ask me to chant it for you the next time we connect, I am happy to share it. It too, brings me much joy!

There were so many people arriving in the US, they stopped us at the top of the stairs to manage the flow down below. The image is blurry because I was not supposed to take a picture and there were so many people behind me I could not stop.

There she is, my trusty red travel bag appeared as if on cue, right as I walked up to the baggage carousel.

I spent my first few hours in the US at an airport hotel. This is a moment I captured while there.

On the go again. In the elevator headed down to meet my Mom and my Dad! They arrived in Newark later that evening from a trip Panama and Costa Rica. We were going to go to their house, which my Dad named the International House.

What a welcome! Pook had crumb topping donuts, flowers, and a balloon waiting to greet us! Yes, we ate donuts at 2:30 in the morning. There is not wrong time to enjoy a donut.

This is what was waiting for me when I went upstairs!

This was the card she wrote to me that was hidden in the envelope. I mean!

And this, is what was inside a pink bag surrounded by gold heart tissue paper. Her name is Ophelia and she was “born” in November 2019… the same time I departed for India!

Yes, life is magical and I am so grateful to be living mine to the fullest!

Sending you love from three hearts and an eight armed HUG!

in love and light,

Sara

Just Like That

It happened as most things do, quickly and not planned.

I am really surrendering to this notion of life having its way of presenting itself and opportunities to me that are not according to how I envisioned or think they would be.

I had originally planned to arrive in the US on April 6th.

Here I am.

I opened the door to place the flowers and banana outside to see this!

The decision to depart India was made in less than 24 hours. Well, it was actually way shorter than that, looking back now. I awoke to a series of WhatsApp messages on the morning of March 12th, strongly encouraging me to leave India and make my way to the US.  To me, it was a typical morning in India. I woke up, spent time in puja and my morning practice. I placed a bag of flowers and a half eaten banana near my door to offer to the cow I would see on my walk to school and within seconds a monkey swooped down, took the bag and peeled back the peel to reveal what was left of the banana.  As I watched the monkey enjoy the banana, scootys were passing by the window of my room, horns from rickshaws announced their presence and cows were greeting the day with a low bellow.  I did not understand the panic.

A quiet voice inside told me to bring my bag of things that I planned to ship to the US with me to school. I called Kusum to arrange a ride to school and shared with her that I was going to spend some time sitting with the news from the texts and that I would be arrive to school later than usual.

A typical day in Tapovan

As I sat enjoying my chai, the day presented itself it is normal fashion. Folks were sweeping away the dirt and debris the day before left behind, some were purchasing things from the daily needs shop or from the telewala, or fruit cart, I heard the familiar call of the peacocks in the distance. I was perplexed.  I wanted to honor the request from my family while simultaneously remained committed to the plan I originally set - to be in India until April 6th.

View of the main market in RIshikesh from the DHL shop.

I gathered my bag of things that I accumulated from my months in India and hopped on a scooty, slowly making our way to the DHL store to ship my belongings.  Here again, I was presented with the opportunity to see that things do not go according to plan. The shop was closed. We would have to return when the shop owner arrived back from his time in a different part of town.

I had an unsettled feeling in my chest, an unfamiliar feeling and I was really unsure what to do about it. I saw Kusum and began crying. Emotions were moving through me. It wasn’t that I was ending my trip early; I was not on a trip. I was living in India. I was living in India. I had established relationships, a community, folks I saw daily; I had a life there.

Inside the DHL shop

I made it back to the DHL shop to mail my package, I had a choice to ship it two different ways, one of them was quicker, the other slower. In no rush to have my things in the US, I chose the slower of the two options and sought the opportunity for quiet reflection and sat next to Ma Ganga for the rest of afternoon.  While walking on the ghat, a gentleman approached me offering me chai, at first I resisted, and then I thought, why not.  I sat. I wrote. I stared. I sipped.

That evening was the start of the International Film festival in Rishikesh and the third night in a row of thunderstorms. I watched the films Becoming Nobody and Fierce Grace with Ram Dass and One Track Heart with Krishna Das. In the rainy, rickshaw ride up to Tapovan where my room was, a fellow passenger asked me what I was doing. I shared; Ma India always has something in store for us, even when we have something planned.

Krisha Das’s One Track Heart movie from the International Film Fesitival

 That night, I wrote this in my journal:

I know I can be ready to go if needed, if it is truly called for

Not now

I… yes, I have a few expectations and I did not want it to end this way.

Quick good-byes, no closure

And I see how those are all things I am attached to

Outcomes

Expectations

Attached to

And it is arising to release

To be released and

Me holding on,

Reacting is only allowing it, giving it permission

It- meaning fear- to stay

To see, to witness the attachment,

This stirred up emotion

The morning view from my room

Rising the next morning, a new day, I found clarity.  I was here, in India and I will be until I am called to leave. I arrived at Mother Miracle School to learn that the school was closing and Shahla ma’am was telling the volunteers to leave India. I felt resistance rising up within me and then I softened. If I was in India to volunteer and I was no longer able to volunteer, then I am not meant to be in India.  Within an hour I had arranged flights for the following day, arriving in the US on the 15th of March.

It was the only day, throughout my who time in India that I did not write in my journal.

Not one word.

in love and light,

Sara

Saat Moord

I am in the year of the peacock… What does that mean you might be asking yourself. For the past two years I have pulled a yearly spread in the beginning of February, using Kim Krans’s Wild Unknown deck. While shuffling the cards, you sent an intention, ask for guidance and pull one card for each month and one for a yearly theme.

My 2019 spread.

In May of 2019, while packing up my cabin and going through my storage unit, emotions and memories hit me hard.  I was caught in a self-doubt swirl, wondering why and what and how. I decided to take a break and go for a walk.  On my walk into the wilderness (yes, my backyard was wilderness) I saw a peacock.  I knew there were peacocks that lived as pets on a property near my cabin, I had heard them call, yet I had not seen one. I thought to myself, seeing this peacock is a sign and a message that things are okay and I am fine and everything is meant to be. I walked along, following the peacock, once it was out of sight I turned around.  I began walking towards my cabin and something inside me told me to turn around and look back, so I did.  At first, what I saw looked like a dried reed or piece of grass and when my eyes focused I realized it was thicker than a reed. So I scanned the ‘reed looking thing’ and it revealed itself to me. The peacock left me a gift (I am crying recalling the moment, the power, the emotion, the gratitude, the message). The peacock left me a feather!

My first peacock feather, found near Camp Creek in Hoback, WY.

My first peacock sighting this trip, despite my many hikes and time outside was while riding the bus back from a mall.  Yes, a mall. I went to a mall in India and it was like a mall is the US. However, there I witness a remarkable moment, a talent search called The Talent of Royal Dreams. It reminded me of the 80’s and Tiffany, Debbie Gibson and Martika (I mean come on, Toy Soldiers). Witnessing this brought me right back to the ‘89.

One day at Sri Ram, I was walking to the garbage can to deposit the dust and dirt I collected from sweeping (the brooms here are way more fun to sweep with and there is so much more dirt, so much you wonder how did it get here). I opened the lid and saw a PEACOCK feather. There was a peacock feather in the trash! Oh, no.  That simply can not be, I thought.  So, I lifted the feather out and admired its beauty. The vibrancy of its color, how it changes in light, with different backgrounds, the gold, the purple, the yellow, the green, the turquoise, I was and still am captivated by its brilliance. I brought it back to my room and placed it on my altar. (I got the spelling right, thanks Mom!)

Later that day, I chose to do my afternoon practice (a kriya set) outside in the warmth and light of the sun.  When I opened my eyes, I saw this stunning sight of this massive tree. I had seen the tree, but this time it looked different.  I snapped this photo and went for a walk around the ashram to ground down.  While walking I saw a white crane and went up to the tree to hug it (I have really being fond of trees and my respect for them has grown as I travel here in India and see where they live and how strong they are).

The tree that charmed me. The tree that I hugged.

As things settled around the ashram before the evening aarti, I chose to sip my chai and type while sitting in front of this tree. I was pleasantly surprised to see the white crane fly and land in the tree.  I watched it for some time and then peacocks flew into the tree. I want to say there were seven, maybe there were only six, regardless there were many peacocks and they were in the tree!

One of the peacocks is on the large branch.

Me, my tree and PEACOCKS!  Such immense joy and delight filled my heart and body. I watched them. I talked to them. They walked on the branches and then one by one they flew off.

One of the peacocks flying.

I smiled with a heart full of love as peacocks came to me in India, in my year of the peacock!

I love life and the miracles she offers me everyday and I invite you to do the same!

With a heart full of sincere love, gratitude, joy and delight,

HUGS

S

Sri Ram Ashram as an Orphanage

Orphanage/fully functioning family? I am confused. This is a text that came from my beloved Lauren. Totally understandable question, I thought as I read it.  Here is my answer, with the information that I have at this time.

Sri Ram was founded as an Ashram, as a home for children who did not have one. When the founder, Hari Dass, known as Babji was young he had a friend who was an orphan. His friend told him stories of children being hit and abused, and in that moment Babji made a commitment to create a place where children would be loved, treated with respect and grow to be active contributors to society.

When Sri Ram started, Babji knew that children were taken and used as servants so he was against giving children up for adoption, so in the beginning, children who came here, joined a family in which they would live.

Ansula and I were talking one day and she shared that one of the hardest days of her life was the day she learned Babji passed.  Many of the children here, had not met Babji. Ansula and the elder children had.  I hear them share fond memories of laughing and joking with Babji spending time with him outside under the mango tree.  The other hard day she shared was July 4/5, when she had to say goodbye to her brother that she had a very special bond with. She shared that he had been adopted.

Up until that moment, I did not know that children here at the ashram were adopted.

Rajvi, has been a trustee for Sri Ram for over 25 years and he explained that in more recent years, the times have changed and so has the law.  Now, Sri Ram is required to ‘put children up for adoption.’ While the older children will not be adopted, the younger children can be. They have a specific process and rules that govern these decisions. Families go through an interview process, they have folks visit their home and they are required to submit financial statements (the income must be 3000 rupees a month- that is close to $600). Once a child has been adopted, then Rajvi and his wife Rami travel to visit the child with their family twice over the next two years.

Sri Ram, to me is a family. It is not and does not feel like an institution. Children are welcomed here as I was welcomed, with open arms. Children come to Sri Ram in three different ways, they have either been orphaned, abandoned or surrendered.  Sri Ram welcomes them all, even as young babies. The youngest baby they have welcomed was eight hours old. Not all children come here as babies, some children are much older, one child recently came and he is eight.  No matter how they arrive here, all children are a part of this family and are provided for until they are settled and established on their own and that looks different for each individual.

Since being here over the winter holiday, I had the opportunity to meet older siblings who have returned to visit for the break, some come for the weekend, one stopped by to pick up mail. Some are in school, studying dentistry or photography, living with roommates and navigating being independent moving away from the ashram to Delhi or Jaipur. Three girls left together and work together at a travel agency and work together to cook meals. They shared that living in the ashram has prepared them to live that way. One started a Cross Fit gym in Haridwar and recently bought a house.  Some are married and have families of their own.

Each individual is unique and the ashram does what it can to support and afford opportunities for all of the children to follow their passion and achieve their dreams.

The Thing about Expectations - part 1

I have had a ‘thing’ with expectations for some time now… working through what happens when you have a vision, when you envision, have dreams about things and then circumstances change and those possibilities of dreams are no longer viable, no longer possible.  However and… at the current moment, I really do see a difference between envisioning something and an expectation.  So in this sense, I am still working to make sense, to know, to understand these words, their meanings and these experiences.

Confused. Welcome to my mind… (some of the time).  My dear friend Nicole, who I affectionately call Ria will recall a moment that makes me smile EVERY TIME I bring it back to my mind.  We were at a park on night in High School and some decision was made and I commented, “I am so confused.”  Ria responded, “obviously.”  So this notion of sitting with things in my mind, thinking about them, at times brings confusion and at others there is such a deep sense of clarity, a deep sense of inner knowing. 

In this way I mean specifically that I know, from experience, that I can envision something and make it happen.  Right now, as I type, I am sitting on the third floor of Om Bhavan in room 22 at the Sri Ram Ashram in Haridwar, India listening to the voices of children carry up from the floors below, and while I did not envision this moment specifically, I had many dreams and visions about working with women and children in India and here I am. So, yes, to me there is a difference between envisioning, a vision and or a dream and an expectation.  And my intention here is to share a few of the MANY opportunities that have risen for me to see how my “expectations” are never helpful for me.

Room 22, the first door on the left on the 3rd floor.

The first one caught me by surprise. I was at Sattva Academy in the foothills of the Himalayas for my 200 hour teacher training.  We were a week in to our training and I had established a solid morning routine that consisted of puja, mediation, sitting by the river to greet the sun and then our morning journey.  On this particular morning, I was captivated by the sun, her warmth, her beauty and her light, so taken in that I lost track of time. I gathered my things and rushed (I know I am not the first to rush to a yoga class) to the Brahamanda Hall.  As I approached I saw a lot of room inside and thought, ‘huh,’ as I got closer there were very few pairs of shoes outside the door, another ‘huh’ entered my mind and then as I went to open the door I saw Mark who saw my face and said, “we are going on a hike today.” Aghhhh..not at all what I expected. So I rushed to my room to get my shoes and put down my mat and bag. I made it to the meeting place and took a deep breath and then we were off. Folks were running up the hill and on their way.  I stayed back and followed my natural rhythm of walking.

This is the stunning tree with the root that curled up over itself. I spent a lot of time here one day and will write about my experience soon.

Along the way we passed children in uniforms walking to school and folks, both men and women making their way ‘to town’ with bags in their hands.  We passed a tree whose trunk was bent and twisted and fascinating to look at. As we walked up and up we stepped on a path that was being built. We saw lunch pails and jackets hanging in trees, men arranging rocks, chipping away at pieces with hammers as they worked to get them to fit in the spaces left to fill from the other rocks as the path was being built. Women were carrying the rocks balanced on their heads and them dumping them in piles near where the path was being constructed. We passed a concrete shelter, one that I had seen close to a bus or taxi stand although we were high up and there was no access for any motor vehicles.

There was a steady stream of folks. Some ran ahead and others we walking in pairs or groups talking (this walk was in place of our journey so it was actually time to be in silence) and I chose to find a pace and place that had some distance between me and the person in front of and behind me.  We came to a village and saw a man tending to a fire, a woman washing dishes, and children admiring us from a gate. We passed cows, goats, gardens, laundry drying on lines and water access. As we continued our walk up, I noticed that Anandji and the runners had stopped.  I heard a bell and turned to see a group was near the village temple. Great I thought, we were far behind and went the wrong way. And then I saw that they were not on the path and that they had got off track. They made their way to us and we all went up.  Where are we going,? I thought. Are we going to the top of this mountain? I am excited to reach the sun. When will we arrive there?  How much further?

We followed the path up and up and up and after climbing up rocks we reached an overlook. The space opened up and we could see for miles. In the distance we could see the “Goddess Temple” (that I wrote about earlier with the Pandit and my sacred thread), structures on the hillside and we could hear voices of folks from surrounding villages.  We gathered and began to sit on the hillside. I chose a place in the shade and got settled as the sounds of drumming and singing arose from a nearby school.  I closed my eyes. I breathed. I could tell that folks continued to gather as I could hear them arriving and getting situated- breathing in, exhaling, sipping water, removing clothing. I wondered, when will Anadji start talking, I have seen images and videos of wisdom talks in nature, surely he will talk with us here. Maybe he is waiting for everyone to arrive and will get a signal from someone and then he will start. When folks came near and sat, I kept thinking oh, now he will start. Or maybe it is now. Okay, it is not now, maybe he is giving folks time to breathe and get settled and then he will start.  

Here we are. This picture was taken by Matheus and was posted on Sattva Connect, which is where I got it from.

And just like that, folks started standing. Standing. Folks were standing and gathering their things and moving. Moving. Folks were moving. We were leaving.  We were asked to stop for a moment to capture a picture and then, we were off, headed on a path down. I was confused. I thought, wait, Anandji is supposed to talk to us, that is why we came, for him to talk to us, to share something. In the videos I have seen Anandji talk to folks outside. That is what he was supposed to do here.

Nope, that is not what happened. That was an expectation I had of what I thought was supposed to happen, of what would happen. An image in my mind, thoughts based on previous experiences that I made up, that I told myself would happen. See, I told you I had a thing about expectations.

This second one hit me hard, and I mean hard. I got caught in a loop for days over it.

We had another opportunity to go for a hike, this time to a waterfall and two choices were offered to us, to walk up along a stream to access waterfall or take a path. I love water and chose to walk along the stream (as I type I am recalling more and more details and am laughing out loud, this experience really got me good).

I heard folks around me say that Anandji likes to run and jump from rock to rock and that they should plan to get wet. Instantly the self-doubt voice entered- run?, I do not run, jump from rock to rock?, I am intentional about where I step. Wet?, no, not happening with these shoes, first off they are new and second, how will they dry…. And just like that everyone that chose to go this route started running. Not like a jog, a full on run.  My first thought was, no worries. Folks will fall back and be with me, I will not be alone, that is what happened on the last hike. No, that did not happen. I was last, the absolute last one. The self doubt, self talk was rampant, do I take the path? No, I chose to go along the water, I like the water, I want to be along the water. Do I run, no, I do not run. I am not a runner. But I can run. Should I run? Should I run to keep up? No, this is not about getting somewhere, it is about the experience and me running is not the experience that I want…When I say I was the last one, I was. And to give you a glimpse of where we were, there was no path. There was no path along the river. I was following where it looked like folks had been before me as evidenced by leaves of bushes having mud from being stepped on and trampled over or rocks that were wet from feet climbing over them.

This is the river.

Eventually, I ‘caught’ up to the crew since the route had slowed some down.  Here I too, was mindful of where I placed each foot, careful to not slip and/or to put my foot in the river- no soggy socks and shoes for me… Until, I slipped and in my foot went.  That expectation did not last and to my astonishment and amazement, it was MUCH easier to walk up river than it was to walk along it.  “Oh, right,” I heard myself say, “this is what Anandji was saying, the rocks are the river, they are not in the river, they are the river. There are no obstacles on the path, the obstacles are the path.” With this new “confidence,” I started passing folks who were alongside the river while I was the river and ahead I saw a bridge. I had one person in my sight of vision and she crossed the bridge. I did the same.

I continued walking and walking now that I was on the dirt path. I did not see anyone.  More doubt came, this time with anger, “why is no one waiting for me?  Don’t they see that there are more of us coming? Why hasn’t that girl turned around to see if I was behind her? Am I being punished for passing the others? Should I stop and wait for them so at least they know where to go? But then what happens if when I wait for them, they the others get so far ahead I really do not meet up with them? I should wait, I should wait. That is what I should do, no one waited for me, but I should wait. I will wait.”

So I waited. I waited and I waited. I peed along side the path. A man with a backpack and dress shoes passed me talking on the phone. I waited some more. And more thoughts came, “now that I have waited, I have no idea where the rest of the group is. I am missing out. I bet Anandji is imparting wisdom and I am missing it because I waited to take care of others, when no one waited to take care or even care about me!”

I fully recognize that one can wonder, “how can she be mad while being here?” The view of Sattva with the red roofs is in the distance.

I was fuming with anger as I turned and began walking back towards the area from which we came. More and more thoughts were running in my mind, “why isn’t there someone from the group, one of the ‘teachers’ ensuring we are all together? Why did I stop to care about others when no one stopped to care about me. Am I supposed to learn to take care of myself? Am I supposed to learn to think only of me? Am I supposed to take care and be responsible for others?  What does it even mean to be responsible of others? Where are the others, why have they not caught up to me?” These thoughts trolled my mind the whole walk back to Sattva. When I arrived, I saw a few folks that were ahead of me, they were laughing and smiling and talking and I was even more mad. I sulked off and went to my room to take off my soggy socks, shoes and pants and to sit alone.

My roommate Alessia, entered and asked if I made it to the waterfall. “Nope”, I replied with nothing more. “I didn’t either. I followed the person in front of me, I think we went the wrong way,” she said. I could feel a bit of ease entering my heart. Wait, I am not the only one who didn’t make it to the waterfall... I do not know how long I carried around the hurt, the anger, the resentment, the wondering.  I know that at some point it was gone. Maybe I forgot, maybe it had is course, maybe it moved on… eventually I was back to me again.

A stone wall along the path.

A week later, we had a day off and my roommate and I decided that we were going to make it to the waterfall.  So while folks were loading up in taxis to head to Rishikesh to shop, we set forth to redeem ourselves and see the waterfall.  This time, we choose to take the path.  It was a week later and I worked up the courage to say I did not make it to the waterfall the first time and inquired about how to get there.  I was told- walk along the path, cross the bridge and keep the river to your left.  With this ‘plan’ in our mind, we set forth. This time we were going to see the waterfall.

The stone path.

We walked along the path (the path I walked back on the first time), crossed the bridge (in the opposite direction from the previous time) and had the river stay on our left. We walked and walked and were quiet. We talked and shared our excitement to read and write near the waterfall and debated going for a swim in its pool below.  We stopped to take pictures. We stopped to listen to the sounds. We took in the magnificent beauty of where we were.  We approached a stone structure and a bridge made from pipes. We crossed the bridge and kept following the path until there was a split. We decided to go right staying low, keeping the water near rather than climbing high.

Me.

Eventually we came to a crossing and I felt, that the waterfall was hidden in the narrow section of the forest. Yet, we could not get to it. The path that we chose to take lead us up, up, up.  On these beautifully laid stones, I thought of the men and woman who were making a similar path on our first hike. I recalled the work they were doing, my gratitude and thought of the folks who laid this path- for it was some time ago evidenced my the growth of green growing in between. We reached a place from which we could see.  In the distance there was a village and had we taken the path to the left, we would have approached it.  We could hear voices in the village, maybe the waterfall is there and that is why the created the village. Should we go up further? Should we scramble down this cliff to get back to the river… Alessia pulled up pictures that folks from the first trip to the water fall posted and we looked at the surroundings trying to asses where it was taken.

A view, looking back at where we had gone up, up, up in search of the waterfall.

We decided to turn around and to walk back the way we came.  As we retraced our steps we continued to take in the beauty, noticing a different perspective than the one we had on the way ‘there.’  We came back to the stone house and bridge made from pipes. We admired the rocks and the flowing water.  We asked ourselves if this was the rock in the posted picture of the waterfall. We decided, while it looked similar it was not the same as this was not a waterfall… so we continued on. On our way back we encountered two other folks from our training as their path literally intersected with ours.  We exchanged what we had been doing for the day and at that moment we learned that we HAD MADE IT TO THE WATERFALL.

The waterfall was at the stone house and pipe made bridge. While we had been expecting water rushing over or out from the side of the mountain, the waterfall was a series of rocks in which the water was rushing over or falling over the rocks. See what I mean about expectations?  The whole time we were ‘looking for something specific,’ we set forth with an expectation, a destination in our mind and had our focus set on that expectation- water falling from the side of a mountain, with a pool that we could get in to and swim. We actually spent time at the waterfall- twice, once on the way ‘there’ and then on the way back from ‘there.’   

This is it, the waterfall!

We witnessed its beauty and enjoyed its sound and we did not even know that it was the waterfall we ‘sought’ to see.  We had such an expectation of what our waterfall was to be, we didn’t see this waterfall as a waterfall.  We did however enjoy the walk, the journey, the silence and the company of one another and of nature. Just as it was meant to be.

I love life and am grateful to receive a beautiful lesson.

Laughing out loud, with a heart full of love and a soul full of light,

HUGS

Sara

Another Thing I am Doing....

According to Ansula, a twelve year old here, I am doing very well eating with my hands. Yep. That’s right. I was complimented on my ability to eat with my hands and I am feeling G. R. E. A. T about it.

This is how it came about.  Ansula and I have been sitting near each other during meals.  The other day, she was sitting across from me and asked, “Is this your first time in India?”  I shared that it was not, that I had an opportunity to come to this beautiful country last year for a month.  “Is this your first time eating with your hands?,” she asked.  “No, I ate with my hands last visit and I have been eating with my hands since I arrived this visit.”

She shared that she often watches Westerners eat and a lot of Westerners visit the ashram (I have been with eight others in my time here). She has noticed that many of the Westerners, when eating with their hands use a similar movement.  She motioned with her hands as she talked, “They pick the food up like this (using a scooping motion similar to, all that comes to me is a backhoe) and put it in their mouth like this (she raised her elbow high so that it was higher than her shoulder and her hand was angled down towards her mouth, she turned her wrist so her palm and fingers were facing her mouth and brought them close).

Me and my thali plate.

I, she shared through gestures, use a fine grasp of the food in my hand, drop my elbow down near my waist with my fingers up towards my mouth and bring the food in to my mouth (so my finger tips are facing up and my palm is folded, as if it is holding an egg inside), which he shared is similar to how Indians eat. I’m smiling because I pay very close attention to people and I have been watching folks eat so I can learn.  Oh the power of modeling and observation, a true foundation for learning!

She explained that she has always eaten with her hands, since she was a baby and that when she eats with a spoon, she gets sick. “I don’t know why, I always do, so I only eat with my hands.” I have heard other Indians share this with me as well. Maybe it is because,  part of the experience of eating with their hands is to feel the food, to connect with it and to feel the temperature.  Touching the food also signals the brain to alert the stomach that food is coming, so the stomach is prepared to receive the food and improve digestion.

I am so excited to hear this observation and feedback.  And this is not only using roti to hold my food. I am eating rice, vegetables and even yogurt with my hands!

In pure delight and joy, with a heart full of love and a soul full of light,

HUG

Sara

Electricity

Electricity is an interesting thing here in India.

The one thing you can guarantee is that the sun will rise every morning and darkness will arrive every night. She is consistent, dedicated and devoted to bringing light.  At times she is hidden behind clouds, yet her presence is known as she has brought light to end the darkness of night.

One can rely on light that the sun or Surya brings. 

One can also rely on the electricity going out.

You can be going about your day, having a conversation, eating lunch, in a yoga class listening to the teacher on her microphone, warming your feet by the heater, heating water to take a hot shower, or typing on your computer and the power goes out. You know what? Folks carry on, doing what they are doing. It is as if no one notices. Yet, they do ‘notice,’ they simply to not add value to it. The power went out. The power goes out. That is what happened. That is what happens. No need to panic. No need to comment. No need to do anything different. For only the power went out. Everything else remains the same. 

While everything remains the same, the power comes back on. And, again, that is what happens. No need to comment. No need to acknowledge. There is no need. Simply the power came back on.

Simply Beautiful.

What Have you Learned So Far?

The actual question that came from Aman when we were sitting around the fire in the Himalayas was, “Sara, you have many years on us, what are some important lessons to impart to us?”  I knew that Aman was referring back to a lunch conversation we had a month before, we were in a restaurant over looking Ma Ganga in the Laxman Jhula area of Rishikesh and we were talking about money. Actually, he and his childhood friend visiting for a wedding and a conversation arose about “time off” which lead to both of them sharing the need, they feel, to “chase money.” While both of them enjoy their work, neither of them are passionate about it.  Aman works to develop backend software for large healthcare companies in the US. He has been in Dehli for some time and due to the terrible, absolutely terrible air quality, he has decided to put his health first and switch jobs and locations to a different city- at the end of the month he will be moving to Hyderabad. When this came up in the conversation, his friend remarked, the pollution is going to follow. Wherever the work goes, the population grows and pollution will come.

Later that night, I was reading This is That by Anandji and I came upon these words:

“The more the person chases the less they have. So the way to prosperity is not by chasing it. It is by raising one’s deserving power.”

A message arrived for me within the text too.  I had been and have been working on observing myself and noticing my actions, reactions, tendencies and habits and  how I was really aware of them now that I am out of my familiar comfort zone in the USA.  I read:

“Another meaning of tapah, is self-mastery, of watching oneself, mindful of not cultivating any level of dependency…. Tapah is also when we go on pilgrimages when we step out of our comfort zone, challenge ourselves……Tapah on that level is the practice of pushing the envelope, putting you out of your comfort* zone, cultivating tapah in your life because if you stay within your bubble, your bubble will, after a while consume you.”

*(As I began to type comfort I actually typed conform. Which I find fascinating… my awareness is around what I have let conform me- again, the habits, the ways, the routines the comforts.)

So when we were sitting around the fire and Aman asked, “Sara, you have many years on us, what are some important lessons to impart to us?”  I was grateful and honored to think about how I would answer as a 42 (read forty-tworiffic) woman!

Sitting under the vast Indian sky full of stars in front of a fire it was easy to share the importance of being present in the moment. Many of the opportunities that have presented themselves to me have this as a lesson or theme.  The only time I have is NOW.  What is in the past is in the past, only accessible in my mind, in the memory of my mind. And what is in the future has not yet arrived. For when I get to that future moment, I am there, I am no longer in the previous moment. The people, the feelings, the locations, the moment- all of that has passed and is only accessible in my mind.  So when I am here and I think about what has happened, I am no longer here, I return there, where I was. When I am here and I think about what might happen, I go there, no longer here.  From my experience, when I am not here, when my mind is somewhere in the past or thinking about what I am going to do or say in what might happen in the future, I am missing out on the beautiful moments that are unfolding in front of me RIGHT NOW. It is important to be present, be here, in the present moment.

I have shared a bit about my desire to control.  For most of my life I have had a strong desire to control, not necessary by force although there have been moments when I have raised my voice or clenched my teeth out of frustration and anger because I am not in control and all I want to do it control. Another opportunity that continues to present itself to me is being at peace with what is happening around me, since I cannot be in control.

At the yoga training, I went in to silence for 36 hours. I chose to go in to silence because I was annoyed terribly by the lack of intention folks have with their words. Mindless chatter had me seeking solitude and I am such rule follower I was even more irritated that folks were ‘breaking a rule.’ It is one thing, my mind said, to break silence for yourself, it is another, and rudely so, to ask someone else to break it. So, my rational mind thought, I’ll show them, if they cannot be quiet and mindful of themselves, I will.

In general being in silence, I found was easy, since, up until I chose to be in “official” silence (as indicated by wearing a badge) I had been really secluding myself. We (meaning most of us) were naturally in silence, because we were asked to, from the moment we woke up until after our first class, during lunch. Which on most days was around 2.

Our mornings went like this:

6:00 wake up

6:30 puja- morning mantra (Man- means heart, tra means expansion and liberation, mantra means working with the expansive energy of the electromagnetic field of the heart. Anahata, meaning the "unstruck sound," is the heart center, the beginning of sound. The first mantra was the heartbeat)

7:00 mediation

7:45 tea break (I spent time in reflection and writing along the river)

8:30 morning journey which was usually 2 hours (a journey is our morning yoga practice with asana (poses), pranayama (breath work- expanding energy as we breathe) and kriya (it literally means "to work with energy, to generate electricity." Kriyas combine repetitive movement and mantra).

10:45/11 breakfast

11:45/12/12:15 first class

2/2:15 lunch (it is at this time that we were “supposed” to break silence)

I spent the first eight (8) hours of my day in silence, and when I wasn't in silence I chose to be alone by the river, reading, walking or sitting near a tree. So on the second day of "silence," actually wearing the tag to indicate to others that I was not talking, I had an insight. I had been noticing since the first day of silence that the sign/tag kept turning around and the word silence was hidden from others and turned toward me. I would take off the string from around my neck, turn the sign around and then again, I noticed it would be facing towards me.  On one occasion, I actually unclipped the sign from the string and reclipped it so the word silence was facing out.

You can see the blue string around my neck, it is holding the Slient tag.

During lunch on the second day of silence, a tree caught my eye. I had seen the tree and glanced at it many times. On this day it spoke to me, beckoning me to come towards it. I stood, walked and while standing in front of the tree, admiring its roots, its structure, its being, I received the message, "Sara, it is not about being silent to control the outside, it is about creating inner silence."  Ahhh, I thought, yes, so true. I cannot control what is happening around me, not what folks are saying or doing. I. can. not. control. What I can do is be mindful of the choice I have on how to respond.

If that was not BIG enough, I also was able in the moment to acknowledge that part of what was happening in my mind was judgment and placing value on what was being said and by who..... WHOA! THIS IS HUGE! 

At my 200 hour Yoga Teacher Training (that is taking me time to process. I am thinking about how I want to share that experience) graduation I picked a card. Anandji (Anand is his name, you add "ji" to the end as a sign of respect) has these cards in a deck called "Got it or not?" and at graduation we each selected a card. I chose a card with an image of a moon on it, since that morning, for my last puja, I looked up and saw the moon in the morning sky. This is what the card said:

I mean.... could it be any more fitting?  This is how life has been presenting itself to me here in India. I am aware and noticing something and messages to reinforce or provide an opportunity to look deeper present themselves.... and I see opportunities everywhere.  

Then, the idea of silence and controlling others came to me on my trek.  I am used to walking in silence, in a contemplative place, a reflective place. And two of the three people I was with enjoyed singing and talking and they had an opinion about everything (can you hear the judgment).  It was the same while sitting around the fire.  And on the rare occasions I chose to spoke, I was cut off.  I was struggling, big time. I had an expectation - that my trek in the Himalayas would be quiet, reflective, contemplative, present- and really it was, because I was able to chose to be in that place, not in the place where the folks I was with were. At one point Aman shared, "Sara, you look like you are in deep thought." Another opportunity to learn about myself and my expectations and my cultural norms was in the tent before bed or in the morning, when the conversation was loud, not a gradual way to wake or end the day, rather an abrupt waking with a full voice, no whisper. I could choose to be annoyed (which at times I was) or I could choose to accept or I could choose to get up and leave the tent (even when it was 5 am) or focus on my breath and go to sleep... 

This idea seeking control of things externally has been coming to me, so a huge lesson that continues to present itself is being at peace with what is happening around me, knowing that I always have a choice and the one thing I can control is accessible by turning inwards and stilling my mind. 

The law of Trinity comes in three and I have been envisioning a trident piercing through my old stories, patterns and ways. So in the spirit of three (and my beloved Sister, sister), another huge lesson/message that I am embracing is honoring my true Self. Being here, being alone and spending so much time with myself has afforded me the opportunity to realize (to see with real eyes) my tendencies to compare myself to others.  What I am doing and what others are doing will be different. The reason they will be different is because we each have our own path and my path is my path and their path is their path. My path is not their path and their path is not my path.  It is easy to say. It is easy to type. It requires a mindful practice to embrace. 

My path is my path; it is unique to me. I find myself returning to this message in my journal. It creeps up in ways that try to hide themselves in self-doubt, mostly through the question, “What are you doing here?” The question has more weight when I spend time thinking about what folks are doing in the USA or what stories folks are sharing on Instagram.  I am not beyond it. I am not above it. I am aware of it. I am aware of the snare that I get caught in when I determine my worth based on what someone else is doing, what I think I should be doing based on what someone else is doing or what something else thinks of me.

While sitting around the fire, Aman and I talked about this.  For some moments of the trek were about taking pictures and selfies to post to say, ‘look at me,” “look where I am,” and/or “look at what I am doing.” At one point, I was told that we were no longer going on because they heard there was no snow and they wanted to see snow. Since there was no snow we were turning around (more on that message and experience later). Aman shared that for some, it is about getting a like or how many views one has that determines if something has value or is valuable. And, getting a picture in the snow so they could post it was what was of value and since there was no snow, no picture, no value, no need.

The driving desire to do something based on what someone might think or how someone might react or how someone might feel concerns me. It concerns me because it deeply resonates with me. As someone who has spent most of my life living based on what other people think of me, allowing other people to define me or to take on a false sense of identity based on someone’s misperception of me, I want to shout out loud, “ONLY YOU CAN DETERMINE YOUR WORTH! “

Now that I type this, I realize that I was resistant to writing, to sharing my experiences for putting them in to words provides an opportunity or space for someone to place value on them or judge them.  And you know what, I am writing this for me. I am writing, to capture, to condense, to put into words what I am experiencing in real time, while I am here on this journey.

I am grateful for the question that Aman asked me while sitting by the fire. I am honored that he took a moment from his day to inquire, to ignite within me an opportunity to reflect on what I am learning, what opportunities are arising and what experiences I am having.  So, Aman, my dear, here are three things, in writing that I would like to share with you:

Be in the present moment

Be at peace with what is happening, the one thing you can control is your mind

Honor your true Self

With a heart full of love and a soul full of light,

HUG

Sara

How has the trip been overall?

This is question posed by my dear friend Sara.  I am grateful for questions because they make me pause before I respond. How has the trip been overall?

Since today marks two months being here in India, I feel compelled to respond.

The first thought is that this is the longest I have been away from familiar aspects of comfort, the known in my life. Yet, as I type, I am here with myself and still holding on to some known aspects of my self that I am ready to release, to let go of. I heard a phrase the other day that goes something like this, “If you don’t have a tight grip, there is no reason to let go.” That one struck me big time. What am I holding on to? These old patterns, stories, perceptions that are not the real, true me. Rather they have been projected on to me, ways to be, things to do. And, while that is true, I too, take responsibility and ownership, for I have fully allowed them to become me, to become a part of me, at times define me.

I am not the victim. I am not the effect. Nothing is done to me.

Everything is done for me. 

Every moment is an opportunity for me to see, observe, and witness something within myself to use to grow, to evolve, to transcend.  

Today, as I laid in bed with a stomach issue (that started at 3:30 am-oh so not fun) I find myself returning to this question that has been arising- What am I doing here?

What am I doing here? 

What a deep question to ponder.  I am here. All of the events in my life brought me here to this very moment, sitting in my room at the Sri Ram Ashram typing these words to you.  I am here. Right now I am here. How did I arrive here? While there is a piece of me that acted, that took action to make this happen- to purchase a plane ticket, to have dinner with someone I met at a sound healing, to reach out to Sri Ram to arrange a visit- yes, there are “things” that I have done to arrive here right now.

There are also “things” that have happened in my life, experiences and opportunities that have lead me to this very moment.  Things that I did not “plan out,” rather situations were presented to me.  From those situations I had a choice on how to respond and it is the choice, the response that has lead me here.  Yet, I would not be here if it were not for the opportunities to make the choice.

I have said, felt and still feel a deep pull to be here.  While I am not sure what that pull is leading me towards, I do trust it- most of the time. I say ‘most of the time’ because there are moments like today, when I ask what am I doing here? When I am in a place of asking, I am not in a place of trusting the path. It is real. I’m sure many of you have experienced things when you ‘just KNOW,’ or something ‘flows through you with ease and grace, that you were not even doing, you were simply being.’

That is what I am doing here. I am simply being.  Being present. Being in the moment. Witnessing the miracle that is life right now, unfolding before my eyes, with such simplicity and grace.

Such a moment happened tonight at dinner, after the day of pondering why am I here, what am I doing? As I heard the dinner bell, I sent a message though WhatsApp to my family, put down my phone, got my thali plate, cup and spoon and made my way to dinner. I sat down and  thought, being here is like being in New York City. I am all alone, yet surrounded by life. There is little quiet here in India. At least the India that I know. (As I type a truck sounds his horn- and some horns here in India are unique to each truck, like an individualized announcement). I have found that to be here, to be present and in the moment, I have to turn inwards and become silent.  Silencing the inner mind- the one that wants to control, to judge, to criticize, to place value.  None of those things, which were huge patterns and habits of mine, work here. They don’t.  At times I have them, the desire to ask people to stop talking or to lower their voices, yet, what good will that do. Instead of seeking and wanting to control others, I turn inward. I notice that I want to control. I witness it. I see it for what it is. And that is that.

So tonight, as I sat on the floor preparing to eat dinner, I watched.  I sat quietly and watched.  I turned my head and witnessed something so beautiful, so simple; tears began to flow from my eyes, as they are revisiting the event.  Tanya (she is 3) and her ma were sitting next to each other. They both had their plates of food in front of them when a gentleman from the kitchen, a cook, brought over a box of sweets.  He lowered the box into their view (for he was standing and they were sitting on the floor). Ma selected a sweet, and the gentleman placed it in her clean hand (as her other hand had rice and dal on it since she was eating) and Tanya reached into the box and choose her sweet. Ma lifted the sweet to her forehead, to her third eye center and said a prayer. She lowered the sweet to her mouth and took bite. Tanya watched and followed, lifting her sweet to her third eye before eating it.

That is how we learn. By watching. Witnessing. Observing. Noticing and then doing.  A moment that lasted maybe twenty seconds was so simple and so beautiful at the same time. How many of those moments have I missed in this life?

So, how has the trip been overall? 

It has been a collection of moments, opportunities for me to observe, to witness, to learn, to grow.

I am grateful for every. single. one. of. them.

In love, full of love and light,

Sara

Where I am Called Didi.

I am here. The Sri Ram Ashram has been my home for a week now. I was here for the transition from one year/decade to the next and I have been held, accepted and welcomed since the moment that I arrived.

I learned about the Sri Ram Ashram in a way that India often offers. I was in Rishikesh and was invited to attend a sound healing mediation.  The friend that invited me ended up not going and I did. It was there that I met Anna. She too was at the sound healing and after I invited her to join me for dinner.   Over soup and ginger, lemon, honey tea, we shared pieces of our experience.  I mentioned I was interested in learning from woman and children. She had spent a few weeks here at the Ashram with a group from California and she shared that there were six babies that needed to be held.  And here I am.

The courtyard looking toward the girls rooms

I am holding babies. I am holding them. I am rocking them. I am singing to them. I am staring at them. I am sitting with them. I am making noises with them. I am feeding them. I am burping them. I am simply being with them. And it is beautiful.

The ashram is an orphanage. All of the children here (there are about 33 living full time and since it was winter break many of the older siblings have been here, making it close to 50) have been found without families. While they each have their own story on how they arrive here, all of them are loved and welcome with open arms as I was.

Look who I found here, Hanuamanji! I could not even make this up!

The ashram sits on 16 acres and has a living area for boys, girls, employees (who do not work directly with children) and guests.  Children have a ‘ma’ that nurtured, nourished and provided for them when they were little, if they arrived young.  Each ‘ma’ cares directly for 2 children, they can be close in age or the ages can differ. For example, I spend most of my time with Prena (nine months) and Shahtam (two months)and their ma Sunita who I respectfully call Maji. Guari (6 years with special rights) and Aanya (4 months) share a room and a ‘ma,’ while Tanya (who completed her second year of age and is in her third year) and Madhavi (who completed her 1 year and is in her second year) are with a different ma. Anisha (six months) and Vidhi (five months) have two ma’s, one of them is Swapna who is American who arrived her with her Guru Hari Ram or know here affectionately as Babaji who had a vision to create a space where children we are part of a loving family. 

The phrase or motto of Sri Ram is Love Loves Love.

While I have not been upstairs to the girls’ rooms, they have shared rooms and live together by age. The younger children aged five-nine/ten have a ma that shares a room with them. In general though, everyone who is older looks after all of the children. There is a shared responsibility for raising, nurturing and disciplining everyone.  And no older sibling spares the responsibility of showing his or her age.

view of my third floor room 22 from the outside

view of my room from inside

Each day at 6:15 am we hear the wake up bell. It is not an electronic bell.  It is a metal stick hitting metal pieces.  Morning aarti (prayer) follows and children who wake and attend get a chocolate. The breakfast bell is at 7:15.  The children gather their thali, a traditional meal plate (which is a metal plate with divisions in it- similar to a picnic plate) and meet in a line in the courtyard. The girls are in one line and they boys are in another.  They walk to the dining/eating room and enter only after taking off their shoes.  The boys sit to the left and the girls sit to the right (currently there are six boys who live here and the other 27 are girls). The cooks and older children come around with serving size portions of the meal and call it out, offering it as a choice. The children say ‘ha’ or tilt their head meaning ‘yes’ and point to which section of the thali plate they would like it placed.  They can also say ‘ni’ or ‘niheen’ or tilt their head in a different way to indicate ‘no.’ Once everyone has their food they join together in a prayer, while they say the same prayer, I have noticed at times the boys say it when they are ready and the girls say it when they are ready. Most folks eat with their fingers, some eat with a spoon. We all sit on the floor.  Some times children are fed (I have seen Tanya use a spoon and eat from a bowl on her own and I have also seen her ma feed her). Once they are done eating, they each are responsible for washing their thali plate, bowl (if they have one), spoon (if they used it) and cup.

There is some time between breakfast and study hall for children to return their dishes to their room and for them to play. The bell rings at 10ish for study hall, and while I am here during winter break, they only days they have taken off from study hall is Sunday and New Years Day.  Everyone who is ‘school’ aged, meaning older than five, gathers their book, workbooks, photocopied papers and writing tools and meets in a room to work. After about two hours, around 12:15 we hear the lunch bell.  After lunch is a time of rest, before a chai/snack break at 2:45/3.  From then until 6 children have the opportunity to play and explore on their own.

The sound of the bell at 6:15 signals the start of aarti/puja, which is lead by the children.  The elder children do the fire and water ceremony, play the drums and the harmonium and start the puja. The younger boys blow on the conch shell, which they love to do! The aarti ends with 3 minutes of mediation, in which the room is quiet.  Dinner is served around 7:15 and after children have time to study or watch TV for one hour before lights out. 

I wondered before I arrived, what my role would be here.  Sri Ram Ashram is a functioning family that guests step in to.  So while I am here or if I am not here, the same routine continues to honor consistency for the children.  My role here it to help with the babies. I have found a connection with Maji, Prena, Shahtam, Ma, Tanya and Madhavi and I spend most of my time with them, where I am called, Didi or big sister.

With a huge smile and love radiating from within,

HUG

Didi

Seeing Things as They Are

India has an interesting way of presenting herself.  I have been humbled and at the same time grateful to receive these messages…

A blanket is a blanket.  It provides a cover, maybe even some weight, when I go to sleep at night.  

A blanket is a blanket, even when it is damp, cold, even when it smells and has dirt on it.

A blanket is a blanket.

A bus is a bus. It takes me from one place to another. It brings me to a destination.

A bus is a bus even when it is really bumpy, so bumpy that my muscles are tired from working simply to stay in my seat.

A bus is a bus even when the window slides open on every bump allowing the cold, cold air to come in, which is an invitation to wear my sweater, jacket, buff, hat and gloves all at the same time.

A bus is a bus.

A shower is a shower. It comes out of a shower-head, not a faucet. 

A shower is a hot shower when you turn on the water heater 30 minutes before you plan to take a shower and get enough hot water to wet, put the shampoo in and rinse it out.

A shower is a shower when it is so cold you do a dance for it to be over and ask yourself, would you rather have the cold water sprinkle over head, or poured on you by your own hand from a bucket… (I have done both).

A shower is a shower when the water is so hot you don’t want to pour it on your body, yet you desire the warmth so you do anyway.

A shower is a shower.

A towel is a towel. It usually dries your hands or body.

A towel is a towel even when you touch it after washing your hands and your hands stay just as wet.

A towel is a towel that you appreciate wrapping around yourself after a cold shower and are grateful to have something covering you as you step from the cold floor of the bathroom to the cold floor of your room.

A towel is a towel even when it is still wet from the shower you took three days ago.

A towel is a towel especially when it is the one your mom purchased for you because she knew a quick drying towel would be a nice treat.

A towel is a towel.

A sweater is a sweater.

It provides you warmth during the day and at night when you wear it to sleep.

A sweater is a sweater.

A toilet is a toilet.

A toilet that you can sit on is a toilet that you can sit on. Even when it is wet from a cold shower, or a hot shower that dripped water on the seat and is now cold.

A toilet that you can sit on is a toilet that you do not have to squat down to use and then pour water down to flush it.

A toilet that you stand on, is a toilet that you stand on. And you have to stand in just the right place, not too far forward to too far back (I have learned from experience) and when you are done you pour water down the drain to “flush it.”

A toilet is a toilet and when you need to use it you have to remember to bring your own paper or wipes, because in India toilet paper is not a guarantee.

With a toilet that you can sit on, you can flush it, only after you put your toilet paper in the trash bin because the plumbing here is not used to toilet paper.

A toilet is a toilet and sometimes I wish I was outside going in the wilderness, reminding myself I can breathe through my mouth and not my nose.

A toilet is a toilet, and I am usually grateful to have access to one.

A toilet is a toilet.

 A utensil is a utensil.

Most folks use utensils to eat food with.

A utensil is a utensil that I used and became surprised mid-way through my meal when I realized it was the first time in eight days that I had used a utensil to eat a meal.

A utensil is a utensil.

Images from Daily Life

Maybe you are interested in seeing some of the things I see on a daily/regular basis here in India. From these images you may gain a better understanding of how things are.  While some things look different, I can assure you, we are more alike and similar than different. 

Folks here in India go to work, bring their children to school, shop to buy fruit, stop for lunch at a stand on the side of the road, take a break to sip chai and talk with friends, warm themselves around a fire, take selfies, sit by the river, get dressed up, ride bicycles, swing on swings, climb trees, have dogs, tend to gardens, take out the trash, sweep outside of their storefront, go to the market on Sunday, deliver food, sell things, ask you to buy things, fly kites, honk at one another (* see below), wait in traffic, talk on their phone, laugh, hug, hold hands, dance, sing, hang laundry to dry and oh so much more….

*There are so many variations of horn honking.  One may honk a horn to say:

Move over

It’s okay to pass me

I see you

I am coming around the bend

I am announcing that I am here

I am behind you

With a heart full of gratitude, love, light and joy,

HUGS

Sara

Grateful for Food that Nourishes Me

I have been saying a prayer to and for my food since I arrived. At times, I forget and mid chew I stop and pray.  My prayer is a version of a song that I learned from Erin Solomon and Erin Tanzer at a TSS workshop.  While the specifics of the prayer change each meal, I am consistent. For example, last night Kajal, who is 7 was slurping her milk and talking with her sister in between. Her voice brings me such joy and in that moment, I expressed sincere gratitude for that.

I close my eyes, bow my head and place my hands, palms down over my food and say:

I thank the earth for feeding my belly.

I thank the trees for the air we breathe.

I thank the sun for warming my bones.

I thank the river for nourishing my soul.

I thank the ether for guiding my way on.

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti

Children, Women and Men

I have spent close to 2 months here in India.  In the next couple of days I will arrive at the Sri Ram Ashram/Orphanage and Sri Ram Vidya Mandir (a school for local children) founded by Baba Hari Dass. I wanted to share what I have experienced in regards to children specifically.  To do so, I think it is easiest to write out what I have seen in list form, rather than paragraph.  This list is by no means exhaustive and it is in no order. It arises from my thoughts and memories, mostly images in my mind.

The Babas and the toddler. You can see the Baba that is closest is waving to me, as I watched them for a long time. The Baba in the distance, near the bench is with the toddler.

A father feeding his infant child with his hands in front of the door to his house

A mother passing her son off to his father after stepping off of a bus

A mother making room for her son to move past her to get a seat at the window

Children sitting on a pile of rocks on the side of the road while their parents did road construction.

A child holding a water bottle to his mouth, spilling it and the father taking it from his hands.

Children walking around in the sand/dirt while their parents brought bricks up flights of stairs to build walls in a new hotel.

A child standing on the floor in between the legs of his father on a scooty

A woman breastfeeding her child in a shop while taking with other women

A child sitting beside his mom while she sold plastic water bottles to hold water from Ma Ganga

A mother approaching me to say her daughter thinks we look alike and can we take a selfie

A father turning the whistle around so his daughter can blow into in from the right direction to make a sound

Two Babas playing hide and seek with a toddler on the ghat next to Ma Ganga

A man running downstairs and outside to get the kite stuck in the tree

A father sitting with his child, rubbing her back while she coughed at the doctors office

A father bringing his son water after he threw up from the bumpy bus ride

A father lifting his bare bottomed child up in to the air and laughing

A father picking up his son who was in tears because the ride at the mall ended

An eleven day old baby wrapped in blankets next to a fire surrounded by his mom, grandma, aunties and cousins who were all laughing

An auntie telling her niece, no, to not touch the matches and the fire, and the child watching the auntie to see if she would do something if she did touch the fire

A child sitting with her father at his shop/cart playing with paper

An older girl telling her younger brother to come, to move out of the way from the cow

Children approaching me, asking me to purchase flowers and if I had American money

Families playing on the playground in the city

A child chasing his flip flop as it floated down a diversion stream

A mother placing a pfd (personal floatation device) on her child before a boat ride

A child approaching a Hanuman statue and kissing it

A child hiding behind his mom when a monkey approached him

A brother pushing his sister in a swinging chair while his brother moved around in a walker

A mother holding her child while sitting on the steps asking for food

A mother sitting outside of a bakery wiping the face of a child

A child sitting in his mothers lap in a full car

Children playing cricket

Children playing a game where you toss a rock forward, walk to it and then toss it back to the next one in line

Children singing “jingle bells” on Christmas Eve while playing a game that involved clasping hands to form a barrier of sorts and then jumping over it

Children flying kites

These children are are playing tag while waiting for their kite to be retrieved…. it landed in a tree.

In light, full of gratitude and a lot of love,

HUGS

Sara

Hanumanji

This post is a collection of journal entires, I write for myself. Thank you understanding the flow is my flow ….

Written on September 21st.

On day six of releasing what no longer serves me (yes I know this is a journey), I found myself connecting with Hanuman.

I first learned of Hanuman on one of my initial trips to my yoga mat at Akasha.  I was during splits, monkey pose or Hanumanasna. I recall Neesha mentioning Lord Hanuman taking the a leap of faith to save Sita. (In the story, Ramayana, Ravana the King of the Demons kidnapped Sita, wife of Rama. Rama gave Hanuman his ring and asked him to leap to Lanka to save Sita and bring her home).

On this day, nearly 11 years later, I was at Lindsay’s Saturday Yin Yang, I was in Hanumanasna, listening to the a music piece that was dedicated to Hanuman when I felt a deep feeling in my chest. Slowly tears welled up in the corner of my eyes. I began to cry. I sat with it, I held space for it. Then we laid down into a heart opener and I really released. The cry came from deep within. Lindsay noticed and rubbed the upper part of my chest and neck. Within the tears and the release, I received a message.

Hanuman was born with magnificent gifts. Gifts that to him, were part of his essential self. He was whole.  As we all are.

As he grew, Hanuman experienced life, being his true authentic self and some folks around him had little patience for Hanuman’s capacities. They found his actions frustrating and mischievous, and they told him so…

Over time Hanuman, became less like his true self and more like those who surrounded him.

Years passed and there was a need.  Hanuman was asked to save Sita.  How  Hanuman thought. What do you mean? I am not capable of leaping that far….

See, Hanuman lost the connection to his true self, his abilities and capabilities.

He did not believe.

And, the adults needed him.

 So he lept, he lept so far

 And he grinned from ear to ear.

I can do it, he thought. I am capable.

I saw this art of Hanuman on the side of a building in Laxman Jhula.

Written during the Sattva Summit, in the Yamkeshwar Garhwal section of Rishikesh

Anjali lead us in a kriya set to honor Hanuman. It was beautiful. Hanuman’s love is so deep. He rips open this chest to show his love for Ram as Hanuman has Ram and Sita in his heart. Hanuman continues to speak to me- from the first time I learned of him at Akasha, when I heard he leapt.

My knowledge and connection to him grows deeper. From him knowing his potential, power, capabilities, capacities. I thought it was about children, which it is and it is also about me. I lost myself. I lost my connection to myself through so many experiences most of which I put others needs before mine. In some way, some how it got internalized, that by putting others needs before mine is a way to be accepted and be acknowledged. I believed for so long, that when I put myself second to others then I would fit in, I would be accepted.

Now I am noticing, that when I lose touch with myself, from my thoughts, to not being an inconvenience or a burden, to not speaking up for feeling the need to conform and do like others, I am engaging in self-destructive ways. In this desire to be accepted and included I have lost a level of respect for myself.  When I noticed that disconnection I sit with it. I am kind to myself. I am patient. I am understanding. I am not in judgement. At times I sing,  “I am I, said, I. I am me, said me. I am exactly who I am supposed to me,” or “Love me for who I am, not who you want me to be,” or think of Marlo Thomas’s Free To Be You and Me.

 November 16, 2019 at the Parmarth Niketan Ashram in Rishikesh

I made it to Hanumanji! I did not bring an offering to him.  Rachel shared that not bringing an offering is like showing up to someone’s home empty handed and expecting to be fed. So I offered myself to him, my love, my gratitude and devotion.  I saw this statue last year when we came for the aarti. I did not spend any time in front of it and I did not have a photograph of it. Throughout the year I felt pulled to visit him, to sit and be.

Now, I am sitting in front of him I am reminded that I am here to be with myself. To be with my Self, with no distractions. To get in touch with my inner Self. To get to know my Self. To be inspired by my Self. That is my work. Integration of the Summit, what does that mean? To be with myself- to have the courage to look deep within- to look at the stories I’ve told and tell myself, the identities I’ve encased around/on myself- identities that I have allowed to define me. Integration is that, and a sense of trust. A deep knowing that I am on my path and all will be revealed to me when I am ready- I write this often and it is my truth. I am being guided. I am honoring the call and the messages and acknowledging the opportunities to learn, to see, to let go of all that constrains me, holds me, binds me, that which limits me… so I can be a leader to others away from suffering towards love.

There he is, with Rama and Sita in his heart!

November 21, 2019 in the Tapovan, Laxman Jhula area of Rishieksh

Seeing children at Ramana’s Garden and Mother Miracle, I was able to witness their joy, their enthusiasm, their smiles, their eyes. I saw their dedication to themselves. Seeing children brought me to tears, tears of joy and tears from deep within.  Folks believe in these children, children from the slums who have very little and provide them with an opportunity to see that there are other ways of life.

They are seen and provided an opportunity to leave their homes for the day to be immersed in a supportive caring, nurturing environment in which they can learn, be exposed to Language, Reading, Writing, English, Sanskrit, Hindi, Math, Science, Art Music and Movement…To have time away, to not have to work or beg for money, to sell things. Instead, they have a glimpse of a different path, to see that there is more out there for them to be.

Mother Miracle was founded by Shahla Ettefagh. Her story is as powerful as she is. I was in AWE. You can learn more at the Mother Miracle website here.

Vandama and her class! There are 24 students. Their ages range from 8-10. They welcomed me with a song!

I am humbled. I am in awe. I am grateful. I am full of love. I am reminded, that I am here to learn from these children and the women that surround them, that is why I am here. That is my work.

In joy and with gratitude,

Sara

My Name in Hindi

I stopped to get some chai (two types, chai and chai masala- the first is sweeter and the latter has more spice) after my visit to the banks of Ma Ganga for my morning mediation. It was my first morning in the Tapovan section or west side of the Laxman Jhula Bridge in Rishikesh. While sipping on my hot chai, I met Rehka and Tarak who own the stand and Alok, who owns a Scorpion Enterprises (yes, I know), a shop across the street. 

this is Saara written in Hindi

We began a conversation about the meaning of names. Rehka means black diamond and Tarak means stars.  Sara or Saara as they say here in India, means support, to help.  As they shared they moved their bodies to be supported by the case that held candies, chips and other sweet goods, they leaned back and were supported as they sat. I smiled. Yes. It makes sense that my name means to help, to support, to be there so one can lean back. I smile, recalling my favorite sign in American Sign Language is to encourage, it all makes sense.

Sattva Summit 2019

“I am home,” I said to Surat my driver, as we turned into the driveway at Sattva Retreat Center while a feeling of ease traveled throughout my body.   

Surat picked me up from the airport in Dehradun after traveling for 12 hours… A journey that included showing my Visa for the first time when leaving Dubai, arriving in the international Terminal 3 in Delhi and taking my first bus ride in India to Terminal 1.  The various sounds of the horns, the flashing of the dippers (lights), the scent of air mixed with smoke, the cars stopped in the middle (to me) of the road on that ride, welcomed me back. I spent six hours in the Delhi airport where a layer of smoke was visible inside, before boarding a plane for a short one-hour flight up to Dehradun, during which I slept for the first time in 36 hours. 

Surat drove me to the airport when I left Rishikesh last year and it was fitting that he was picking me up and bringing me back to a place that I have held in my heart since I left.  I had been dreaming of having a roadside chai and we stopped alongside Ma Ganga to enjoy a warm chai in a paper cup that some of us use or used to rinse our mouth out after brushing our teeth.  We sat under a tin roof with the sound of rain falling while we sipped the hot, made for us, chai. Monkeys were in the tree above our car and a cow wandered up to eat the scraps and trash left near the road.

I knew where we were, I knew the turn that Surat would take before he took it, sharing, “oh, we are going to go over the bridge now,” as he smiled and drove on.  I hold such a fond memory of Sattva that I have a clear vision in my mind on how to get there. Sattva was the place that provided the space for me to connect with myself, to fall in love with myself and I was on my way back there, to experience more (as I type now, over a week later, tears rise up in my eyes, I have immense gratitude for the space that Sattva is and all that is provides for me and many other folks on a similar journey). I had an opportunity to write a reflection piece on my time at the summit last year. The piece was published in SF Yoga Mag and describes my feelings and emotions as well as a bit of history of Sattva. Here is a link to the piece titled Coming Home to Ourselves.

There was a theme to the summit this year, Cosmic Consciousness. As Sattva described:

“The tuning of the nervous system to acquire that level of receptivity and refinement where one can experience the infinity of nature and the cosmic Self.”

The Summit was designed to have a variety of options each day to deepen our practice and nurture our souls.  I sought the familiarity of waking each day with mediation, spending time reflecting by the water and welcoming the morning sun crest over the Himalayan Mountains.  I joined the 200 other yogis in the Brahmanda Hall for a morning Journey which consisted of kriyas (yoga of electricity), kunadlini (yoga of Shakti), asanas (poses or postures, what many of us know as yoga) and bhakti (yoga of love) lead daily by Anandji, Gurmukh and the Sattva Master Teachers. After our two hour practice we would gather to nourish our body through food. I enjoyed eating my first meal of the day, alone in a hammock in silence reflecting on my morning.  After we would gather for Satsang (wisdom talk) by Anadji and Sadhviji from Paramtath Niketna (Their names are Anand and Sadhvi – we add the ji at the end as a sign of respect and honor). The afternoon provided space for choice. Over the seven days I chose attend a mediation class, a yoga flow class titled Cosmic Womb of Mother Ocean, Conscious Conflict Resolution gathering, slow grounding Sattva Himalayan flow class, a discussion on accessing your Intuition and one on Abundant Living.   At night there were opportunities to do a yin class, a yoga nidra, a guided partner journey, to watch the first three episodes of The Road to Dharma and two cultural experiences with local musician and dancers- the Garhwali Folk Dance of Nanda Devi with Punjabi Dancing and Krishna Lila Dancers.

Grateful for Julie Kling who captured this beautiful moment of PURE JOY!

I had an opportunity to return to the Goddess Temple, to the Temple where the Pandit Madhawanda placed a blessing on my wrist upon my visit last year.  I was excited to return, to see him and to express my gratitude, as the day that I sent emails inquiring about volunteering at orphanages and schools here in India, my thread fell off.  I see it as a sign that I am on the right path and was looking forward to expressing my gratitude and sharing that I am following my path.  After many steps up and sounding the bell to announce my arrival at the temple, I was greeted by a young Indian woman, she was intrigued by the amount of visitors to the temple and inquired with me where I was from and what we were doing. We introduced ourselves to one another and I learned her name is Vandama.  As I made my way inside the temple, I walked towards the Durga Alter and there he was, the Pandit. Tears filled my eyes. I rushed back to gather my phone to show him the picture of us from the previous year. He welcomed me in and invited me to sit. I handed him the gratitude card I wrote and showed him the picture. I cried. He smiled. We embraced and shook each other with joy for a long while!  He offered me another blessing and a kautuka or kalava (the red and yellow string).

from top left: me and Pandit Madhawanda, my new kautuka, sunset and the stairs to the Goddess Temple, Vandama and me, the final steps and entrance bell to the Temple, benches and the Temple, a tree overlooking the Mango (Aamdi in Hindi) Village, and the Pandit and I from 2018.

As a group we gathered to do 108 rounds of the mantra for Durga, Om Dum Durgyah Namiah and we learned about Durga and how Goddess Temples are on top of Mountains (more on that later if you are interested). I found a quiet spot to reflect and write and then heard Vandama say, “Sara, you are a teacher, I respect you very much.” My first thought was, how did she know I was a teacher?. She shared that the Pandit asked her to read my card to him and in the card I wrote that I am back in India this time to work with women and children.  Vandama shared that she too is a teacher, working with children at Ramama’s Garden (one of the places I inquired with to volunteer). We exchanged information vowing to be in touch. The experience at the Goddess Temple was powerful and the story behind it is so deep, I am grateful beyond words can express for the experience and what it will continue to bring to me.

The idea of finding words to describe or to capture the essence, energy and vibration that I experienced at Sattva has been in my mind since I left. Yes, I did yoga. Yes, I had deep and wonderful experiences on my mat and in the space of Sattva. Yes, I saw and met beautiful people.  And it is so much more beyond that.  I decided to return to my journals to pull out a few threads that I wrote while there to give a glimpse into my perspective and experience. Most of the thoughts and reflections shared here are mine. If it is not mine, I will reference who said it after the thought.

I am noticing that it is work to focus on my third eye and do the breath of fire at the same time. When I think, I get off focus. It is better to trust the flow, process rather than think about my breathing. Funny…. Trust the flow and process and get out of my own way. My body knows how to breathe; I am asking it to explore breath in a new way.  

We describe ourselves through the context of our experience.

If you are going to understand something you have to understand it now, for you to understand it is now or it is potential. The only moment is the present moment, for once you get to the next moment, you are there. You can only now say, I am here. - Anandji

The universe sends us people as opportunities to learn. - Sadhviji

I heard a group OM while gathered on the riverside. This is the first time I have heard that sound without being a part of creating the sound. It is a beautiful, low vibrational sound.

Trust is the union of intelligence and integrity- Gurmukh

I laughed and laughed and laughed today when I struggled to do mantra, mudras, breathing and eye movements all at the same time. I could not get out of my head and have my left brain talk to my right side and my right brain talk to my left side at the same time. I will remember this humble moment as a huge marker of the beginning. While some is coming to me with ease, I clearly have not gotten out of my head and I know that I am to step out of my way, to not over think….. Oh lovely day, I will move through it with LOVE!

Do not confuse your ego with individuality, we do not recommend having a healthy disease. – Anandji

Another powerful Journey this morning with the Sattva Master Teachers, I literally kicked my ass! Breathwork, kriyas, asanas and JOY, LAUGHTER and FUN! This experience asks us, me, to look within, to tap in to know my truth, to slice and cut through the ego, stories and identity that defines me, restricts me, confines me. I am so much more than I know. Go to the unknown, possibilities are waiting for me there. In the unknown, possibilities await.

I am a cosmic sneeze.

To be a visionary requires inner education.

Our mind is not the problem. It is the improper use of the mind that is the problem. –Anandji

Be yourself. Don’t conform. No excuses. People will adjust. It is the law of attraction.  When you are abundant, you learn not to conform, you are in your truth.- Bhavini

Be with what is fully, totally, absolutely, for you are invincible. – Anandji

I have responded to the call of service. I have shown up and I am reminded to BE PATIENT, to see what I am meant to do. All will arrive as it is meant to be. Tune in, turn inward, listen. It will be revealed.

So I ask myself, how have I integrated my experiences at the summit… I am willing and dedicated to be with myself, to have the courage to look deep within, to look at the stories I have told and tell myself, the identities I have encased around myself, as well as what and who I have allowed to define me. I have committed to that as well as a sense of trust. A deep knowing that I am on my path and all will be revealed to me when I am ready. I write this last phrase a lot, and it is my truth. I am being guided. I am honoring the call, the messages and acknowledging the opportunities to learn, to see, to let go, to release all that constrains, hold and binds me, that which continues to limit me…

In light, with love, joy and a HUGE hug,

Sara

Here we are, the Sattva family celebrating the culminating journey and a universal prayer; Lokah, Samastah, Sukhino, Bhavanto - MAY ALL THE WORLD BE HAPPY! Dhanyewaad Daniela Botur for capturing this moment.

Abu Dhabi, UAE

While I was researching things to do and explore while in Dubai, I came upon an image of light on white walls and was intrigued. I found out that the picture was taken at the Louvre Museum in Abu Dhabi where there is a dome with cutouts to allow the light through.

Once there, I saw this sign, setting the intention for my experience near the entrance.

I know now, after reflecting on my time there, that the museum did just that. It provided a space for me and others to see humanity in a new light, revealing threads of creativity that connect diverse cultures across thousands of years.  From the beginning, the exhibit wove the delicate stories of early civilizations and the power of females for fertility and abundance, universal religions and the connection between the human and spirit world, Asian trade routes and the silk road, the study of the sea and sky, the connections that brought folks together to gather in circles to share ideas and notions of progress, art and creativity… it was as if the museum itself was speaking to me.

 I learned that in the Middle Ages, the term “marvelous” was used to refer to the mysteries of the spiritual world. Another plaque shared that at that time, various Arab thinkers ensured the survival of ancient knowledge, the study of which underlay the scientific discoveries that would later be called ‘modern science.’ This transition, the plaque continues, characterized by advances in mathematics that were fundamental to all fields of knowledge at the time, and stimulated by exchanges taking place around the planet, represented a crucial turning point in the course of world history.

As you know, I am fascinated by communication, writing and storytelling. There, I was able to see actual artifacts from the beginning of writing, with my own eyes, carvings in diorite and Terracotta and painted limestone, the detail, the richness, the messages conveyed. They brought me to tears.

Left: Tablet with cuneiform inscription, Iraq about 2500 BCE

Middle: Funerary stele of the goldsmith Maa, Egyptian civilization, Egypt 1550-1425 BCE

Right: imhotep, a deified architect shown as a scribe, Egyptian civilization, Egypt 664-332 BCE

Courtesy of Louvre Abu Dhabi

On the Statue of Ramesses II, Pharaoh of Egypt, Egyptian civilization, Egypt, Tanis 1279-1213 BCE

As I made my way through the galleries, I encountered this on a plaque, “Between the 5th and 15th centuries, India was a leading creative centre in the domain of religious sculpture. The lives of venerated individuals were illustrated in works produced to accompany the spread of Buddhism and Hinduism into Central Asia, and from South-East Asia into China, Korea and Japan. Their purpose was to meditation by devotees and their encounter with the divine.

The Divinity Tara in the lalitasana pose, India 800-100, Sandstone

I was struck by the statue of the divinity Tara from India that dates back to 800-1000.  I was recently given a card with the green Tara on it for my birthday and that was the first time I had learned of Tara as a deity who is worshipped to develop certain inner qualities and to understand outer, inner and secret teaching such as compassion, loving kindness and emptiness. That lead me to a piece that I use in my morning mediation practice- Gate Gate Paragate Parasamgate Bodhi Svaha, which translates to Gone, gone, gone… all the way over to the over shore.

As I meandered through the rest of the galleries I learned that “during the Middle Ages, various Arab thinkers ensured the survival of ancient knowledge, the study of which underlay the scientific discoveries that would later be called “modern science.” The transition at the time, was fundamental to the sharing of knowledge though exchanges and they represented a crucial turning point in the course of world history.  I saw a marble tabletop made in 1568 from precious and semi-precious stones obtained from the vast trading networks commissioned by the Medici family, the reigning dynasty of Florence. I passed a jali, or window screen with a triangular pattern made from stone in India between 1550-1615; noticed the detail of a wooden mashrabiya, or door from Egypt in 1500-1800; I gazed at a page from a Polier album, a love poem from India in 1780, with admiration. I learned that the circulation of ideas sparked a new social type of gathering, where folks with similar interests would gather in ‘circles’ to talk and share ideas and thoughts.

As the exhibit came to an end I experienced a magical transition from inside to the outside dome, the experience is one I will leave for you to enjoy on your own when you make the journey there. Maybe you can picture me there, with eyes wide, heart full, mind stimulated, emerging from the past into the present moment. This is what I saw:

There, outside, the light came in, it moved and twinkled on the walls. The Arabian Sea was there too, with the sun shimmering and dancing on top of it. It was stunning, it was beautiful and I was there to soak it all in. In a moment, I lifted my hand as if to say hi to it all, this is real, I am here. What was once a dream was now true.

I took it all in. I sat. I gazed. I noticed. I laid back and noticed the ceiling. When the moment was complete, I stood and scanned for an exit. As I was walking, I noticed a quote on a window (the Louvre was covered with quotes- the intention to the space, place and message was one of provocation, yet simplicity). The quote was written and intended to be read from the inside. While I was able to read the text from the other side of the window, I was unable to record it in my journal. I headed inside to write this quote from Neil Armstrong down,

“Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of a man’s desire to understand.”

NO JOKE, I close my journal, look up and begin to walk and this is what I see:

Petroglyph, Saudi Arabia 2000 BCE

…it was as if the museum was speaking to me.

in joy and light, with gratitude and love,

Sara