What Day Is It Today, Anyway?

Rishikesh is really having it's way with me. Last days have been a wave. And before that was another wave. But usually I can't see the wave until it has already washed over me.

This morning in swamiji's meditation, as soon as he said "join your hands," I was in tears. Seems to be coming more often lately, the tears. I am reminded of my birthday last year in Montreal, when I cried for three consecutive days. But that time I had a very specific reason for my sadness.

The sadness that washes over me now is not associated with any particular thing, as far as I am aware. And it's not a problem, per se, just intense.

The first wave was characterized by a complete lack of energy. Several times I laid down on the bed for just a moment, only to end up dead to the world for hours. I even passed out on the couch at a friend's house during a visit, drooling all over myself and waking up with deep lines on my face and chest.

I also noticed that while I normally bear the Indian masses quite well, I suddenly wanted to strangle them all, especially the men. Whether they were staring at me, asking for a photo (No), bumping into me or running me over with their cart/bicycle/motorcycle, I felt an uncharacteristic aggression brewing inside. For the health and safety of all, I hid myself in my room and during two days I did not emerge. I now suspect the increasing heat was a contributing factor.

But now a new wave is here - a wave of sadness - and while my energy levels have recovered somewhat, I am still spending most of my time in my room, emerging only once or twice in each day.

Some benefits of my recent waves include: more writing! I am writing letters, writing in my journal, writing for you right now, writing, writing, writing. Also I am not vocalizing much; It's both strange and strangely pleasing to not hear myself talk. And, my room is cleaner and cleaner every day. Almost every part of it has finally gotten a thorough scrubbing, with the exception of the kitchen floor.

Which brings me to my current dilemma, also known as Buddha. For weeks now I have debated about Buddha. He lives in my kitchen and is the reason the floor has not yet been properly cleaned. For the most part I was accepting him as part of my little ecosystem here, that is, until someone explained to me that mice pee everywhere and that this is frequently how diseases are spread. This new fear was planted in my mind several weeks ago and now I am quite sure I want Buddha to move out. I have threatened to take him to the Beatles Ashram, to befriend a cat, to take away his little box house...but he is not a stupid mouse. He knows I am powerless to do anything. Except clean up mouse poops.

Sometimes, like now, I just want someone to come and "fix it," but I suspect this battle was over before it began. Buddha is here to stay and I will just have to start producing some new antibodies. But I am not happy about it at all.

Something I am extremely happy about is that on this, my third visit to India, I have finally and completely eradicated toilet paper from my life. The struggle has been a progressive one. Initially, I had just to absorb the idea (What? Poop without toilet paper?!?), then I had to learn the basic mechanics (thanks to a kind woman from New Zealand), and then I had to practice. For years I went back and forth, sometimes using, sometimes not...but generally if I had access to it, I was using it.

But this year when I arrived in Delhi, the transition was complete. I have not used nor had the desire to use even one single square of toilet paper since then! This, my fellow consumers, is true freedom. Now that I have accustomed myself to water and have some skill in employing its use, I understand why it is much cleaner than paper. Other necessities that are no longer necessities: hair conditioner, gel, deodorant, ibuprofen, and feminine products (ladies, please do everyone a favor and google "moon cup").

Watching the Hills Burn

As I sit on my balcony and watch the hills on the other side of the river burn for the third consecutive day, I'm thinking about what it means to have a "problem."

That is, my struggles are completely internal. And I understand that most of my afflictions are of a classic western variety, that is, common to most western peoples. For example, I often feel that I am not "accomplishing" enough. I also struggle at times with guilt, or with not being focused or grounded. And of course, I am deeply conflicted between west and east, having been raised and programmed in one world and having found my home in the other...each of them simultaneously alien and familiar.

Left unchecked, internal struggles can lead to a pointless and tragic self-inflicted demise. Sad indeed.

On the bright side, it can (and should be) considered a great priviledge to suffer from internal struggles. I often wonder what the internal struggles might be for, as an example, any one of the crippled beggars who live in the streets. Surely they are not worried about being good enough?

From my glass tower, I am unable to fathom many things. Just today I explained to one Indian girlfriend that, for women in the United States, it is not necessary to ask permission from their husbands. I went on to say that in American culture, it is not uncommon for the men to ask permission from their wives. She looked at me with wide, uncomprehending eyes as we both absorbed the meaning of my words.

A young, married Indian woman officially belongs to and is ruled by her new husband and his family. She must ask permission from them for anything and everything she may want to do. The lucky ones marry into kind or generous families, but the unlucky ones...they suffer a private hell that makes my years in the hole seem like Disneyland.

There are innumerable things here in India...things I see with my own eyes everyday and yet still shudder to imagine. Living here makes it impossible to take anything for granted.

Hari Om,
LMA

"Passion, anger and greed - these constitute the triple gate to hell leading to the damnation of the soul. Therefore, one should shake off all these three."
- Bhagavad Gita 16/21