Nothing On My Mind

July is the off-season for westerners here in steamy Rishikesh. It must be 94 degrees and 94 percent humidity as I sit here now, dripping sweat into my computer keyboard. That means only the die-hards remain. The long-termers. And as I've been spending more time with this strange lot, I've noticed one curious commonality: they're all doing nothing.

Not only do they reject the "work-and-consume hamster wheel" of the west, they also reject the goofballs on the spiritual circuit. Whether from Australia, Europe or the Americas, these westerners are united in that they don't want a guru, aren't interested in karma yoga and couldn't care less about attaining enlightenment.

Is it easy to do nothing? Would you be able to do nothing if you had the opportunity? Have you ever tried?

Most tourists who come here are on some kind of schedule or have some planned purpose to fulfill. Whether it's yoga or reiki classes or an ayurvedic cooking course, everyone seems intent on doing something. Except those who have been here for years. They aren't doing anything, and something in my gut tells me this is a real accomplishment.

When people ask me what I am doing here (or anywhere for that matter), I am usually at a loss to respond. Is it accurate to say "nothing" when I am so busy all the time?

Most days I have a bath in the Ganga, wash clothes, go shopping at the vegetable market and cook something. Often, when I take Ganga bath, I will hang around on the beach for an hour or two, chatting with the random people that pass by, shooing the cows away, or just standing in the water.

Is this nothing?

Every day I eat lunch at 2pm. Every night I sleep at 10. Hopefully, I'll start meditating again soon (I fell off that wagon back in May when bronchitis struck). In recent weeks I've finally started reading again, after a hiatus that lasted more than two full years (currently it's The Lives of Saints, by Swami Sivananda).

Yesterday I went to see Swamiji. We talked for hours, about why the naked baba needs to use an umbrella, about prarabdha karma (the karma we inherit from our past lives) and about why it's not a contradiction that even "enlightened" people sometimes get angry, among other things.

Today I washed some clothes and then walked to Laxman Jhulla (3 km?) to buy brown bread. Later I spent two hours trying - rather unsuccessfully - to cut my own hair. I cooked pasta for dinner and now it's seven o' clock and I'm wondering about...nothing.

My mama and I had an exchange on the phone last night that clarified a simple point I would like to share;

We were talking about the westerners who live here - for five years, seven, ten - and what makes them different from the people back home. I explained that there is no difference, actually. The people who live here are not more spiritually evolved or enlightened. They are completely normal in the sense that they have dysfunctional families, financial concerns and relationship and/or personality issues just like everyone. After all, people are the same everywhere.

What is different is that we have all come to a similar conclusion about life in the west. That is, we reject the work-and-consume hamster wheel that keeps us permanently distracted from what's really important. To run continuously on this wheel is like being spiritually disabled, and in some way or another we all sense it.

I guess that's why we prefer to come here and "do nothing." Doing nothing here turns out to be a lot more than doing everything back home.


"Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Lola."

. . . . .


A Note About Astrology and Death

First, I want to disclose my near-complete ignorance on the subject of astrology. All I have are impressions.

My first impression is that astrology has been around for a long, long time, and that all of the most ancient civilizations practiced some form of astrological science. My intuition tells me that if a tradition has existed for thousands of years, amongst highly developed civilizations no less (Mayan, Chinese, Indian...), there just may be something to it. At least, I'm not going to dismiss it simply because I am ignorant about how it works.

I understand that the unknown can be scary, but I have never run away from the unknown. I prefer to reject things based on information and personal experience.

In India, Vedic astrology is commonplace. Most Indians (minus the lowest castes) have their astrological charts drawn at birth. It is a matter of course, primarily because it's considered quite practical. That is, a skilled astrologer is able to tell you many things about your life, including details about your general disposition (whether you are more suited to marriage/family life or the life of a monk) and the manner of your death (time and cause).

I am not afraid of "death" per se, as my intuition insists that death is the reward in life, the heaven part of the heaven/hell dichotomy. But I am fascinated by the idea of knowing in advance the circumstances of one's death, perhaps because it just seems so wrong...but why should it be wrong? Lately I have taken to consulting those around me, western and Indian, for their impressions on the subject.

Unsurprisingly, there seems to be a clear divide along cultural lines; traditional westerners are, in general, a bit horrified by the prospect. But when I asked Swamiji about it, he simply pointed out the practical aspect, claiming that if you know when you're going to die beforehand, you can properly prepare for it by taking care of unfinished business and tying up any "loose ends."

My favorite response came from Louise* (names have been changed to protect the insane), a European woman who was told by an astrologer that she will die within ten years time. When she got the news, her first reaction was of relief, "I have enough money to last until then."

So why it is a bad idea to know in advance the circumstances of your death (I'm listening if you'd like to offer your perspective)? If these things really are "written" as they say, my inclination is toward the practical aspect. I mean, who wants to leave a bunch of loose ends when they head on out of here?

Swamiji did offer one potential downside, saying that if there is something quite bad in your horoscope - i.e. death by violent murder - that such information could stress you out or make you paranoid. It's a good point.

But then, I find myself stressed by all kinds of things, whether it's six thousand moshing Indians, impudent cockroaches chilling out in my kitchen or wondering whether they really will put me in jail for that silly little visa violation. Besides, I've had a funky rash on my arm for the last month, a chest infection that refuses to die, and now, an infection where the sun don't shine. This is the stuff of life (in 94 degrees and 94 percent humidity, it seems).

At least I can choose my reaction to the news. And I have a history of choosing the bright side (at least it was a june bug in my panties and not something that bites..).

So tomorrow morning I will meet with Dr. Amodini, a local astrologer who lives across the river. I will not ask her to outline my future just yet...I want simply to meet her and ask some questions about how all this chart-reading business works. We'll just have to wait and see where it all goes.

. . . . .

Wow, two postings in two days...I sat down to finish my story from yesterday, but a bunch of other stuff came out instead. Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup. Part II of yesterday’s story is bound to flow out sometime,

Jai Guru Deva, Om
hugs and God's blessings be upon you,

LMA

Hey T, I heard you think I’m lazy…well guess what? I think you’re lazy!!! Ha ha haa haa ha haaaaaa! Takes one to know one! Love you too much, bro. Laze on.