Dharamsala......Shhhhhhhhh

Dharamasala is spectacular. Thy sky is closer than I've ever felt it. The air and the snow capped mountains create a weather system all their own here. In the afternoons, a thunderous show of horizontal lightning and spring hail pushes everyone into the tea houses and bookstores to wait out what the gods have in store. Just around the corner from His Holiness the Dalai Lama's house and temple, these streets are teeming with gentle faced monks in maroon and packed full of any and every Tibetan artifact you can imagine. From Yak butter tea, to wool sweaters, it's all here to keep the travelers and locals warm and comfortable. I can say this is the first place in India that I absolutely LOVE, instantly.
Yesterday I hiked 9 miles to the stunning snow line ridge where the vantage point to the white covered Himalayas was breathtaking. Today, I pretty much spent sleeping the fatigue and altitude out of my muscles. Photos to come shortly.
Tomorrow I will be entering a 10 day silent meditation retreat in an Introduction to Tibetan Buddhism course. The center is surrounded by pine forrest, and sits a top a hill that over-looks the terraced villages that fill this magical land. With as much of an open heart and empty mind as possible I will lend myself to what gifts that silence can bring.
Be back in 10 days!

City of Gold

Another hypnotically rocking 7 hour train took me from Haridwar in the lap of the Himalayas west to the Golden Temple city of Amritsar. Arriving around midnight, I went straight to the Golden Temple to see that yes, in fact this is a place of intense worship around the clock. The Temple is only about 500 years old, but the ancient scripts that are read by Sikh masters inside small rooms within the temple 24/7 are... beyond time. After getting situated in yet one more rather sketchy hotel room (this one had a very mysterious pipe entering the room, from???), I fell asleep to the still rocking of the train and could hear the chanting from the temple in between the ceaseless buzz of rickshaws, horns, and my strange hotel plumbing.
The next day a rickshaw driver found me and before I knew it he and I set off for a city tour of things I must see. Like most rickshaw riders the guy was only wearing slippers and could ride a dilapidated bike like nobodies business. Adding to the now very long list of almost terrifying road experiences, the day was filled with white knuckled, eyes closed moments of knowing that soon this will be over. Many temples, many blessings, and a ton of relief to end the day in one piece.
The Sikh tradition is one of equality and complete welcoming of all faiths, races, and even castes.
Besides chanting around the clock, they are also feeding and housing all visitors around the clock. More curious than hungry I went to explore the communal dining hall. On the way to the dining hall walking through hundreds of Sikhs sitting on the ground (both men and women) chopping vegetables, making chapatti, and washing countless plates. Just walking into the hall my eyes teared up from the thousands on onions being peeled. The food was tasty no doubt, but my digestive system is pretty much on strike from one more plate of masala vegetables and dahl, so I ate up the tasty dessert (mushy rice prasad) and kept passing my chapatti's to the very hungry local next to me.
Before entering the temple there are foot baths that you wade through, and for many you also ingest this water as I saw quite a few peeps swoop down and ceremoniously scoop up a handful of the sacred foot bath water. Mmmm, how refreshing!
Hanging out here at this temple for several hours one night to witness the constant worship, bathing in the waters, kneeling to prayer, I wondered how much we create what is sacred. 500 years ago, this place was absent of such holiness, and then from one rich man's vision, poof, something sacred is built. It was indeed something to behold, and it's fascinating to watch how much sanctity people can immerse themselves in without hesitation. The ritual bathe in the fish tank smelling water is supposed to rid you of Oh so much Karma. I dipped my fingertips in.

It's official

Now that I'm going on my 7th week here in "the Motherland" I've taken a little tally of how it's made an impression on me. There are some key signs that India has officially seeped through my pours and changed a few internal perspectives.

1. I have had my picture taken (mostly with cell phones) with more Indian families than I have fingers and toes.

2. The other day I caught myself being an "Indian line stander", leaving no more than 5 inches between myself and the person in front of me. It's the only way you get anywhere!

3. I don't really feel all that different than everybody else and get surprised when I find people staring at me.

4. I wouldn't dare think of leaving my room/ Ashram without my roll of toilet paper (they don't use any here).

5. I've come to expect that nothing is ever as you expect it to be.

6. I've actually become accustomed to getting a really good night's sleep on extremely hard surfaces that by most standards around here are called beds.

7. I more or less know when to dodge, hold on, plug my ears, assume disinterest, haggle, avoid inhaling (smog), all while keeping a keen eye not to step in that next pile of cow dung.

8. The yoga that happens on my mat is a pure luxury. The real yoga practice is the rest of the experience.

Art day at the Orphange

I spent most of yesterday at a beautiful local orphanage and school house, playing musical bodies with the kids, getting my face painted and hair done like a an Indian dancer by the girls, and eating delicious organic food grown in their garden. This sanctuary was created 15 years ago by an American woman who had no children of her own or any idea of how to raise them. She put it simply when she said that she just leads by example, and allows the rest to happen naturally. There are about 70 children in "the family" who come from all over India and Nepal. They are thriving, giggly, and really really eager to do the best they can. A young fellow took the photo of me sitting in the chair after I got my face painted. Here rather than wanting to take them all home with me, I wanted to move in! There are ample opportunities to live and volunteer here for months at a time.
Hard to beat growing your own organic food and hanging with super precious kids day in and day out. The food in Rishikesh has been sacredly spectacular. Within this whole area both meat and alcohol are prohibited, and their is no shortage of any cuisine you could imagine. One of the most popular menu items is pizza believe it or not. I've been sticking to my south Indian favorite of Masala Dosa, a long delicious crispy rice crepe filled with spicy potatoes served with yummy dipping sauces. I can't deny that I'm dreaming of bowls of kale and quinoa though.
Tomorrow I'm heading even more north to Dharmasala for most of my remaining time here in India. I'll be breaking the journey up by spending a night in Amritsar where I plan to see the Golden Temple at dawn. Catch up soon!

Footsteps to the Ganga

Even though I've been on this journey for 6 weeks now, I still keep pinching myself. Sometimes it really is a bit much to take in. Grace has consistently brought "bodyguards" to take me along this adventure with both safety and great company. As of late this position has fallen to both Cameron from Down Under, and Dave from London. Our other lovely friend Kelly from NYC just left the Quartet, so now myself and the lads have been making the most of our last few days in Rishikesh.
Two days ago Our trio awoke hours before dawn to take a ride up to the tippy top of a dark mountain temple. We arrived in time to watch the sunrise over the vast horizon of jagged Himalayan silhouettes, and witness the morning temple Puja (prayer offering) to Kali, the Goddess of destruction and creation- quite a job. The morning was cold and several rounds of chai was just what we needed to get a jump start on the 8 mile hike down the hill. We a had a guide to lead the way, who spoke a total of 9 words to me, which were all the different names of the Goddess Kali (she's big around here). He made the whole journey without any water, or snacks, despite my attempts to force some down his throat. Gosh, now that I think about it he didn't even stop to pee, but then I guess that evens out with his liquid intake.
The day was amazingly clear, and the sense of the Himayalas was spectacular. It was the most quiet 4 hours spent yet in India. Just the birds, monkeys, and footsteps.

The world is better

In the middle of the Yoga Festival an event called Yoga AID took place. This event is a fundraiser which is sweeping across the globe to get Yogi's (and all those in their lives) more involved in making a real difference. The 400 attendees and all the teachers joined together beside the Ganga to do 108 Sun Salutations. Each salutation being an intentional prayer to all those who are less fortunate than ourselves. With all of your generous donations I raised $500 that is going to provide school supplies and much more to impoverished children in India. From my most humble and grateful heart I thank you all for making this place we call the planet a little bit better. It was an honor and a blast to do Yoga and think of how it actually is making a difference, thanks to you!

My new friends and I have mostly been indulging in the no hurry, shanti, shanti lifestyle of Rishikesh. Dressing in Sari's, dunking in the Ganga, hanging in the abundance of cafe's that sit on the cliffs overlooking the great River, shopping in oodles of trinket shops, and hiking around to waterfalls. Many foreigners live here several months out of the year, and clearly have the local thing down to an art. I'm not sure it's for me but it's a pretty good lifestyle. I must say though that wearing a Sari really did make me think about the contents of closet. I live in northern Cali, I can pull it off wearing it there right?

Yoga Universe

Besides seeing the Himalayas I came to this spectacular northern region for my truest passion,
Yoga! I just finished the International Yoga Festival in an amazing town right on the Ganga River called Lakshman Jhula. The 8 day Ashram marathon didn't afford much time to do anything (like blog updating) except meditate, yoga, eat, sleep, meditate, yoga, chai, you get the point. The Ashrams in this country are all in on it together to rob their visitors of sleep by sticking to the 4am load speaker chanting. I've just succumbed to the reality that all of this noise is really just as essential to the Indian lifestyle as chapati's and dhal. You can't have one without the other.

The Ganga River is an experience unto herself. She is endless, and serves everyone who flock to her banks. She is a source of so much life, both spiritual and physical. She is the divine bath tub, washing machine, highway, living temple, and water source to northern India. I have witnessed now first hand how she takes all unnecessary things away. Each morning has been spent beside her being lead through physical and emotional feats by one the worlds most gifted Kundalini teachers. Whao, I thought that going for a 4o mile bike ride pushed my limits, but this pushed things to the point of needing to access some strength that I had no idea I had.
By the second day my body was so sore I snagged the first Ayurevedic massage I could which litterally wrung out all the tenderness. Not bad for 10 bucks. I'm still vibrating from the morning we literally shook our entire bodies for 30 min.
After a two hour Kundalini class the rest of each day was filled with another 4 Yoga classes! Yes, it was heavenly and so very needed to fill me with inspiration of teaching again. This was another amazing hub for meeting new friends from all over the wide globe. Since the festival ended I've been logging 10 hours of sleep a night, and yes got another decompression massage.

Chai, Ganga, Hooka

So much to say!!!! I flew here to the the north of India two weeks. Experienced just a few not too traumatizing hours in Dehli, hopped on a train and 6 hours later landed in Haridwar. Known as "the lap of the Himalayas" this region is steeped in the age old yogic traditions that I've been looking for. Two days spent in Haridwar watching the locals bathing in the river ghats, eating fantastic meals and spending yet a bit more time in some very funky "hotels". I made a "friend for a day" with Jose from Spain and we explored the sights together. While strolling down a street we were coaxed into this teenee chai hut, which was a 5 by 6ft. shack which was also a tailors shop, and clearly the place where all the local men escape their worries and hang out with the HUGE hooka pipe.
The pipe was abuot the size of the shack. Sipping on the best chai I've had yet, we hung with these fellows, passed the chillum, spoke only with the language of laughter, eyes, and smiles. In this moment I started to feel really Indian. Yesterday my friend actually caught me bobbing my head, it just happened!