Holy moly, where does the time go?

The Practical

Tomorrow is my last day in Mysore. This is slightly unbelievable to me. The place is slowly emptying out as yoga season draws to a close, and my extracurricular activities are winding down. Last week was Jayashree-less, as she went to do a workshop in Goa. Yesterday was my last dance class and last Kirtan. Martina left last week, and a few more people disappear every day. Tomorrow morning is my last practice at the shala. The ticking of the clock is deafening.

I fly to Mumbai on Wednesday morning for a vipassana course at Dhamma Giri, then I'll be home on April 11.

I had breakfast with Anita this morning and she asked if I was happy or sad about leaving. I gave the same answer I gave about leaving to come here: "both". I still can't believe it is possible to feel two such conflicting emotions so fully about the same situation. I will be overjoyed to be home and reunited with what I have waiting for me there, but I feel so connected to this place in so many ways that it is hard to imagine leaving it behind. Marika and I were on the bus the other day, (crouching on the wheel well between two seats, crammed in amongst a throng of women in saris) and she mused wistfully, as only a Swedish stage actress could: "how is it possible to love a country so much? It's just so ALIVE".

I'm trying to run around in my last hours taking all the pictures and doing all the shopping I didn't get to over the past few months because I had PLENTY of time for all that and much more important things to do...

On the very short list entitled "things I will not be sad to leave behind" are the mosquitoes and the heat, both of which are getting pretty oppressive. On the much longer list of losses to mourn are the food, the animals in the streets, the vibrant, pulsating energy that surrounds you at all times, the intensity of the practice, the opportunities for tapping into rich lineages of ancient wisdom that surround you everywhere you look, and the scores of incredible people that I have just met but feel profoundly connected to.

On the other hand, I'm going home! To Pete! To a whole different set of comforts and experiences and opportunities! To other scores of incredible people! "There is too much good in life and why can't it all be in one place": this is not a terrible problem to have.

The Practice

Working, playing, breathing, sweating, observing, practicing, practicing, practicing. Getting glimpses of this beautiful state, here described by Muriel Barbery in The Elegance of the Hedgehog:

"[his] movements are freed from the shackles of his will, and he goes into a light trance which gives his gestures the perfection of conscious, automatic motion, without thought or calculation ... [he] delights in the forgetfulness that movement brings, where the pleasure of doing is marvelously foreign to the striving of the will. This is eminently true of many happy moments in life. Freed from the demands of decision and intention, adrift on some inner sea, we observe our various movements as if they belonged to someone else, and yet we admire their involuntary excellence."

Ever-so-brief glimpses, mind you. And certainly not in my newest postures. Last week I was assigned ustrasana and laghu vajrasana. Then Sharath told me on Thursday that I would be doing kapotasana today, but after watching my attempt at coming out of laghu vajrasana he decided I wasn't ready. I could have told him that! (Interesting side note: he communicated this by yelling across the packed room: "you're not doing it correctly!" Once upon a time this would have mortified me to the point of paralysis, but I was pleasantly surprised to discover now that I didn't really mind. I was quite amused, actually. Three cheers for the slow but steady shedding of past conditioning!)

The Path

I got an email from my mother early in my trip here delighting that I really seemed to have found my "spiritual home". Indeed. I have found symbols that speak to me very powerfully, connected to teachers who astound and inspire me, and engaged in practices that give me an experiential understanding of what was formerly just words. The world makes more sense to me every day, from the sacred to the mundane. I have actually caught myself laughing out loud a few times from the sheer joy of it all. Not a bad place to be. Thank you, Mother India.