I officially finished my first week of study at the school on Saturday August 8th. The first week was filled with a variety of experiences, ranging from pleasant to elating to nearly overwhelmingly intense, but along the whole spectrum, synchronicity has been as prevalent as the wandering cows, a constant reminder that I am exactly where I should be.
The weather here right now is quite humid. We are at about 1,745 feet elevation at the base of the Himalayas, and there has been nearly a constant haze that fills the air. There have been huge lightning and thunderstorms which are the loudest I’ve ever experienced because of the echo of being surrounded by mountains and being so elevated. Clouds cover the mountains in minutes, and can dissipate just as quickly. The foliage is also very similar to home, and with the exception of the monkeys and cows everywhere, the infamous Indian driving style replete with constant honking, and the regular brownouts and bad Internet connectivity, I might forget I am in India most of the time.
Quite honestly, the moment I opened my eyes and woke up to find us driving onto the school’s property, I felt as if I had been here before, and everywhere we’ve been is enmeshed in an unescapable feeling of similarity that is distinctly different than déjà vu and unlike any feeling I’ve had visiting a new place before. Everything should feel new, as I obviously have not been here before, but nothing feels completely novel, and it’s extremely strange and fascinating all at once. Regardless of why, which in this case is unknowable, I take it to mean that I have found somewhere else in the world I feel comfortable enough to call a second home. I already know I will be back here again.
I am learning so much about myself and so many subjects that interest me, from philosophy to anatomy to meditation and of course the actual yoga asanas (poses), and all of the teachers are so wonderful and genuinely care about what they are doing. I am very grateful because I have been very fortunate as an adult to have excellent teachers, first at my universities, and now here. Of course, everyone I meet teaches me something as long as I am willing to accept the lesson, but that is a different type of teaching that is generally not intentional.
I am continually progressing deeper into amazement about how things are falling into place about exactly why I am here. For instance, on day two in Philosophy class, I discovered that some conclusions I had come to about the Universe because of an intro physics class this past spring are some of the fundamental tenets of Indian Sankhya philosophy, the oldest philosophy in the world. Besides just being awesome, learning about this philosophy, on which yoga is grounded, has caused within me deep inspiration for songwriting, because this philosophy is just indescribably beautiful to me. I wish the class was longer than one hour a day.
No joke, I literally could sit there listening to the teacher talk for as long as he wished to speak, which I find highly amusing since he keeps apologizing for the “dryness” of the topics while everyone else is wondering if he’s gone off track, while I am slightly saddened at the end of every class because it has ended just as I feel it has started to begin.
I just think this is a clue that I must study this philosophy more deeply, and particularly as it relates to physics. There are these entire theories of the mind and the Universe within it that I can only describe as utterly “modern”, and these parallels between philosophy and physics are screaming at me to be explored.
Having a psychology degree, it is clear to me that psychology stems from philosophy. While these philosophy-physics parallels were apparent to me in the Western philosophy class I took years ago, it is even more apparent within Sankhya. Considering that this philosophy predates all others, it seems prudent to study the origin of all philosophies, especially one so elegant and thought-provoking.
It is nothing short of awe-inspiring that such an old philosophy would get so much right about the physical Universe that we only relatively (ha ha ha) recently understood to be true with modern methods. Seeing all this now explains why I ended up in the particular physics class I did, which evoked such strong emotional reactions in me that most days after class I would go home and cry for an hour because I became overwhelmed by how gorgeous physics is in its theories, explanations, and applications. Nothing I am studying now would mean nearly as much had I not taken that physics class.
And then there’s the meditation practice. Basically, I’d like to talk to Christopher Nolan and find out if he got his idea for Inception from India, because I have discovered and experienced that that is essentially what the practice of yoga nidra is.
Yoga nidra does not have a direct English translation, but roughly means “yogic sleep,” and is a guided meditation technique in which the body becomes completely relaxed and the mind is in a state of consciousness despite the brain producing theta and delta waves, that are generally produced only during sleep. During yoga nidra, you quickly rotate your awareness about your body, set a sankalpa or manifested positive intention, and visualize various things per instruction, like a sunset, a rose, and so forth, all while reminding yourself that you are not going to sleep, and you are practicing yoga nidra. One hour in this state is supposed to be as refreshing as four hours of regular sleep.
The first day we practiced this, I got lost in my subconsciousness, yet came back upon instruction. Afterwards, I was in a daze, because it felt almost exactly like the experience of anesthesia at first, of not knowing where I had been. I could hear what was happening but it was hard to make out because it was getting farther and farther away, like a voice being carried by the wind, and I had this bizarre sensation of my body vibrating. It shook me up, but of course, it fascinated me. Where did I go? How could I be so aware and yet so disconnected simultaneously? It was somewhat like lucid dreaming, but not quite. The mind-body connection is endlessly entrancing to me, and to experience something like this at will is amazing.
The second day we did this, I did not get lost, and the feeling of being entirely relaxed yet awake was such a pleasant and refreshing experience. Unfortunately, my hand involuntarily jerked at one point and brought me almost completely out of relaxation, but this is normal upon first beginning the practice. After all, meditation is a practice of calming the mind and the body, and the body is rather weak and resistant, hence the practice of yoga asanas as preparation for meditation. This yoga nidra filled me with happiness and appreciation for life, though, and combined with the philosophy class earlier that day, filled me with even more musical inspiration. Really made me wish I could transport a piano with me ala capsule, Dragonball-style.
Yesterday was the start of week two, and was the first day that was completely extremely challenging on all levels—mental, physical, emotional. Sunday, I accidentally ate a very fiery hot eggplant dish which was unintentionally served to me, which would normally be fine as I adore spicy heat, except that I am recovering from gastritis and putting my body through a lot of demands. This caused quite a bit of physical pain during eating, and left my stomach quite upset all day long.
I became very sad at the end of Meditation Theory class, as I sometimes do after meditation, for instance, when I think about how many people suffer because they live their lives not appreciating who or what they love until it is too late. I asked how we are supposed to deal with such thoughts and feelings. The teacher replied that everyone is always accumulating their own karma, and that we must always do our best to maintain focus on ourselves and what we are here in this life to do. This caused me to begin crying.
Later in meditation practice, we began practicing japa yoga, a meditation practice, during which mantra chanting is done using a mala (rosary). This arose intense unspecified emotions within me, which I quickly managed to set aside so I could concentrate.
After the meditation, we sat observing the effects on our minds and bodies, and I experienced the intense unspecified emotions arising again, this time resulting in a very fast, fluttering sensation about seven to eight inches in length across my chest lasting about four to five seconds. This again resulting in my beginning to cry, but I was able to suppress all but two tears, as I feared I would not be able to stop if I started. This was unusual, not in that I felt like crying, because there have been many times I have cried because of things that arose during meditation. It was unusual because I could not place what the feelings were about, just that they were very intense and that they were profoundly sad.
At dinner, I was able to have a discussion with my meditation teacher about my experience during japa, as I had not shared it during the class, being too preoccupied with trying not to cry. He advised me that I should just let such feelings arise, and that experiencing them would not be disturbing my concentration, but would actually be the purpose of the meditation at that point in time.
The teacher also pointed out—which became quite painfully obvious once he said it—that these unspecified emotions come from the repression of emotions, and repressing them again is not how to properly handle them, but instead, to just be an observer, to become detached from them. This is the point of meditation, after all. I knew this, too, but my subconscious had suppressed that with fear.
I asked how one practices detachment, and he replied, “By understanding yourself.” When he said this, I knew right away the answer was that once I understood myself, that detachment would automatically come, but I could not pinpoint exactly how. But it reminded me the point was to understand myself, not others, and also that my distressing thoughts about others or the world are just projections of my inner distress in the first place.
It reminded me that is a main part of why I am here, to understand myself on a level I have never attained before. To subject myself to strict mental, physical, and emotional discipline to take myself on a journey of my internal processes and hidden psychology, to understand what it is I am really here in this world to do. To question my decisions in life up until this point, to ponder my future, to consider everything known and unknown about my life and myself as it stands in the now.
To learn to express myself fully.
Truly, I have been repressing myself in one form or another all my life, and only recently have I realized that I cannot go on this way and have been taking measures to reverse this repression. Of course this process is going to hurt—repression in reverse is like pulling out a drain plug from a dam full of water. Once you do that, there’s no putting it back.
I expected this to hurt. What’s both hilarious and amazing to me is that even though I expected it, my body and mind are still fighting against themselves, and that my unconscious even went so far as to cause me to forget the purpose of meditation (become as if you are a third-party observer to your self) and even fail to see I was doing the very thing I came here to stop doing—repress my expression. We really are just weak sacks of meat running on autopilot, aren’t we?
During this morning’s asana class the teacher explained the mantra we had sung to commence our practice. During his explanation, he stated that a translation of “enlightenment” is “knowing yourself.” Then the process of how detachment would occur became clear to me: knowing or understanding yourself is to become enlightened, or lighter, and thus detached, as once things detach from you, it follows that you would feel lighter as a result. I could go on and on about the various philosophical interpretations, but this perspective is what came full circle for me from the day before.
I am mentally preparing myself now to allow whatever happens to happen. I have no idea what might arise, but I do know I have experienced a significant amount of pain in my life that I have repressed just in order to survive, to carry on, to accomplish goals I set for myself. But right now, the goal is to stop doing that, so I need to keep that consciously in my mind, to get to a deeper understanding of myself and the self in general.
The only way to dispel a fear is to face it. The goal and point of japa is to arise subconscious fears and desires of the mind to the conscious, in order to observe them and deal with them directly instead of being directed by them unconsciously, thus transforming negative emotions or thoughts into positive ones, removing obstacles to future meditation, inducing a calm state of mind. The challenging part in both meditation and asana practice, is relaxing enough to allow things to happen, instead of concentrating effort and paradoxically preventing what you are trying to achieve, or worse, injuring yourself or repressing things further.
I find it quite symbolic that we began this study during the Hindu festival called Sawan Shivratri, a month dedicated to Lord Shiva, the Hindu deity who destroys or transforms all negative energy. The culmination of this festival is tomorrow. Synchronicity everywhere.
