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.
What a beautiful reflection of your trip!
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