The temple of God is within your soul

 

 

The temple of God is within your soul. 

Enter into this quietness and sit there in meditation with the light of intuition burning on the altar.

There is no restlessness, no searching or striving there. 

Come into the silence of solitude, and the vibration there will talk to you with the voice of God.

And you will know that the invisible has become visible, and the unreal has become real.

Parahamsa Yogananda

An elegant summation of the true aim of yoga by a great, good, generous, frankly gorgeous yogi who has done so much to transport and translate the gifts of yoga from east to west. 

I feel the deep truth of his words resonating throughout my being -a lovely feeling.

Hari om 

Jennifer

Notes from Anandashram

Om sri ram jai ram jai jai ram, sri ram jai ram jai jai ram

Approaching the shrine of Papaji

This morning I was roused from sleep by a devotional male chorus, chanting the mantra that is the core spiritual practice here at Anandashram. 

The ashram's beloved founder, Swami Ramdas, (affectionately referred to as Papaji - dear father) is reputed to have achieved enlightenment through this method and accordingly devotees uphold the practice.

The ram nam is sung continuously from dawn 'til dusk alternately by male and female bhaktas. The practice is rotated daily between the three mahasamadhi shrines of Papaji, Mataji and Swami Satchidanda.* Such a beautiful way to meet the day; I lie in bed, eyes still closed and smiling inside. 

I might equally be stirred awake by the lowing of the ashram cows - also lovely. With names such as Bhavani (consort of Shiva), Bhagavati ( enlightened teacher), Vidya (knowledge), Mala (garland) these ladies are well cared for. 

I visited the goshala (cowshed) during my first days here, observing tidy bales of straw, rubber boots organised neatly in pairs and a mother tending to her newborn calf.

Goshala

I am housed in a concrete block, six rooms in a row sharing two bathrooms. Rooms are clean, light and basic: narrow wooden beds, a desk, a chair.

As the only foreigner I get to bear close witness to the daily habits and rituals of the Indians. In the absence of western comforts and conveniences it can be helpful to watch and learn how to get things done.

For example, there is no laundry service, very much a personal challenge! The common practice is to soak one's clothing in a bucket filled to the brim with water and to leave this overnight in the hallway.  Items are rinsed through the following morning and hung on the indoor clothes line in the common area. Larger items such as saris and bed linen are spread flat on the gravel outside in the strong, bright sunlight. 

Naturally enough the toilets are Indian squat style and the bathing facilities are equally straightforward: cold tap, bucket and jug. This suits me well although I am careful to time my sessions, scurrying along the corridor wrapped in a sheet (no bathrobe!) to avoid encountering and embarrassing any of the men.  In the warm humidity of Kerala morning and evening baths feel necessary; it gets quite dusty on the roads and paths.

Peeping into the bhajan hall

It surprises me that the accommodation is mixed as so many of the ashram activities are segregated by sex. Separate queues and seating in the canteen, and also in the main bhajan hall. 

I am thrilled to find myself belonging to a community of women. Eating together, singing together and sitting out together in the warm evenings after dusk. 

It doesn’t matter that I don't understand their conversations. It is enough to be with them. Absorbing with delight the details of their dress, their handwritten prayer books, the way they conduct themselves. 

We sit close together, cross legged on the floor, elbows and knees touching, I don’t mind the lack of personal space: spending intimate time with Indian women is a rare blessing.  

I have learned some gentle feminine etiquettes, such as dressing my hair with fresh jasmine flowers.  It looks delightful and acts as a natural air freshener, gently perfuming one’s environment with every turn of the head.  I have also acquired the habit of carrying a cotton handkerchief, folded and tucked into my churidar(wide cotton trousers). 

These are mainly ladies of a certain age, in their fifties, sixties and seventies. At this stage of life freedom from raising children and/or work permits them to undertake yatra (spiritual pilgrimage) and visit ashrams. 

There is plenty of smiling and nodding as we acknowledge each other. Any conversation is dependent on their level of English. As, alas, I have no Hindi. Typically the questions come Which country?  or Coming from? Followed closely by Your good name? Married? First visit to India?

Prema and Nirmala introduce themselves

Most of ladies I spoke with had been visiting Anandashram regularly, many for decades as disciples of the original guru.  

In the tranquility of mataji’s peace garden, sisters Prema and Nirmala ignored the signs requesting silence and told me of their annual eight day visit from Coimbatore. 

Every year we are coming, it is most important to visit ashram, stay at least one week. This very calm place, life so busy, no?

Jyoti, a plump and chatty retired school teacher from Hyderabad likes to sit next to me during the evening meal. She scours the dining hall looking for me and settles happily by my side, usually bringing extras that she has mysteriously acquired, carried in a stainless steel tiffin. Chapattis, bananas and sweet treats such as ladoo and pak .

Mealtimes are announced by the clanging of a large bell outside the canteen. Guests and residents dutifully form lines: men to the left, women to the right and file in. As we are in South India, rice is the basis of every meal prepared in the endless creative variations: idlis, dosa, upma for breakfast and huge avalanches of plain rice served with vegetable sauces at lunch and dinner, supplemented by milk and curd from the dairy. 

Communal canteen

The schedule at Anandashram is full with chanting and singing of all kinds. There is no obligation to attend but I pretty much love it all! I have joined in the chanting of ram nam, slowly pacing the shrine rooms of the departed gurus and clapping a steady rhythm. 

Yesterday morning I sat in on Om namaha shivayah, a favourite chant of mine, sung unaccompanied by a petite lady in her seventies, her solo voice was raw, wavering and deeply soulful. Definitely the most powerful and memorable rendition I have heard so far.

Possibly my personal highlight has been listening to the Hanuman chalisa, sung by the women, accompanied by harmonium. I am keen to learn this epic poem for myself and twice I took a copy of the words along but found the singing so blissful and enjoyable that I chose to simply relax and absorb the vibrations.

I’ve drawn a few tentative conclusions about my time here:

Simplicity in practice. Bhajan and mantra sound very good sung solo, unaccompanied – or minimally accompanied: musicality comes second.

Letting go of learning I didn’t have a chant sheet or song book and the bhajans were complex, I had to forget about trying to learn them. This focused me in the present moment and enabled me to receive, receive, receive.

Singing with women This is quite personal to me, I feel so safe and nourished in an all female setting. I am keen to explore this further.

Raghupati Raghav Raja Ram (Ram Dhun) Anandashram by divine yoga

Blessings and pranams

Jennifer 

*Further information on the spiritual lineage at Anandashram

www.anandashram.org/divinemasters

A simple Diwali in Dharamkot

A selection of the goodies on sale

Three days ago a large supply of fireworks and crackers was delivered to the village. Cardboard boxes of various sizes in bright packaging promising excitement and fun.

It was a bit of a happening: boys  of all ages crowded round as they were unloaded from a small pick-up van and displayed on a folding table outside the general store.

Whenever I passed by I would see clusters of children chattering excitedly, maybe spending a few rupees pocket money on sparklers or crackers, whilst dreaming of the larger rockets and bangers.

This was the only Diwali related commercial activity I noticed in Dharamakot, save advertisements in the newspapers entreating housewives to upgrade their kitchen appliances. Preparations were simple, householders stringing garlands of plastic flowers across doorways and paper lanterns in porches.

Late morning I was invited into the Sanctuary, a holistic spa and workshop space by the co-owners Anand and Gora.  I had met them a couple of days ago and we had chatted for ages about India and holistic therapies.

In a fusion representative of their respective ancestries (Gora is French, Anand is from Pune) we shared genuine espresso and traditional Indian sweets made with ghee and jaggery, absurdly unhealthy but an enjoyable treat. I also enjoyed the company of Kala, Anand’s precious pet Chihuahua who had been ordered on the internet and shipped to Delhi by breeders in Thailand.  

The shopkeepers and café owners of Dharamkot were in buoyant mood. At the fruit and veg stand I submitted my usual request for two bananas and held out a ten rupee note which is the regular price. The grocer’s eyes twinkled as he picked out three bananas. Happy Diwali! He laughed as he wrapped them in newspaper.

I checked in with Mohan who single handedly runs Cool Talk Corner where I eat most evenings, to see whether or not he would be opening. Today early closing. I have to make fire and puja. Can make money every day but Diwali one day only!

Instead I visited the Trek and Dine, I hadn’t eaten here before as there is a large Bob Marley poster on the wall, which is traveller code for You can smoke marijuana here.  I noticed a few other refugees from Mohan’s place, but chose a quiet table to myself.  In the street below random crackers were being launched, setting off  car alarms at regular intervals.

Back at Paul's Guest House I had a dilemma. My room really needed cleaning, I had been looking out for Jatinda who does the housekeeping all day.

Dusk was falling and festivities were about to start and I finally saw him in the common lounge as he was locking up and preparing to leave.

Happy Diwali!  I began. Jatinda smiled broadly and returned the greeting.

I'm so sorry to ask you now, but is it possible to get my room cleaned now? I ventured, embarrassed to be asking.

Yes! I do it now! In a moment Jatinda was on his feet.

I fetched some clean linen and followed him to my room on the first floor. I was baffled, taken aback by Jatinda's continued good mood. I felt sure that the timing of my request was unreasonable and inappropriate, but he clearly did not feel the same and I was deeply touched by his natural joy, happiness and generosity.

We gazed out from my balcony together as the sun set and lights began to twinkle on the hillside. Tonight all of India is celebrating!  Jatinda declared with pride and satisfaction. I thanked him effusively for his service and he left to join his family.

NASA photograph of India at Diwala from space

What should I do? I had three options. I could head into neighbouring Bhagsu village where there were two Hindu temples and get fully stuck in to the merriment. Or I pop back into Dharamakot; everyone would be out on the streets I felt sure of it. Or I could squirrell myself away and observe the celebrations from the guest house.

It was an easy choice, the view from my balcony was so lovely. I was able to watch locals visiting a tiny shrine, lighting the tiny clay lamps that give Diwali it's literal meaning (Sanskrit for row of lights).

As the night sky darkened the village lights appeared bright and cosy and then the celebrations really began.

Fireworks and crackers were fired off from all directions with unrelenting intensity. This in turn caused dogs to bark, baby goats to bleat and sulphurous smoke to seep in to my room even though I had closed the windows and shutters. It was really, really noisy. The fireworks continued into the night, past midnight I am told although amazingly I fell asleep at around ten pm.

I remember my first Diwali in India, in 2004. I was living in Mysore, studying astanga vinyasa yoga. I had arrived in early October and as such was present to a string of Hindu festivals, Navaratri, Dusshera and then Diwala. In addition to the fireworks and so on, vast speakers the size of  small dwellings were transported around the city on trucks decorated with flashing bright lights, pumping amplified devotional music and hindi hit songs throughout the night.

It was all too much, the noise was driving me insane! I used  my emergency credit card to book into an expensive ayurvedic spa retreat twenty kilometers away from the city, to be soothed by clean, cool cotton sheets and tranquility.

This year I have been holding my friends and the community of Glastonbury in my mind and heart. As Diwali is celebrated on the new moon in October, so is lunar samhain. It is a powerful time to be present in town as the veil thins and darkness is animated in ritual, song and ceremony.

It is a night of mayhem and revelry and generally I stay home for that one too. I am happy to be here where the light is celebrated.

Jyotir namaha!
May the inner light shine always

Jennifer

Monday is Moon Day

During the summer I was introduced to the idea of days of the week being named after the planets.

This had never occurred to me although obviously the Gregorian calendar is based on planetary cycles: months approximately one lunar cycle and a year representing the time taken for the Earth to journey around the Sun.

I would like to share the following unabridged commentary on the esoteric meaning of Monday, which I recorded at New Holistic Camp 2011.

Elucidated by Tchenka, an alchemical astrologist, who held the morning meetings. On first hearing I was struck by Tchenka's natural eloquence and grace, she was completely unscripted, speaking from the heart, and her words form a beautiful prayer or meditation.  

  

The moon reflects the light of the sun, reflected polarised light, that's what special about moonlight, no light of its own, pure reflection.

And it rules the waters the tides, the tide of life, the growth and reproduction of nature, the rise and fall of the sap, it is the Mother: Artemis, Phoebe, Diana

The spirit moved upon the waters of the Earth and brought forth life, the water within us captures the light and grows in response to the light.

Vivacious Tchenka

We have the earth, our bodies; we have air, the breath which connects us; fire which is our warmth and vitality and the life spark that quickens us and the water, we are 98% water, let's be aware of our wateryness.

Water is the soul, the part of us that captured spirit and held it within our bodies, so Monday is a soulful day.

We feel as emotions, those feelings inside how they ebb and flow and change from one thing to another! Somethimes like a rushing sparkling stream, sometimes like a great still lake. 

It is water that connects us on the level of compassion and feeling to all the rest of life. Even the smallest blade of grass is full of life: water really links us.

Tchenka is associated with the UK Wheel of Astrologers  

www.wheelofastrologers.co.uk

Happy holi!

Here in India one finds oneself in the middle of Holi, the Festival of Colours, a three day spring festival celebrated nationwide, a most exuberant and joyful time.

It's all about having fun and "letting one's hair down", this is the most commonly used phrase I have heard.

India is already colourful enough, yet during Holi the brightest possible pigment powders are thrown enthusiastically at passers by in the streets and people gather to sing, dance and generally have a good time.

Elephant processions and feasting are all part of the fun. Holi hai!