Within a few hours of having arrived at the ashram I had a strong impulse to run for the hills! It was not at all what I had expected. (some kind of Utopian scene, with enlightened beings blithely skipping around intertwining their lives like giant daisies in a chain of love and peace!). I didn't feel much warmth or generosity of spirit from any of the people running the joint. Doctrine, control and fanaticism were the order of the day it seemed............not to mention the vacant gaze of the ashram 'long stayers' who have become averse to the outside world! I obediently filed up to my dormitory room trying to keep an open mind!
On the second day, the morning bell rang, as usual, at 5:00am to rudely awaken us for our morning pilgrimages to the peak of the Neyyar Dam mountain range to watch the sunrise. We assembled in darkness at the ashram gates. Again, I resisted the instinct to bolt from what looked decidedly like a cult ritual that you might see in a half cut channel 5 documentary. I'm glad I didn't as it turned out to be beautiful.....soft Hindi music was played in the valley as the black sky gently faded to dusky blues and greens as dawn approached. Holy men were reverently paying homage to the Hindu shrines along the path. An hour later having reached the mountain top, the ancient Sanskrit chanting began. The sun rose as if conjured by the words of the mantra, sleepily sneaking up behind the reverent mountain peaks. At 8am, back at the ashram, the first two hour sivananda yoga class of the day commenced. I had a bit of a run in with the teacher (who happened to be the Ashram Director's wife - not a good person to get on the wrong side of!) over dress code. The ashram threw up something of a wardrobe dilemma - no tight or see through clothes allowed (fair enough) , shoulders and legs must be covered (Ok, Ok)........naturally I'm au fait with respecting local cultures, it just seems like something of a double standard that the ladies of the village can don a sari, that exposes their sensual bellies (much sexier than a run of the mill pair of shoulders wouldn't you say?). Thinking I would try and channel Jemima Khan in her Imran days, I ended up looking more like bob the builder in my baggy pants and sombre long sleeve shirts! (I know the ashram agenda is to eradicate ones ego and ascend to a higher plane of consciousness but I don't think I am ready for that just yet!) The two vegetarian meals of the day were served seated on reed mats on the floor in a large hall, scooping up lentils with your right hand and observing silence, (a pretty reliable way to kill the joy of communal eating!) A lecture at 2pm was followed by another 2 hour yoga session at 3:30pm. After the evening meal, my body traumatised by this staunch monastic regime after months of alcohol abuse felt pretty bloody awful and I was ready to hit the hay..........but no I had to attend the compulsory 8pm session of meditation and MORE chanting.
On the second day, the morning bell rang, as usual, at 5:00am to rudely awaken us for our morning pilgrimages to the peak of the Neyyar Dam mountain range to watch the sunrise. We assembled in darkness at the ashram gates. Again, I resisted the instinct to bolt from what looked decidedly like a cult ritual that you might see in a half cut channel 5 documentary. I'm glad I didn't as it turned out to be beautiful.....soft Hindi music was played in the valley as the black sky gently faded to dusky blues and greens as dawn approached. Holy men were reverently paying homage to the Hindu shrines along the path. An hour later having reached the mountain top, the ancient Sanskrit chanting began. The sun rose as if conjured by the words of the mantra, sleepily sneaking up behind the reverent mountain peaks. At 8am, back at the ashram, the first two hour sivananda yoga class of the day commenced. I had a bit of a run in with the teacher (who happened to be the Ashram Director's wife - not a good person to get on the wrong side of!) over dress code. The ashram threw up something of a wardrobe dilemma - no tight or see through clothes allowed (fair enough) , shoulders and legs must be covered (Ok, Ok)........naturally I'm au fait with respecting local cultures, it just seems like something of a double standard that the ladies of the village can don a sari, that exposes their sensual bellies (much sexier than a run of the mill pair of shoulders wouldn't you say?). Thinking I would try and channel Jemima Khan in her Imran days, I ended up looking more like bob the builder in my baggy pants and sombre long sleeve shirts! (I know the ashram agenda is to eradicate ones ego and ascend to a higher plane of consciousness but I don't think I am ready for that just yet!) The two vegetarian meals of the day were served seated on reed mats on the floor in a large hall, scooping up lentils with your right hand and observing silence, (a pretty reliable way to kill the joy of communal eating!) A lecture at 2pm was followed by another 2 hour yoga session at 3:30pm. After the evening meal, my body traumatised by this staunch monastic regime after months of alcohol abuse felt pretty bloody awful and I was ready to hit the hay..........but no I had to attend the compulsory 8pm session of meditation and MORE chanting.
Every day I had to talk myself into staying, but it did improve as time passed. Astonishingly I got used to the early rises, and definitely felt the benefit of the intensive yoga. It was also set in one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Luxuriating in the silvery waters of the peaceful lake was definitely a highlight. What I didn't find here was the pure, warm spiritual aspect I had hoped for. There were no truly inspirational figures - I'm sure when the founder and guru, Swami Sivananda was alive it would have been a different experience. The search continues...........!
HEY sista, loving your blog! Can't wait for the next installment on your journey!! xx
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