Reflections After a Month In India

I'm currently en route to Florida, where I will spend three weeks with dear friends, teaching, coaching and spending time with a remarkable spiritual community. We've shared yoga and meditation for over twenty years together, and the time will also give me an opportunity to soak up some sunshine, walk the beach, and recover from a remarkable one-month trip to Mother India.

Although this was my eighteenth time to the birthplace of the Vedas, I was most definitely deeply affected by the trip. Maybe it’s because I'm sixty years old, or because I had been away for ten years, or just possibly I was ready for what Bharata had in store for me.

Over the years Yoga has formed the foundation of my personal and professional life. These ancient teachings have guided me in living harmoniously with my Self, others, and Mother Nature. In particular, they have taught me that it is by giving you receive.

The trip began in Mumbai:

the Taj Hotel in Mumbai

Refusing to let the jet lag slow us down, Radha and I immediately set about exploring Kerala together:

the fishing village near our hotel

The second week began with the arrival of Kalyani and Alannah, and the four of us visited the Valley of the Gods in the Himalayas. It was here that we processed and completed a big chapter of our life.

Dikpal, Gary, and Radha

On the last half of our journey, we were joined by fifteen more friends and students on a Yatra (Sanskrit for 'spiritual pilgrimage') that combined spiritual practices with visiting remarkable places in Northern India.

the group makes a pit stop on the way to Jaipur

The entire trip went smoothly, and we were all thankful for the opportunity to share the sights, sounds, tastes and experiences that India offers. I also noticed something subtler, a shift inside of me. As I reviewed the photos people in the group had taken of me, I had an interesting reaction to seeing how my body had gotten older.

Kalyani, Gary and Radha

Now, I don't mind growing older. There is a sense of ease that I am experiencing as I age, and forty years of yoga have kept me healthy. Most times I feel as if I have an endless supply of energy, but I was nonetheless surprised to notice that I really do have a sixty-year old body. It goes deeper than the obvious fact that my hair is turning a stylish grey as it migrates south from the top of my head to my nose and ears. It's more than the fact I look at my hands and it reminds me of my grandfather, or that the elasticity in my skin has changed. I smile each time I look in the mirror and see that my face is beginning to resemble my Dad’s.

my Dad's 86th birthday party

Actually, looking like my dad is oddly comforting. Yet, being in India created a shift in my perspective. I need to prioritize. Life is short, and you never know what is going to happen next.

I returned with a fuller appreciation for my Radha, and reviewing photographs of my dear wife awakened a tremendous gratitude for all the years we have spent together. We first traveled together to India in 1978:

Radha in Rishikesh, 1978

It was her first trip there, my second, and on this pilgrimage we visited some of the very same places from which we just returned. I was taken by how we are gracefully growing older together. I think I first noticed it during one of those tortuous bus rides to Jaipur, as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders in a futile attempt to cushion her from the punishing jolts as the bus lumbered across the bumpy road.

the shocks hadn't been replaced since the colonial era

I have noticed that my relationship to mortality is front and center. This could have easily been influenced by our time with the Bengal tiger. I am still processing the shock of watching it hunt and kill a deer right in front of me. The awe and power of that experience brought to mind the fragility, speed and temporary nature of life.

the Lady of the Lakes

It seems like only yesterday that I was a twenty-six year old Swami, but photos of this trip reveal to me things have certainly changed. Thank you, Lady of the Lakes, for that reminder.

Gary (Swami Sudhananda) leading a group of in 1975

Lastly, as I was leading the group in chanting and meditation on the banks of the Ganges, just two days before we headed back home, there was an outpouring of emotion. I had felt it earlier in the day as we were all meditating at the Maha Samadhi Shrine of Swami Sivananda who was my Guru’s teacher.

the group at Sivananda ashram

At that time a huge wave of thankfulness swept over me. With tears in my eyes, I stood before the puja ceremony and silently thanked Swami Sivananda for so expertly teaching my Guruji Swami Satchidananda in the practices and philosophy of Raja Yoga – practices and knowledge that my Guruji subsequently taught me.

Gary, Radha and Swami Satchidananda

However, when I took five cold plunges into the glacial waters of the Ganges, a sudden realization overcame me: I am a western Yogi who has been given the opportunity to uniquely share the teachings of Yoga as I am living and experiencing them. There are no words for the gratitude I feel for all that I have been given.

Radha and Gary, 1978

Ironically, it was only in the final hours of the trip that I hit a snag. I was assisting our group into the Delhi airport, and somewhere along the way I dropped my wallet. I left India the same way I had during the very first trip when I was a renunciate.

So, here I sit touched by my experience of India, knowing something has shifted inside of me. I do not need to know what exactly that is, and I trust that staying in this state of openness will allow me to remain available to the invitations that inevitably arrive.

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti.

Where Did the Ganges Go?

We arrived at our hotel in Haridwar after a one-hour flight from Delhi to Dehradun, and walking from the plane I relished being back in the rarified air of the Himalayas. During the hour-long ride from the airport I noticed both the amazing changes that have taken place since my first trip in 1975, as well as the excitement of knowing that I would soon be bathing in the Ganges.

The Mother Ganges is one of the three holy rivers of India, which finds its source high in the Himalayas. Pilgrims travel not only from throughout India, but also from around the globe for the opportunity to wash away their sins in Haridwar (its name means 'the gate of Lord Vishnu').

pilgrims in the water of the Mother Ganga

Fifteen miles (and an hour drive) up river from Haridwar is Rishikesh:

'Home of the Rishis'

Rishikesh became a household name in 1968 when the Beatles visited the ashram of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. This was the place where the Beatles composed the music and lyrics to The White Album, and John lived in this cottage:

Look closely, does the number of the cottage ring a bell?

Both cities are known for their pursuit of spiritual wisdom, offering only vegetarian cuisine and serving no alcohol. The fish grow as large as dolphins and come up to eat right out of your hand.

In Rishikesh it's against the law to kill anything.
They even have a natural, non-lethal cockroach spray!

My favorite story isn't about the Beatles, though, but rather the legend of how this sacred river came to be. Mother Ganga was concerned that if she came directly down from heaven, it would harm her children on the Earth below. Lord Shiva gave the perfect solution, allowing the water to fall onto the top of his head and then flow from the Himalayas into the plains of eastern India. Depictions of Lord Shiva therefore often show the Ganga flowing from his head:

Lord Shiva

Arriving at our hotel, I was shocked to discover that the Ganges was a mere trickle compared to how I remembered it:

in the distance the Ganga trickles along

'Where did the Ganges go?’ I wondered.

the photo behind Sandy, Erica, and Fern
shows the Ganges flowing at its best

It turns out that it was diverted so they could clean the riverbed in preparation for the Festival of Diwali, five days of celebration and gift giving observed by Hindus, Sikhs, and Jainists alike. It is often called the 'festival of lights, and ‘Happy Diwali’ was heard throughout our travels the last few days of the tour.

workers cleaning the riverbed in preparation for Diwali

Sadly, the sight of the dry riverbed also reminded us that the glaciers high in the Himalayas are rapidly decreasing because of global warming. Some estimate that during our lifetime the Ganges will be dry, and as we watched the people cleaning out the riverbed, I couldn't help but wonder what the future holds for the tens of millions of people dependent on Mother Ganga.

Every evening thousands of people come out to chant
and thank Mother Ganges for being in their life. It is AWESOME!

In Haridwar we took a cable car up to the Chandi Devi Temple, which is dedicated to the goddess Mansa Mata and sits atop a mountain overlooking the Ganges. The King of Kashmir, Suchat Singh, established the temple in 1929 and worshipers believe that the temple's main statue (murti) dates back to the 8th Century and was placed there by a great saint of India named Adi Shankracharya.

cable car to Chandi Devi Temple

That night the group enjoyed a rooftop satsang:

Gary with Michael and Liz
(It's cool at night!)

By far though, the entire group was most taken by Rishikesh, where for thousands of years yogis have gathered to practice meditation, prayer and chanting. It's also home to the Sivananda Ashram, where my Guruji Swami Satchidanada studied with Swami Sivananda:

the group at the Sivananda Ashram

And a close-up of the pillar behind us:

This was our theme song during my years with
Swami Satchidananda at the Integral Yoga Institute.

There are swamis, naga babas, yogis, Sikhs and every combination of spiritual seeker here, each of them with one goal in mind – to experience liberation (moksha). Our group chanted on a beach, meditated, and then dipped our mala beads into the river. Then Kalyani and I took five quick dips in the freezing cold glacial water.

Gary and Kalyani, moments before dunking themselves

The group spent two days soaking up the holy vibrations in this home of the Rishis (divinely-inspired poets and sages), and we left knowing that we will always carry the vibration of this special place in our hearts. Upon returning to Haridwar in the evening, we were all excited to hear Mother Ganga once again shouting to us. The riverbed had been cleaned and the mighty water that bathes, nourishes and purifies millions of Indians was flowing once more.

the Mother Ganga returned to her glory