…are beautiful.
Archives for September 2012
MANI Prayer Wheel
Filled with thousands of Avalokiteshvara mantras, “Om Mani Padme Hum,” each turn of the wheel earns merit equal to one recitation of the mantras inside the wheel.
I love this. And this. And…
We have one day to ourselves before the yoga instructor training in India begins. A day to explore this new land that we find ourselves in. So what do we do? We hike through the hills to the waterfall and then to the various temples scattered up the mountainside. It’s glorious.
There are Tibetan prayer flags strung across the top of the falls. I love this. It’s perfect.
This bell was a part of the spiritual display, or offering, I love it too.
I have a feeling that I may find a million or so things to love while I am here.
a whole new world
Our first day in India was a somewhat challenging existence. We were driven around New Delhi and Delhi to see the sights a bit , do a bit of shopping, and pass time between flights. My eyes took in the light an sights with some resistance. After 23+ hours in the air, over a span of 1+ days, we had not yet arrived at our final destination. Our next flight was 8+ hours after landing in India.
By the time we did arrive in Dharamsala, I was wiped out. Our residence for the next week was an hour away by swiftly moving, horn honking car. Speeding through the winding hillside on a 1 land road forced into a 2 car roadway was intense to say the least. Thank God and Dr. Lee for my scopolamine patch.
We got situated a bit before heading out into town for dinner. I was a bit uneasy about proceeding as I didn’t have a rupee to my name. Thankfully, folks were agreeable to cover the cost for those of us who had yet to exchange our american dollars. We enjoyed hot chai tea and delicious soup before heading back by way of dim flashlight, dim headlamps, and the moon. Fortunately, there wasn’t a lot of cars, motorcycles, or cows on the road with us. It’s a whole new world and I’ve yet to adapt.
Book of the Dead
Notes from the plane:
One of the books on my teacher training reading list is Robert Thurman’s Tibetan Book of the Dead. Given our planned trip to Varanasi and the sacred river Ganges where people go to die, it makes sense. And yet…it’s too difficult to go back. I read the description of the spirit leaving the body for the between state and I can vividly see Tom dying all over again. Step by step, I’m transported back to view it all over again, vividly detailed and brutally accurate.
My thoughts go back to the final weeks of Tom’s life: morphine, rocking chairs, the Tao of Pooh, anger, chocolate chip cookies, and more. How could I know that today I would be here: struggling to find comfort amid all of the reawakened pain? How?
I read Thurman’s interpretation of the Tibetan view of the stages of death. They are vastly different from Kübler-Ross’ stages of death and dying. Denial, anger, acceptance, whatever. What does anyone know anyway?
We talked of past lives, reincarnation, karma, blah blah blah. In the end, we weren’t ready. Or at least I wasn’t. Sometimes I think Tom’s anger was at me for suddenly needing him. I didn’t want him to go out. It was supposed to be a year, damn it. Not weeks.
The fact that so much pain has been stimulated is telling for how much more there is for me to let go of and heal. After all, they say that Fall is a time of release, letting go, and preparing for new growth. Although I thought I’d done all this already, I suppose another look at my grief wouldn’t hurt. What do I have to lose?