My Friend, the Self-Reliant

Right now I am surrounded by opportunities for new beginnings, which has been encouraging me to move past my strong self-reliant nature. The forces at play are all very positive, but that doesn't make this interior shift of recognizing and transcending old worn out patterns of reacting any easier.

I first became aware of the negative consequences of being overly independent in the 1980s when I took Hakomi Therapy training with its founder Ron Kurtz. The system was inspired by the work of psychoanalyst Wilhelm Reich who had combined the work of his teacher (Sigmund Freud himself) to explore the connection between the psyche and our physical body.

My body type was what Reich called a compensated-oral, which Ron had thankfully renamed to the more positive-sounding "Self-Reliant." People with this body type/psychic orientation react to stress by concluding ‘I have to do it myself because there is no one here for me’.

Out of the sixty-one years I've been on this planet, probably at least fifty-three of them have been dominated by this need to control my surroundings. My dad still tells the story of how, as a two-year old, I would demand a wet washcloth when eating in my high chair, just in case any food spilled I would wipe it up immediately. Clearly, I learned at an early age that if you want to get something done you had to do it yourself.

On the up side, a self-reliant is a motivated individual who knows how to take control of a situation and get things done; but there is a down side to that particular personality trait - you do not know how to ask for help.

My experience and training as a meditator has taught me that this Self-Reliant voice only takes over the mind's operating system when I'm out of balance. It's my default defense mechanism, and when activated it creates a feeling of being all alone. As a result, I believe (incorrectly) that I have to take control because if no one is there for me, then who else is going to do it?

Unfortunately, this society valorizes this type of behavior, ignorant of the fact that it leaves people lost at sea without a sail, an engine, or even an oar in order to get them safely back to shore.

Gary as a lonely Self-Reliant, 1973

Fast forward to 2011. For the last six years I have been writing The Swami And The Married Woman, a memoir of how Radha and I discovered yoga, met, fell in love and lived happily ever after. As Radha will surely testify, part of this 'happily ever after' included learning to live with someone whose erroneous core belief causes him to think he has to do everything himself – not exactly a recipe for intimacy.

But, when this is erroneous core belief isn't activated, I can handle the stress without cutting off others from my process. I have come to notice that there are two self-reliants within me. One is unhappy and lonely; the other is confident, flexible and encourages others to be a part of his process.

Gary as a content Self-Reliant, 38 years later

I appreciate that the work Radha and I have undertaken in the past few months has given me the tools to deal with the pressures without falling back into self- limiting old patterns. Just thinking about all that has to be done to accept the amazing invitations we've been receiving can be a bit overwhelming – our memoir, the Enlightening Moments book and manual, seminars, my consulting work, my private clients, my hatha classes – it takes a lot of practice to respond to these demands without falling into my self-limiting belief.

Moreover, it takes a lot of patience from those around me. This is why I appreciate Radha, our assistant Kalyani, and all the loving, supportive members of our spiritual community (sangha). Learning to ask others for help is a rewarding process, and you know what? It feels good to acknowledge weaknesses, limitations and that lonely feeling tightening around my chest.

I am ready to move forward by making friends with my self-reliant nature.

Tis the Season... To Be Playful!

We live in a world filled with uncertainty, and in my work with clients I assist individuals in dealing with the frustration caused by the economic downturn, the unconsciousness surrounding global warming, and the glaring abuses occurring in the political arena. They are all compassionate, successful and conscious individuals, but they have one thing in common – in one way or another, they want a healthier relationship with the ever-changing world. In this time of tremendous upheaval, individuals who have not yet learned to flow with insecurity and change suffer needlessly. But, as the saying goes, or to give credit where credit is due, as Radha has told me many times: "All work and no play makes Gary a boring guy."

even cement mixers love the holidays in Vancouver

We're spending a month at our home in Vancouver before returning to Florida for a few months of teaching, completing our memoir that has the same name as this blog, writing our Enlightening Moments Book and workbook, and visiting friends. This is the first time we've experienced the Holiday spirit à la Canadian, and it has been wonderful. The Holiday tree in our family room meant we could pull out of storage in the basement the ornaments, lights and assorted Christmas decorations that have been sitting boxed up for three years now. What a joy to feel the ‘Light-ness’ of the season.

sitting around the fire, thankful for all life offers

(Did you notice that Buddha put on antlers for the Holidays!)

Last evening we prepared a vegetarian meal for a young couple and their two children, Anika and Luke. We have known the dad, Solan since he was a child living in the Himalayas with his parents, and it was with great joy that we got to spend an evening playing with the kids (in all of us). This happy family took part in our new tradition: picking a hat and one of the two cardboard glasses, which project either snowflakes or Christmas trees onto each light source. All of our guests feel a bit odd at first, but then people begin smiling at their own personal light show. Radha and I take pleasure in watching the transformation right before our eyes.

Solan and Shauna

and their son Luke

I am, of course, prepared with a camera to mark the occasion. Some of our friends begin to sway back and forth (intensifying the light show) while others just display some form of childlike behavior that immediately gets us all laughing. It's so much fun to play!

laughter and dinner with friends

Playtime is especially important given the difficult times we're living in. Not adult play time, and by that I mean some serious activity that requires us to focus like skiing, hiking, watching movies or anything a five year is not able to do. I'm talking about just letting down the barriers of self-consciousness that keep the child in us from leaping out manifesting some spontaneous outburst of play!

Gabrielle kissing reinbears – ooh la la!

For example, what would be your response to two nine-foot ginger bread cookies walking down the street?

Granville Island playtime

Or going into a hat store spending an hour entertaining the staff as we all pick out my Christmas present from Radha.

Jeffrey and Sandi help me choose a hat

We need to play, to let go of the demands of ‘adult-life’, to just be silly like a little child coming over for dinner wearing something a little different.

starring in 'The Tale of the Tiger'... Ronin!

I woke this morning to see out the window two joggers. One was wearing blinking red and green antlers; Her partner was running with two red Christmas stockings attached to his chest. I laughed and appreciated that two people were willing to let their ‘little-athlete’ go out for a run in the chilly air! I love to play, feeling the child inside of me come alive. Laughter somehow opens me to knowing that as challenging as living an adult life may be- there is always a lighter side to it. Why not hold hands with Frosty?

Radha and her frosty friend

Or give a snowman a hug?

love to hug a snowman

Life can be intense, but it is always short. A smile to a stranger, a cheerful hello while shopping, and the willingness to jump out of old patterns to be down right silly makes life so rewarding.

new and exciting renditions of traditional holiday music

Last Saturday we donned our holiday hats driving down to Hastings and Main Street to assist in serving eight hundred baked potatoes with butter, sour cream, chives and cheese to our dear homeless friends on the margins of society. Being playful in the face of such harsh inequality can be a challenge, but we spent an hour serving them, and they gratefully accepted our love, lifting our spirits and allowing us to once again experience the joy of the season.

Gary and Jeffrey on Spud Patrol

It is a time of reflection on the past year, and a joyful positive attitude regarding the coming year. So my wish is that I continue to jump on every invitation to play, to laugh, to cry, to offer love, to share and to look into your eyes and recognize the playful being within. Radha and I are thankful for all the gifts. We wish your all a time to play with each other during the coming year ahead. It is a time to recognize how cooperation and compassion strikes a deep chord within. We need each other, and in spite of our the stressful challenges on the path, we look everyone in the eyes with playful joy and love recognizing the little child is ready, willing and able to accept all that Santa offers.

Radha's great-grand niece Josephine with Santa

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

Tale of the Tiger

We met the granddaughter of the renowned Lady of the Lakes two days ago while visiting the Ranthambhore National Park southeast of Jaipur:

Ranthambhore is home to about 50 tigers.

The grandmother was very famous and even has her own Facebook page; and now her granddaughter, the present Lady of the Lakes, rules a large section of the park. Her queendom is absolute, and no other female dare come into her domain. Sadly, however, the Bengal tiger is approaching extinction, and parks like this one make it possible for visitors' proceeds to add to the fund that is trying to protect the tigers.

Tigers have only one predator - humans.

Male tigers have to wait until they hear the female's powerful roar signaling that it's okay to enter their territory. A separate roar serves as a mating invitation, and vying for this privilege caused two male tigers to fight to the death in Ranthambhore just last year.

These giant cats are elusive by nature, and our guide told us that most groups only see them for brief glimpses. There have been several documentaries depicting her exploits, and needless to say we felt privileged to share time with her and take these pictures.

When we first came upon her, our driver/tracker had already shut down our canter (an open air truck that carries twenty people). He signaled everyone to be silent and then listened intently.

The surrounding area had suddenly become exceptionally quiet except for the shrill cries of some birds. Then came another sound, one I didn't recognize, which the driver told us was the warning sound of the local spotted deer. They knew that a tiger was on the prowl.

The cool early morning air seemed to make everything sharper, and we saw that she was coming our way. The whole group was frozen with surprise. Right in front of us was the Queen of the Lakes. These images show what happened next:

She walked to a high spot not far from our vehicle and sat down.

Then let out a huge yawn.

Before she settled into licking her paws and cleaning her face.

And took a look around.

Her gaze settled on us, and the animal stared eerily into our eyes.
We were only 30 feet away.

After about ten minutes the Lady of the Lake suddenly got up and began walking towards a grassy area in front of her. A herd of spotted dear starting making alarm sounds as they fled, and the tigress headed straight for the high grass. Our driver told us there was a baby deer hiding there – he had heard it crying for its mother.

The tiger found the deer in a matter of minutes, and after playing with it for an interminable ten minutes, she walked directly in front of our canter with a four-day-old fawn, still alive in her mouth.

Only twice per year does she allow guests to be present at her meals.

The Lady of the Lakes seemed almost proud of the kill as she walked towards the water, disappearing into the tall grass as a seven-year old girl in the canter behind us began crying. Through her sobs I heard the word ‘Bambi’.

I have counseled a number of people through the dying process, and sat with them as they drew their last breaths, but I have never experienced anything like this before. To be in the middle of such a primal event was breathtaking, and this was easily one of the most powerful experiences of my life. Most of us are far-removed from these truths, and as a whole our society has sanitized death by turning it into nothing more than a documentary on the Discovery Channel or a photograph in National Geographic. This, however, was stark reality:

We chanted prayers for the young deer and celebrated the awesome power of Mother Nature in the form of Kali Tiger. Life is ever entwined with death, and while I am still processing this experience, I know that it serves as a poignant, beautiful and terrifying reminder of the impermanence of life on the physical plane.