This weekend we went to Kerala - a beach town a 2-6 hour drive, depending on unexplained variables. The ocean, browner and fiercer than any I'd seen before - splashed just a short walk from our rooms. The 9 of us has a couple of days to be together, make choices en mass, enjoy sand in our toes and beds, and take in lots of roadside views.
Friday night we settled in and had a delicious dinner and hung out at the beach, but I crashed pretty hard. Saturday we visited a temple for Puja at 7:30 am with what Steve refers to as a "monster priest." It was pretty incredible, two men dressed in headgear and body paint blessing hoards of people - potentially many tourists, we saw loads of signs for "tourist homes" and most folks were dressed very nicely It was right on the water, which was incorporated into the ritual. We stayed to see people weighed on scale to determine how much food they would give as a gift to the people for prasad, and for a dance between the two priests at the end that was quite intricate and well attended..
The rest of the day held a tour of a cotton factory, where mostly women were employed to dye, spin and sew organic textiles. It was very cool to see how in one space how fabric all came together, and learn more about the process. Afterward we went to a fort to walk around, and then got to relax for the rest of the day. The ride back home on Sunday was rather long, but we got to stop for lunch at a non-hotel spot for the first time on the trip and the paneer was out of the world.!
Sunday night felt rather scattered for me, and after a conversation with Steve about how it was getting hard for me to stay present I was thinking of the importance of reflection - specifically upon intention. Went back and read my first journal entry from the trip.
Last night we had a lecture on the Bhagvad Gita, and spiraled into a broad conversation about life, purpose, love, and being. It felt we got everywhere and nowhere. But the Gita is really fascinating. I was struck by it's content, but also the power of translation. Steve was reading from at least two different copies during the lecture, and we collectively had probably 5 or 6 different translations between the 10 of us. The one that I read most thoroughly is by Stephen Mitchell -- he also has an awesome translation of the Tao De Ching -- and I noticed how much easier it was for me to access than the others. It's contemporary in a way that is very accessible, very poetic and almost... obvious. I wonder about how translation can work between languages - between worlds, really - and what's gained and lost.
I had a conversation yesterday with Sindhu, SVYM's program coordinator, initially discussing gender roles in India. After realizing that what I was inquiring about was pretty much a thorough research paper in itself, we had a good dialogue about families and career, then got to talking about my experience of India and Hinduism. I noted how Hinduism as a religion was basically outsiders putting these practises in a box of "religion," and we discussed how organic, flexible and amorphous it really can be. Getting such a brief taste of this part of the world that is such a vibrant part of the cultural ecosystem, I wonder how much I can understand - and not just glean or halfway assume - from the mere translation from my experience as myself in the U.S. to that of myself in India. With my family back home, to being with new friends here.
Although I didn't know what to expect, so much good came from the visualizing I did before coming here. A lot that I feel I've missed out on in past travels was not having done that sort of mental preparation. There's a profundity to being somewhere new, which gives an opportunity to practice feeling awe at simply being alive. As things become like home here - stray mutts trotting back to their stoops, fruit vendors on the side of the road, crowded round-abouts and the shinning sun - there's an opportunity to dig into the feeling of becoming. Becoming aware of, in awe of, understanding of... Becoming comfortable with, frustrated with, in love with, at ease with. Of and with the things that line the fabric of any reality that has sewn itself together and torn itself apart.
We're at this juncture point of the trip - the hinges - with enough meat on both sides to be sandwiched out of the present moment. Which means that it's a dangerously expansive moment to sink into.
In the Gita, Krishna talks about how all paths lead to him. But... some get you there faster than others. In a similar way, every moment offers of the opportunity to behold the brilliance of life. But... some offer that in a way that's just a bit more eye-catching. I think the brilliance of life is that it need not take travel to feel the expansiveness of junctures. Observing the flow of life, the pulsation of inconsistency, of rhythm, even our own bodies changing over time. See a wedding. Watch a play. Notice your hair growing. Go for a swim. Graduate. Lose a loved one. Move houses. Have a child. All opportunities to wobble again. To touch base with the same sets of eyeballs that beheld childhood, adolescence, success and failure. To be reminded that you're still there for the ride.
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