ashram life in mother india.

'Meditation allows you to still the mind, look at it objectively, and see which of the mental contents are useful and which are not. By watching the modifications of the mind and by looking at their source, you can clearly see what kind of impressions have been depositied in to you're mind field'

It is 6.30 and the sun is just starting to come up. The beautiful Indian Pranayama teacher is sharing his wisdom from the ancient traditions of Indian yoga. He lives an ashram life and his whole being glows and lights up the room. I am humbled and equally tired as I peal myself out of bed each morning, transcending my fierce resistance to alarm clocks in order to meditate to the mountains and allow the sun to rise and glow through the window panes reflecting off my plain weary face.

Here I am in the inspiring town of Rishikesh, India. The home and mecca for all things yoga. Where spiritual seekers have been traveling to for many years on their transcendental journeys and devotional pilgrimages. It was common and still is for many men here, once they'd served their duty as a householder, husband and father, to renounce their material possessions in order to achieve higher levels of spirituality and consciousness here. Babas (hindu for 'innocent'), the spiritual men, donne their bright orange loin cloths and walk around barefoot asking for alms.  So there's a mysterious energy in the air, uplifting and almost tangible one can taste the nectar of liberation as one gazes meditatively on the infamous Ganga that washes through the valley.

While India has a way of lifting the spirit so high one hardly touches the ground, she can also take you to the dark depths of your soul. It could be the gruelling schedule I have of 6am meditation followed by an hour and a half of Ashtanga before breakfast, that and the pouring of salt water through my nostrils, lack of sugar in my diet or the tangible distance I have from my nearest and dearest, I don't know, but the emotions have been riding high and I am learning to watch and breathe through them and ground in the routine here. Cultivating a practice the yogis call compassion and understanding while watching how this process takes one a little deeper, moves the inner world to bring up to the surface what impressions are ready to be felt, accepted and surrendered.

Seeing the dogs on the street hungry and uncared for really upset me; it was a challenge not to get entangled. I have found taking action a way of channelling this upset in to something more hopeful. Hence the other day a friend and I were feeding a little street puppy biscuits and leaving some with the local shopkeeper to take care of the innocent little life. And then there is the begging and the dirt that one encounters when walking through market towns in India. A poor old man without limbs who looked like he was just waiting to die broke my heart. I give what and when I can but well, it's challenging to see on our planet. Sometimes I think we don't know how lucky we are.

Then as I am all too familiar with in this country, there is of course India's magical gift of inspiration and awe. The light on the river at sunset glows rays of pinks and golds. Poetry flows through me with a hint of romantic tenderness. The Himalayan air is so crisp and clear. And I love the food and the opportunity to get tactile with it, dipping my finger tips in to touch each morsel before it reaches my mouth. Only with my right hand though. Left hand is exclusively for nether regions post squat  so I am training myself not to touch my face with it in front of Indians. Unless I want to be naughty. Then I lick my left hand fingers, ha!

The beauty of living in an ashram is that there is routine, discipline and seclusion. Morning meditation one watches the sunrise and my classes are filled with so much insight and challenge. I chose to do a yoga teacher training course because I felt ready. Life on the road has been very much supported by a meditation and yoga practice. For a while I felt like I had broken up with yoga, reluctant to get on my mat, resistant to my own practice and stuck in old patterns. It took some gritty gruelling times and a lot of self care to humbly step back in to a committed practice and being at an ashram practicing twice daily certainly empowered me to dive a little deeper in to the ancient healing art form.

I feel endlessly humbled and try to remember that this is a practice and not to compare where I am in my downward dog to others. One sometimes forgets to appreciate how far they have come. Sometimes it has been self-limiting beliefs that have entrapped and yoga certainly teaches me to gentle move beyond. My philosophy teacher is also a psychologist, which I love relating to and the lofty spiritual concepts can ground in science - to some extent - and understanding. Beyond theory I am getting my backside worked of course. Bridges, head stands, sweaty salutations to the sun and the moon. I am taller folks! I feel like I have extended by an inch which serves me well as such a pocket size person.

Last Friday we had bhajans, recited mantras sang from the heart with lots of clapping and dancing. You know the ones? Those skin-headed dudes you will see in gowns on the underground chanting away. The teacher said to us "This is a time for you and God, to express your love completely unafraid" so I donned my bright pink sparkly sari and danced full throttle, I even pulled out the funky chicken and some break dancing moves which weren't so sari friendly but it was nevertheless ecstatic and joyous.

The group here are from around the world and life here could easily become a spiritual sitcom with various characters and expressions. We have got the proverbial die hard seeker who has read every spiritual teaching going, blended them, confused himself and is desperate to meet his guru to achieve enlightenment. The shanti chic who lives in Hollywood and all she owns is a bed (I really dig this girl actually), a few off the wall types buzzing in another dimension that they seem to only glare at you as they download a plethora of information which speaking English requires too much energy so they float on by, there is an awesome shamanic lesbian called Mia who burned spots on my leg the other day, doused the wound with frog poison (Kambo) which made my face swell up and my insides release everything within it. I was ready for it but am in no hurry to medicate myself again with this ancient indigenous concoction - although it did cure my cold (dear parents thank you for being so open minded). There is a lovely man from Bolivia who described jumping in to the river 'like taking a chocolate' in his latin accent which made our hearts melt. Soft reserved types, open hearted and playful types, crazy spiritual and grounded and real. So far just sitting and chatting with people here has been one of the most interesting highlights and in our togetherness we grow.

And then there is my roomie. Chloe Barber. My notorious rival at school and the only person besides my brother I have had a physical fight with only to be peaced out with an offering of conkers and marbles. We were 10 after all. I love that The Universe has reunited us here of all places. She is a cool London lady now, classy and elegant with a hilariously provocative sense of humour. 'I am so hungry, I could eat a cow' she said as we walked in to the dining hall the other day. Cows are holy in India. People just don't eat cows. I am really happy to have her company here and she keeps me in check and not too away with the fairies. As much as I love them.

And so that is me folks. A month of yoga teacher training in an ashram of the Himalayas loving life and all its textures while growing, laughing and healing along the way. I will continue to share my yoga practices with friends and family, perhaps over time more and more to the wider community as I nurture the inner Buddha and slowly master an asana or two.

Hari Ommmmmmsssss

prayer flags and big dreams in the mountains

When Steph and I went to the Everest region of Nepal in 2011, we had anticipated to trek to Everest Basecamp in order to raise donations for WWF Tiger Conservation. Instead however, we found ourselves at 4000m being lead to the Golden Jubilee of Sir Edmund Hillary's first school in the region where children from schools all over Nepal performed cultural dances and songs, along with traditional Sherpa and Tibetan Buddhist ceremonies. We met incredibly inspiring people who had been dedicating their lives to creating change in poor areas of Nepal. It was incredibly heart warming and humbling.

After returning from the 3-week trip I found it very difficult to go back to my life in Sydney. Something had been stirred in me. Perhaps I missed the quiet of the mountains. Before I had chance to realise what was happening, my boyfriend and I had broken up, I'd moved out and was asking myself some big questions about what it was I truly wanted. I was positive. Full of enthusiasm and trying new things; recipes, experiences, cycling my bike around Sydney and getting on with my job. But I realised that the taste for travel had left its mark and my spirit wanted some more adventures. It took one late night conversation with my good friend and notorious optimist Fern to convince myself to leave my job, surrender my stuff, pack some bags and book flights to all the places I had wanted to visit for so long. It was pretty courageous and I get moments of "WTF Jess", however, I have the wonderful experiences that are a great reminder of how happy one can be with perceivably so little and adventure certainly ensures life is lived as fully as possible. From my perspective I do feel that society has created an illusion that 'money' can equate to happiness, abundance or even love. Not in my world. Gratitude, acceptance and giving have become a much more powerful currency of kindness and incredibly magical.

"But there's no doubt, either, that my most worthwhile things have been the building of schools and medical clinics. That has given me more satisfaction than a footprint on a mountain." 
- Sir Edmund Hillary

The Dream Flag project really inspired me to consider what good we can all do, even through the smallest of actions. Children from all around the world are asked what their dreams are and they illustrate these on to beautifully crafted flags and blown in the wind, as do the prayer flags on the mountains of Nepal. What do children want? Peace and love in the world. Steph and I were really fortunate to meet the founder Jeffery and learn of how the project has enriched and connected the lives of children from around the world with their dreams. I hope they all come true. This little video is a wee tribute to the project and my wonderful co-pilot Steph Reynard.

“The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest good intention.” ~Oscar Wilde

parvati, its not all about drugs.

Parvati valley, home of the Gods and the highest of India’s Holy Gangas is being poisoned.

“What would Shiva say?” was a question posed to students at Challal primary school as we sought to educate this next generation on the challenges their land faces in the name of progress. And a question you might wish to ask yourself also.

Without infrastructure to manage waste, an influx of tourists, guesthouses and plastic, the natural beauty of the Parvati Valley suffers. Poisonous waste has been thrown in to the precious rivers contaminating the purity of drinking water, the stomachs of grazing animals and the beauty of the valley. The future of these dramatic mountains is in the hands of India and yet in a time of economic growth, one might ask what does this say about the future of this nation?

If there is one thing I have learned about India; its where the heart lives and that is in and of its people to create change. A country that can’t have faith in its government. But can love and support its fellow man in the desperatist of times. And yet I see a familiar change on the horizon...

Coming from Britain, I have experienced the virtues of growing up in middle-class surroundings, living in a welfare state, getting a good education with high standards of living. Yet India spoke to my heart, she made me realise that we are not alone, the value of family, compassion and patience. And that we don’t need as much as society leads us to believe in order to be happy.

In England, we tend to have a mentality of ‘each man for himself’, we are separate from one another, don’t hold eye contact and our economy is maintained by the dark shadows that wonder through grey cold streets in London donning black suits climbing the ladders of perceived wealth. I love the sobering irony of having a nose in someone's armpit on the rush hour tube while avoiding any form of communication with one another at all cost.

"Money is the world's second God" A Himalayan Babaji explained to me. I've seen that in the West. How we buy. We buy. We buy. Blindly subscribing to the latest fashion, buying the latest gadget, believing the ideas that create an addicted nation through fear. But, don’t trust me, I also worked in advertising and in corporate finance :)

Kali Yuga, an old baba told me, is a time of draculas. Apparently that time is now. And what could be more symbolic than the life we suck out of mother nature around the world? Thankfully, in Britain, we can still turn a tap in the kitchen a drink clean water. We can shower with our eyes open and set the temperature to our skin’s comfort. We can walk the streets and not witness lines of degrading waste and smell the rotting garbage. And we can climb our comparatively feeble mountains and not find garbage that will live longer than we and our children stand to survive while polluting the rivers that flow through it.

But India, you are different. Where else in the world can a man wander the streets bare feet in a yellow robe and be offered alms? And you have such devotion to your Gods. How you demonstrate worship by making such sacrifices! The cues to make puja (prayer) in the temples would not last the patience of an Englishman. Your respect, devotion and faith inspired me. It inspired me, but, alas also let me down. Again I see the hypocrisy of man. You’ll pray to Sakti and in the same life carelessly throw poisons in to her land. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you" I was taught in school. How fear can make us lose our way.

The constant duality of devotion and destruction was hard for me to accept in Parvati Valley.

Parvati Valley was my home. I found myself roaming in the Himalayas, studying yoga and learning about survival amongst the beautiful people and wildlife that live there. And while I accept impermanence as a constant, in my heart I have faith that people might wake up and realise that if they really love God, then they might try, a little, to be inspired by the wonderful selfless idol they pray to daily and do something to protect Mother India’s land in his/her name.

Plastic takes over two centuries to degrade and with big companies such as Coca-Cola, Parle and Good Day increasingly residing in these mountains the land is being destroyed and the river, the life source, contaminated. Glass takes an Ice Age to degrade, burning plastic releases dangerous toxins in to the atmosphere which cause cancer and so the question needs to be asked – what can we do to protect prakrti (nature)? These substances are poisonous if they're not disposed of properly. And they say "Time is running out."

Unfortunately, in the holy mountains of India, too little is done.

Parvati Valley. Attempts to be more green.

A group of foreign volunteers organised clean ups along the riverside, on one occassion with the President and village Mayor we watched the transformation of the land as years of plastic and glass was dug out from the ground.

Caste pride had to be swallowed. I wondered whether caste pride was swallowed in the name of politics as I watched these honory members in the community. I respect the caste system of India but personally, I don’t see truth when it instils pride, judgement and discontentment to the extent where one cannot pick up a piece of mindlessly discarded plastic without feeling shame. Creating an illusion of separateness.

One day I shook the hand of a small child and gave her an apple; on-lookers were agasp. She was a ‘rag-picker’, akin to the young boys of Slumdog Millionaire, collecting plastic in exchange for rupees, essentially removing recycleable waste left to decompose and damage the land and yet in the eyes of the villagers watching, she was filth and whatsmore untouchable. In my eyes; she was an angel. At least someone was respecting mother nature even if it was unconsciously; in order to survive.

Drugs, deaths and dramas.

As the rave party season hit Kasol, Parvatti Valley, many of India’s youth from Delhi and Mumbai headed to the mountains to dance under the sky, enjoy the gushing sound of rivers and move to musical trance beats.

This year a darkness swept over the valley as chemical drugs, a rape case and deaths saw dramas unfold in the village of Kasol – Parvati was not amused and neither were the locals.

This infamous music scene of India that has the propensity to bring like minded hearts and souls in to ‘Oneness’ under the stunning backdrop of the Himalayas drew a different kind of attention. Parvati valley came under the spotlight. Media quizzed police narcotic superintendents, police stop and searches all perpetuated an image that Parvati is a valley of darkness, for drug barons and young people to dance with the devil.

It was dark believe me. I was there. Having been there in the low season thawing my finger tips in the belated winter snows - I witnessed this 'darkside' approach the valley. People I knew became paranoid. Locals became uncomfortable. Tourists scarpered.

And so one of the biggest experiences for me on my travels was living in Parvati Valley, Himachal Pradesh, India. I saw the law of cause and affect quite clearly. I saw the corruption and materialistic mindedness that slowly works its way through remote India and of course, I saw, smelled and listened to a LOT of absolute garbage while witnessing its destructive impact upon India's holy Himalayas.

Indian people ask me “Where’s your country?”
“Everywhere and nowhere” I respond. I get a smile.

“Who are you working for?” watching as I colour in another "Nature is God" sign.

“Nature” I respond.

“Where’s your husband?” I am asked. I am nearing 28 afterall.

“Shiva is my husband” I say and I get a laugh, a nod and a knowing smile.

When I looked at the world from afar, I realised how short life really is. And there’s a love I have for those big giant hills that speak to the wind and brush the clouds. Nature was my teacher and I was put to work. Although if I am honest, all I really did was listen to my heart; something that I was forced to do when I left life in Australia.

As for Parvati Valley. Well that place is certainly not all about drugs. While apparently the best hash comes from there and the turbulent chemical romance takes place during the festive season, it has much much more to it than meets the eye. India's Hindu God Shiva lived there, with his wife Parvati, and I can understand why. They weren't just good dancers...

While we might live in times of vampires, of ego, war and destruction, we also live in a time of constant change. We have our own way of learning. Mine evidently was cleaning garbage. On the inside I did much more. 

“Be the change you want to see in the world” said Gandhi. 

Realising that we all share responsibility whether we want to live in a Western individualised  money orientated existence and take the weight of the world on our own shoulders or whether we share it with our family, community and pray to a temple. We all are a part of the whole. 

Meanwhile mother nature, the hand that feeds us, is getting bitten... least we can do is show her some respect especially in the land of the Gods.

a journey to the mountains

 

Recently I decided to go to Nepal and trek the Himalayas to raise funds and awareness for WWF's Tiger Conservation. Why? It was on the bucket list. Along with seeing polar bears in the wild, running a marathon and writing a children's book, trekking the Himalayas was a wish I have wanted to fulfil for a big part of my life and I was fortunate enough to recently do so.

Myself and best friend (and musician) Stephanie Reynard embarked on this adventure together. We collectively raised over $3000 as we set to embark on a journey to Everest Basecamp (which we funded ourselves of course). Now having returned I can tell you that we actually didn't make it to Basecamp. Not because we weren't fit enough, neither because we were lazy, in fact practically it would've been achievable - albeit challenging no doubt - however our venture was side tracked along the way. The story is a long one but I can give you some highlights and share some videos of the incredible journey we went on nevertheless.

1. Kathmandu. Its crazy. Like many Asian capital's the relentless traffic, people and movement create chaos amongst its streets. That said the place had charm. Arriving there reaffirmed to us that we were a long way from home and offered us some beautiful opportunities to immerse ourselves in the Buddhist temple rituals such as pilgrimages, purchase some souvenirs and get tattoos (shhh don't tell mum).
2. The mountains. Sure that's a given but what is so incredible about the mountains is the scale. One leaves ego at the airport upon arriving at this vast expansive place. There's no way you can feel big in this remote area. Its amazing how flat Sydney feels now. Every corner we turned was met with a "Wow". Nature rules.
3. Mountaineering. Walking is under-rated. I used to think it a tad dull. Witnessing a culture that's primary mode of transport is merely a couple limbs to scale heights and travel distance, brings an appreciation for the innate ability to get by without any need for a vehicle. We trekked up to 7 hours a day at pretty steep climbs and it was pretty damn invigorating.
   For the first time in my life I didn't see a single car for 2 weeks. Imagine!
4. Sustainability. The Sherpa's live a life reliant on the elements. The winters are fierce. Access to water is challenging and energy is all dependant on renewable energy such as solar panels and hydro. Yak dung is dried and re-used to burn fires and human waste is used as manure (urm... that sounds horrid but it's actually very clever). 
5. Buddhist Philosophy. The Buddhist way of life is remnant in the practices of the people of these mountains. The Sherpa's come from the oldest sect of Tibetan Buddhism. Seeing how connected they are with the land and one another is humbling and equally grounding.
   We were fortunate to make really good friends with a kind monk from the Tengboche monastery and learn more about his life, beliefs and the world he is a part of. Sitting in an old monastery, meditating to the sound of monks chanting Sanskrit mantras is one of the most beautiful experiences I've ever had.
6. Children. The Nepalese children are a far cry from those I am so familiar with at home. While of course the cheekiness and playfulness is seen in most children, the respect for elders and their generosity was really surprising. Staying at a family lodge we saw 14 year old Sinam help his mother in the kitchen cooking, making tea and kindly showing us how to eat Nepali style (with our hands no less!). He was so happy and considerate. It was so moving to see a child with few needs and demands demonstrating such kindness.
   We were frequently given sweets by the children on the mountain and sometimes accompanied on the walk with kids working as porters along the trail.
7. Running at altitude. Instead of meeting Everest Basecamp, we chose to exert ourselves in a 9km Trail Run at 4000 metres at a local school's Jubilee. It took us over 3 hours to complete. We were the only foreign contestants. We pushed our bodies, heart rates and lungs to new found limits as we appreciated the challenge of minimal oxygen.  We got handshakes and high fives for the remainder of the trip so I imagine there was a degree of risk with the endeavour. It was a great accomplishment and certainly one I'll not forget.
8. Dancing in the rain with a couple of monks. I don't think I can explain this. It was incredible to party outside, listening to Shakira (Nepal loves Shakira!?), high on altitude and learning to Sherpa dance with a couple of kind monks from the Tengboche temple, Pasang and Mingma. With a grand stupa in the background, the rains of the imminent monsoon season and our big grins keeping our feet moving and hearts warm.
9. Sir Edmund Hillary & all he inspires. Rather than Basecamp we went to Khumjung School and hospital set up by Hillary 50 years ago for their Jubilee. There we met many inspiring people, those who had committed their lives to creating positive change and shared their stories with us, such as the founders of the Dream Flag Project, wife of Mingma Norbu Sherpa (a famous conservationist sponsored by Hillary) Phurba who now runs The Greater Himalayas Foundation in his memory, writer Frances Klatzel who helped to create a museum of Sherpa culture and has written many books on their beautiful culture, Dawa Steven Sherpa who is a WWF Climate Ambassador and many others involved with the Himalayan Trust that Hillary originally founded. The list is long but they all are worthy of a mention as they certainly brought a deeper layer to our experience.

Being back is very strange. Two weeks passed like a whirlwind and suddenly I am plunged back in to the life I left with a little more wisdom perhaps. 

There's no doubt we both learned a lot from the experience. Mindfulness. Respect for nature. Appreciation for the fortunate world we are a part of. Along with the practicalities of combatting blisters, altitude sickness and facing challenging climbs. I cannot recommend it enough.

Please feel free to enjoy some of videos of our escapade, I don't think they'll do it justice but they may provide some amusement.

More images here.
Flickr snaps here.
Itinerary & kit-list here.

Jess & Stephs' tips for trekkers



Kathmandu



Dramas at the airport



Insight in to our terrible sense of humour


High altitude running