Anything Goes in Spiritual Disneyland

Last night I spoke with my mama and again our conversation brought up some interesting points. First, it made me realize that I am slowly but surely losing touch with the general perspective back home. That is, the longer I stay here - in this land of absolute madness - the more normal it becomes, and the more difficult it is to remember what is supposed to be weird.

For example, it's quite normal for people here to talk about "energy," invite you for meditation, describe some elaborate fasting procedure, expound on the virtues of drinking your own urine or congratulate you for being sick (it means you're getting better). Pretty much anything goes here in Spiritual Disneyland, a place where you can walk around with underwear on your head and still be taken seriously.

Now let me say that I always intend to be as clear as possible when I write for this blague, but my alternative reality means I don't always realize when something isn't clear.

So I invite and encourage questions! No matter how mundane or silly they might seem, I learn much more from your questions than you do from my answers (yes, there's a selfish motive here). A dialogue is far more interesting than an endless monologue, anyway, and most comments are posted as anonymous, so there is nothing to lose.


. . . . .


Living in a holy city means that God - in all of God's infinite forms - is a constant topic of conversation. In the last two years I have become accustomed to using terms I wouldn't have dreamed of using back in California, such as God and faith. (For the record, the word "faith" entered my vocabulary in the spring of 2005, thanks to my father, and "God" came in the spring of 2007, thanks to Mother Ganga.) I understand if you can't appreciate these words as I didn't appreciate them for most of my life, either. See? I'm not so far away after all...


The Second Birth of Lola: A Brief History

My life can be easily divided into two parts: pre-January 2001 and post-January 2001. My memories from before 2001 are few and vague. When I think back to the person I was, it feels as though I am recalling a character from a movie I've seen and don't remember well. If you ask me why I did certain things or made certain decisions, I simply can't say because I don't remember what was in my head at the time. All I know for sure is that I was deeply depressed and that for many years I wanted to die.

Then, a concurrence of events at the start of 2001 (including a book about quantum mechanics) resulted in my awareness being "switched on," much like a light switch. Quite suddenly and dramatically I became aware of all kinds of things I never cared to notice before, from the beauty of the flowers along the highway to the way the earth and moon revolve around the sun. But the most important thing I became aware of was a very strong faculty of intuition.

I refer to January 2001 as my "second birth" (I could spend weeks writing about this one, but I am way too lazy for that now). The first notable event after my second birth was the passing of mi abuelito - my paternal grandfather - in the spring of 2001. My intuition told me to quit my job and go meet his family in Mexico.

Every major decision I've made since then has been informed by a strong intuition, a "feeling" that doesn't come from my mind. And this is why I thank God for this gift, because my mind is a bit of a cesspool and who knows where I might be now if I was forced to rely on it, maybe dead. Or worse, stuck in some lucrative career somewhere.

I'm aware that it makes no sense whatsoever for me to stay here from a logical, practical perspective. I'm not earning money, I'm not getting any skills to add to my CV, and I'm certainly not relaxing on holiday. The only thing keeping me here is my intuition - my feeling, conviction, whatever you want to call it - that this is where I have to be.


What is It?

In my personal experience, intuition has absolutely nothing to do with logic or the mind, which is why it's a difficult concept to elucidate. I decided to investigate by checking with a couple of dictionaries.

According to the online Cambridge dictionary, intuition is "(knowledge obtained from) an ability to understand or know something immediately without needing to think about it, learn it or discover it by using reason."

And according to the word reference site, intuition is "direct perception of truth, fact, etc., independent of any reasoning process; a keen and quick insight."

When I consulted Swamiji, he offered a metaphor; describing intuition as the "all-knowing faculty of the soul," he told me to imagine the soul as the sun and the mind as the moon. The sun has infinite light that then reflects on the moon, which actually has no light of its own. In other words, the light of intuition - originating in the soul - is reflected on the mind, which then gives it a "logical" interpretation.

This means that everyone - absolutely everyone - has the capacity for intuition. I'm sure I had it before my second birth, but it was so weak compared to my mind that I was unable to perceive it.

It's really not surprising that in our left-brain dominated cultures the concept of intuition seems mysterious and difficult to grasp. It's part of the reason I am giving myself plenty of time here in Spiritual Disneyland; after nearly 30 years of being trained to optimize the left hemisphere of the brain, I really need to develop other skills.


And Now to the Point

My stepfather George has been at the forefront of my heart and mind in the last weeks. He didn't talk much, but when he did it was often to encourage me to be a better quality human being. I honestly can't think of anyone else in my life who did this for me. I guess that makes him my first mentor.

It happens that the more time I spend with Swamiji, my current mentor, the closer I get to George. Especially when Swamiji reminds me that I must not behave as an average woman; that I must behave as a queen. His insistence that I hold myself to a higher standard is exactly what George tried to teach me with his speeches about racehorses and how important it is to keep my word..

In honor of my stepfather and his wise words of inspiration, I finally decided to get back on the meditation wagon. I was nervous that I would be in pain trying to sit properly on the floor for 90 minutes, and I was. But in fact the time passed quickly and afterwards I not only felt a great sense of relief but a peaceful inclination to remain quiet as well.

The first step is always the most difficult, but with the continuing support and encouragement of my mentors I'm confident I will get there. Now I've been back on the wagon for three days and I can't remember what I was waiting for.

Thank you, George, for staying with me and helping me through this...we love you and miss you so much.


Life in the Kesh: Highlights and Lowlights

One side-effect of my recent existential crisis is that my blague has been saturated with endless personal revelations. So I decided to borrow my friend Niko's clever and convenient summary format to re-connect with the daily details here in the Kesh (Thanks, Niko!);


Highlights

• Two words: Ganga Mataji! (The river, for all you secular peoples.)
• My beloved teacher, a.k.a. my signpost in the desert and the only person who makes any sense to me, Swami Dharmananda.
• The fascinating, improbable or downright kooky characters who come here from all around the world.
• Mangoes for 20 cents!
• Baby monkeys swinging in the trees while I sip chai on the banks of Mother Ganga.
• The guy who walks around offering to clean ears, or to "just check."
• The constant coincidences that make you realize there is no such thing!
• The abandoned, overgrown and magically peaceful Beatles Ashram.
• The city-wide prohibition on meat and alcohol (means I get high just by taking my cough syrup).
• The ayurvedic doctor who prescribed "singing and dancing" for my weak pulse.
• Eastern style toilets...they're cleaner, prevent hemorrhoids, and you can't fall off.
• Majestically surreal monsoon downpours (when I'm not walking around lost in the mountains).



Lowlights

• Crowds of pushing, staring Indians.
• Tiny puppies who rarely survive more than a week.
• Incessant honking from cars, motorcycles, busses and rickshaws.
• The heat, humidity, mold, mosquitoes and regular power outages.
• The frogs and geckoes who shit in my room.
• Indians who shit everywhere.
• The miserable 36-hour power outage that ended in a riot outside my building.
• Being sweaty, itchy and covered in a hundred flies all competing for a place on your open wounds and chai glass.
• The Indians who beat cows and dogs...where is your soul????
• Cows, dogs, and people with missing, broken and/or diseased limbs.
• Walking into a sleeping cow in the black of night and instantly aging seven years.



Score: 12 highlights to 11 lowlights...looks like I'm staying.

Hari Om, until next time..
with affection,
LMA