I went to see my yoga teacher’s master/teacher this weekend. I could not go to the practice that he held last night because of work, but I am glad I got to hear him talk and to see him. I am kind of embarrassed to admit it, but I really wanted to just see what he was like in relation to how I look at his student who is trying so hard everyday to teach me new things. I was a little nervous. But I went.
And it was totally cool.
I like the energy that people who are completely in possession of who they are can project. It is a unique thing to behold, and I know very few people who are really that way. I know plenty who think they are, but few who really are, and you can tell the difference immediately. I live in a place filled to the brim with individuals who claim to be uber-enlightened. You know, they have all the right music, incense, books – yeah, they bought the t-shirt. Funny enough, they tend to be some of the most judgmental and narrow minded people I have encountered. Like judgmental AND patronizing all at the same time. It is an UNjoy to behold. The guruji I saw on Sunday had it going on for real. He was totally different than the people I usually see professing their enlightenment. He was just really happy, and that is sort of what I hope enlightenment is really all about. And then he mentioned Osho, which is also cool because I have been digging Osho ever since I realized he could be all deep AND talk about the “F-word.”
Enlightenment is the understanding that this is all, that this is perfect, that this is it. Enlightenment is not an achievement, it is an understanding that there is nothing to achieve, nowhere to go.
Put that on your list of “Things that make you go, ‘Hmmmmmmm….'”
The thing is, I am seriously considering going to India. Yes, India. Yes, to do yoga. No I am not totally crazy. I don’t think. And since I began to consider this, traveling so far to study with someone, it seemed prudent to meet the “man behind the curtain” first. Frankly, the fact that this guy is my teacher’s guru would really have been enough, but still, I have always been the type of person who likes to get to know the people in whose hands I purposefully put myself. Okay, actually that is not entirely true, but in this case my curiosity and my interest led me to being mildly pragmatic.
And why would I consider something like this? Something that I know will be really hard, probably pretty uncomfortable, and not even mildly abundant in the types of things I typically choose to indulge in? I am not sure I have an answer to that question. Am I just wanting to be Elizabeth Gilbert version 2.0? Well, dividing a year into Italy, India and Bali doesn’t sound half bad, does it? But… Liz Gilbert I am not. I love Italy – and everything I encountered in it. I found Bali delightful – enough so that I am returning in two months. But India… now there is the enigma. I am not in search of some deeper meaning, or conversely some higher truth. [At this my amigo Fun Bobby expressed great relief, following his thinly veiled concern, when I casually mentioned I was considering checking out an ashram.] I’ve no divorce to get over, nor any sense of absence to examine.
India comes at me for different reasons to numerous to expound or expiate here, though you can be sure one of them is a very bendy individual who calls Guledgudda home.
In some ways I imagine that if I am afforded the opportunity to do this it will end up being one of those things that you can consider in the future-past-tense, like “It will be a kick ass thing to have done.” In some ways I think it will be heartbreaking and in others inspiring. Will I take photos? Of course. Will I do ten hours of yoga a day? I hope. Will I write about it? I am not sure. I have a friend who, after every book we read, says: “I could’ve written that,” as an assessment of a book’s lack of significance. She said it of Gilbert’s book first. “I could’ve told that story, what is the big deal?” Well, maybe everything doesn’t need to be a big deal to everyone. And from the small deals sometimes the coolest things emerge.
There is a story there. It is about a boy who was chosen by his master to do important things and appreciates that there is always running water in Hong Kong. Can anybody write it? I don’t think just anyone could. But there may be someone who should.
I honor the Spirit in you which is also in me.