In Search of A World Inside This One
My early 20’s were a turbulent time. I was getting ready to graduate from college at 23. My life seemed to be going well, except that I had so much self-loathing I couldn’t stand to be in my own skin. Turbulent. I often escaped with alcohol and developed a disordered relationship with food. My on and off again boyfriend of 5-years was like a bad drug I couldn’t quit. My relationships with my close friends weren’t much better. One of my friends told me at a bar one night that I had turned into a miserable person. I stormed out of the bar cursing her under my breath. But I knew she was right. Things were bumpy.
But I suspected, as W.B. Yeats once said, “There is another world, but it is inside this one.” I needed to go and find that “other world”. The one I was living in was not working out for me. A few weeks after the bar incident, I asked my friend Hannah to meet me at a coffee shop to discuss an idea I had.
Hannah’s mom taught my first yoga class when I was 18-years old. I didn’t feel right going to India to study yoga without Hannah. The yoga teacher training course I chose was one of the cheapest ones I could find. It was called Arhanta Yoga, and they had a school in India and the Netherlands. It seemed legitimate and had good reviews. I planned to sell Hannah on my plan no matter what it took. In the end, all it took was asking her if she wanted to come along.
I used my earnings from working at Buenos Grill and graduation money to pay for the training and a round-trip flight half-way across the world. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined all that lay ahead. I also did not know the decision to go to India would have lasting effects that would change the course of my life…
Finding The Ashram
Hannah and I planned to catch the overnight train from Agra, India to Khajuraho, where we would live in an ashram and study yoga for the next 4-weeks. We sprinted with our child-like backpacks in tow to catch the train as it slowly rolled away. Somehow we made it safely but ended up in the wrong section of the train. We scurried around the mounds of sleeping people until we reached our bottom sleeper bunk at the very back of the train. With the help of a magical sleeping aid, Hannah and I laid back in our bunks and fell into a trance-like sleep.
The train stopped suddenly in the middle of the night. Many people got up and began to exit the train. Feeling looped out and confused, we popped out of our bunks and asked if we had reached Khajuraho. The man next to us shook his head and signaled for us to go back to bed. This cycle repeated itself about two more times. Again the sleeping pill knocked us out cold. We awoke to this same man shaking us out of sleep. “Khajuraho!” he repeatedly yelled while pointing to all the passengers exiting the train. I thought I was dreaming. We gathered our luggage onto our backs and shuffled out with the crowd into the open air.
It was not hard to find our training group after exiting the train- the western-like faces and attire were a dead giveaway. We all piled into three cars and headed toward the Ashram. I imagined our Ashram would be a similar arrangement to that observed in the movie “Eat, Pray, Love.” I pictured a beautiful temple with colorful Indian artwork carved within the walls. I assumed the yoga pavilion would have marble-like flooring and tall pillars to support the intricate structure. There definitely would be a big dining hall, where we may even sit on soft floor cushions during our hearty Indian meals. My excitement grew with each minute that passed. After days of travel and anxiety, I would finally be able to relax in India.
Our cars took a dirt road as we neared the Ashram. I was relieved our home would be secluded from city life—there is nothing like fresh mountain air and the sound of solitude. Our vehicle came to a stop at a gate with a couple of small buildings in the distance, and people began to exit the cars. “Wait. Are we here?” I asked. The people in my car looked just as confused as I was. “Where in the hell is the Ashram?”
URGENT Email
A couple of months before leaving for India, Hannah and I received an email from our training coordinators entitled “URGENT.” The school’s reservation for the Ashram was canceled last minute due to an unexpected celebration. Our coordinators had no choice but to move the training to their newly purchased Ashram, which was still under construction. The email said this new site had over 17 acres of lush green land surrounded by hills and farms. They assured us that they would speed up the building process, and all would be well. I gave my consent, thinking the owners were in the final building stages, not knowing that the new Ashram did not yet exist.
Ashram Life
“So it is basically a farm,” Hannah and I concluded while observing the goats, bulls, and cows in the distance. The farm came equipped with two brick buildings with bamboo roofing that resembled trailers. Each building had ten dorm rooms. Our housing amenities included two beds, a bathroom, and a ceiling fan that worked half the time. We were thrilled we had a western-style toilet and not a squatty potty. Mosquito nets enclosed the beds, which were big enough for a medium-sized child. I named my bed the “princess bed” because of the light blue netting that resembled a canopy and charming pink bed sheets. The mattresses weren’t exactly fit for royalty. I woke up with bedsores on more than one occasion due to their solid density. Physical comfort was still lacking in our journey.
Our designated eating area lasted only a couple of days. Tiny, black rolly-polly type bugs ruined our dining experience rather quickly. They would come torpedoing down from the bamboo ceiling and land in our food. I thought it was hilarious until one fell into my tea. Then I understood why these tiny bombs caused so much misery. We later referred to the bugs as Gandhi Ji’s. Adding “Ji” to someone’s name in India is a sign of respect. These little suckers rightfully claimed their territory, and the yoga pavilion became our new dining hall.
The yoga pavilion, or classroom, was where we spent most of our time. It was a square concrete structure enclosed by dark green netting. It wasn’t fully rain, bug, or animal proof, but it felt cozy. The hard orange flooring rubbed off on your feet and made its way onto our white uniforms. We sat on the floor with pillows during our meals and lectures. Only those that were sick got to sit in a chair. My back was sore in the beginning but slowly grew stronger with time.
Doing laundry in India was always an experience. We washed our clothes in buckets and hung them out to dry on clotheslines tied to trees. Daily, we would all make a mad dash across the dirt path to snag our garments from the lines before the sudden downpour of rain. July is considered the rainy season in India, and that year the rain decided to show up in full force. The local villagers were thrilled because the moisture meant they would have a successful growing season. Many of the villagers attributed the rain to our training group’s presence and believed we brought good luck to the area.
The excessive rainfall didn’t fare too well for us, unfortunately. The heavy stream of water messed up the newly installed filtration system where we got our drinking water. Everyone in our training group got sick at one point or another. The lucky ones recovered, while the misfortunate ones remained ill almost the entire duration of the training.
Big Magic Yellow Pill
Hannah and I got sick on the very first day on the farm. We retreated to our rooms after our first yoga practice before dinner. I laid down on my princess bed, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion. Then, I shot up off my bed, looked at Hannah, declared I would be sick, and dashed for the bathroom. I reemerged and confirmed I was ill and laid back down. Then, Hannah shot up off her bed, looked at me, declared she felt sick, and then dashed to the bathroom. She, too, was ill.
We both were too sick to make it out of our rooms for dinner. I had a burning fever and couldn’t determine if this was all a part of a lucid dream or my reality. Someone came in to check on us when we didn’t show up for dinner. They saw how out of it we both were and promised to send someone immediately.
The last thing I remember was the ashram coordinator, Pinit, coming into our room and giving us each a super-sized yellow pill. I took it without question and fell back into an unconscious state. The next morning Hannah and I both woke up feeling weak but without a fever or stomach pains. “Holy crap!” we declared. That yellow pill saved our lives. Not only did it bring us back to life, but it allowed us to participate in the first official day of our training. I suddenly became very interested in checking out the local Indian pharmacy before heading back home.
Ashram Drama
Little in India surprised Hannah and me by the time we reached the farm. The Ashram wasn’t exactly what we expected, but the whole purpose of signing up for the yoga teacher training was to study yoga. We weren’t looking for a vacation. Sure, I would have preferred to practice yoga on marble flooring instead of the chalky orange one that stained everything it touched. But this was something I was willing, and now able, to overlook.
We had enough physical comfort back home in America. Those luxuries weren’t making me any happier, so I was up for trying something new. I was also unbelievably lucky to have Hannah. We were both committed to learning, growing stronger, and laughing through it all. Our lack of amenities and physical discomforts just added to the experience.
Not everyone accepted the state of the Ashram. Five people from our group left within the first two days. Others demanded that half our money be refunded. Some of the girls who decided to go felt it was necessary to complain about the Ashram to the local police. One night about twenty-five police officers came to interrogate everyone. It got kind of messy, but luckily, we weren’t the ones who had to deal with sorting it all out. Instead, we continued to live in our spiritual bubble- which some referred to as “prison.”
Daily Schedule
Ashram life didn’t leave a lot of time for me to complain. Our days began at 5 am and ended at 8 pm, six days per week. The schedules centered around yoga. Daily, we practiced various yogic methodologies, including pranayama (breathing), meditation, chanting, asana (posture), and kriyas (cleansing techniques). Then we learned about yogic philosophy and the anatomy of the human body and its relation to physical postures. Each day we did our own asana practice and then taught a 90-minute class to each other. In total, we did about 4-hours asana practice per/day. Our meals were light and solely vegetarian. Not consuming meat or dairy products didn’t bother me; however, one of the girls from Texas, named Patsy, craved a hamburger every time she saw a nearby cow.
Learning From Some of The Best
The amenities may have been lacking, but quality teachers were not. Yogi Ram was the founder and lead teacher of our training. He started Arhanta Yoga in his small living room in the Netherlands. Yogi Ram was originally from New Delhi, and his Vedic philosophy education began at eight. He was a disciplined man who knew what he was talking about. Yogi Ram had in-depth knowledge of classical Hatha Yoga and was also well versed in ancient Indian scriptures. He also had years of teaching experience and expertise in anatomy, physiology, teaching, adjustments, and modification techniques. His wife, Kalyani, was another one of our teachers and was extremely knowledgeable and kind.
Shakti was a special edition of the teaching staff. He was a naturopathic doctor from Southern India. I sincerely appreciated his enthusiasm for life and all things related to health. He told us the story of the “Bhagavad Gita” and presented it with so much joy and clarity. We called his lectures “Story Time With Shakti,” and I always looked forward to learning from him.
Life After The Ashram
At the farm, Hannah and I learned to embrace the simplicity of our environment. I was not aware of how I would be different when I returned from this experience. The following lessons are those that I carried with me after our journey had ended.
I am a learner
I developed a deep love of learning at the farm that I never had during my formal education years. There was now this “learning” part of me that became anxious if not fed. I wanted to know all that I could about the science, philosophy, and yoga practice- or rather living a meaningful life. Not only did I want to learn, but I felt like a capable student for the first time in my life.
Surrender
Many things happened in India that I felt resistant to. At first, I resisted eating in silence, sitting for a long time in meditation, and the yoga style we practiced and I would eventually teach. I also resisted standing in front of a group of people and leading a 90-minute class. At the beginning of our training, I rarely talked to anyone but Hannah because I saw others as threatening and resisted socializing with them.
At some point, I decided that life in India was unfolding in a certain way for a reason. If I resisted the experience because of my likes or dislikes, then I would miss out on the opportunity to let life take charge. I began surrendering my preferences to stay in my comfort zone, and instead, I willingly and openly participated in what was asked of me.
The result of that was learning how to nourish my body rather than punish it. I became physically and mentally stronger by fully participating in daily yoga practices. Even if things felt uncomfortable, I did them anyway. Sometimes I would fail miserably; other times I would succeed. Each experience resulted in the development of self-confidence. Slowly, I realized my self-worth. I could allow myself to be myself around others without feeling like I may get hurt. By living differently and being open to it all, I began to clean up my mind and slowly return to who I once was. I felt more self-assurance and joy than I had in a very long time.
You Are Not Your Thoughts
As Michael Singer says in his book The Untethered Soul, “There is nothing more important to true growth than realizing that you are not the voice of the mind – you are the one who hears it.”
I didn’t learn this lesson until I went to India.
We began each morning with a meditation practice. Sitting in silence was torturous at first. Listening to the turbulent thoughts in my mind was incredibly difficult. However, in India, we were taught, “you are not the mind. You are not the body.” I had this realization that all of these terrible thoughts I had been listening to were not even real. What a relief that lesson was.
How To Make Your Thoughts Sleep
All of those hours sitting in silence eventually started to pay off. I experienced what it was like to put my thoughts to sleep for a while and listen to complete silence. My mind had been running rampant for an overly extended amount of time. Finally, retreating into silence was the most beautiful gift. My thoughts woke back up, of course. But a consistent meditation practice will always slow them back down. Meditation helped me become less reactionary, more present, and able to handle life’s circumstances. Not always, of course. That is why it is a continuous practice.
The Effects Of A Clear Mind
After all the healthy eating, physical exercise, and mental work at the Ashram, my mind felt pretty clear. On top of all that, I didn’t drink a sip of alcohol when I was in India. This was the longest I had gone being sober since high school. On the last day of our training, we had to sit down and write a future life plan. Then, we had to discuss our plan with Yogi Ram individually. My plan included;
1) Take the next year off and travel/teach yoga
2) Go to grad school for speech-therapy
3) Get married and start a family
4) Open a yoga studio
It was a pretty basic list. But at the time, I remember thinking, “I don’t know how to make any of these things happen.” I also was shocked to discover I wanted to get married and have a family at some point. Getting into grad school seemed like another impossible feat. But everything somehow fell into place, and four years after my training, I accomplished items 1-3. I am sure number 4 will come to fruition before my life is over.
The Ashram Today
Our training group was the first graduating class of the Arhanta Yoga Ashram in Khajuraho. Today, the Ashram is much different from when I was there (it looks like they have marble floors). I love how much its grown.
Still, many of the amenities and purpose of the training remain the same. Their website states:
“The life at our Yoga ashram is simple and focused only on the teachings and your spiritual growth rather than on the comforts of daily life. It is important to understand that an ashram is minimalist in facilities and does not offer luxuries like a hotel. It is only suitable for those who wish to experience the yogic lifestyle and focus on self-reflection and growth.
The Arhanta Yoga Ashram India is the perfect place to follow a spiritual practice. It provides a peaceful, serene, and secluded environment where you can focus entirely on your personal, spiritual growth and learning experience. The quiet and peaceful environment gives you the chance to renounce your material dependencies and to bring your focus within. At the same time, it allows you to connect with the beautiful nature around you, experiencing a deep connection with the creation. The secluded and beautiful location promotes clarity and self-reflection and helps you to go deeper into your yoga and meditation practice.”
I highly recommend their in-person (post-Corona virus) or online training courses for those who wish to experience simple living and a wealth of knowledge. Click here to learn more.
Click here to read Part 1 of Experiencing India: Sex Trafficking & Gypsy Children.
