Since this is the last weekend of the Mysore season, we dedicate this comic to those of you who are still in Mysore, packing up your trunks, visiting the Temple one more time, having your last Mysore dosa and practice in the Shala. We hope you enjoy this comic. Say goodbye to that amazing place for us too. Until next time…
Title: Mysore ride on family scooter.
Story: My kids' favorite part about living in India was getting to ride on the "family scooter". Sometimes we would drive to the swimming pool across town and pile on the scooter with all of our floaties, swimsuits, picnic basket, and change of clothes, and we would all manage to fit. What's more, sometimes we could drive across town, beeping and swerving around vehicles and animals, without stopping once! It was pure freedom. Wealth cannot be measured by the size and power of the 'Family Wagon'. It can be measured by the size and magnitude of the smiles on the passengers. Santosha (contentment) is one of the niyamas. It means the knowing the peace that is already inside, and, at the same time, feeling unity with something much greater than ourselves.
As the mind, so the man; bondage or liberation are in your own mind. (Mana eva manushyanam karanam bandha mokshayoho)
Santosha: "At some point we all think to ourselves 'I'd be happy if...' or 'I could practice if...' The truth is that there will always be something that we think is in our way and that if wait for that 'perfect' moment, chances are that it will never come.
The Niyama, Santosha, is about contentment. Seeing things with equanimity and finding the grace in our daily lives. In this way, each moment is a chance for yoga, a chance for liberation, whether we are on a beautiful mountain top or in a teensy cubicle. 'As the mind, so the man; bondage or liberation are in your own mind.'"
Where to start? How about where it ends or where it is right now. Right now I have just consumed a delicious home cooked western-style dinner at Santosha which is a local Canadian-owned restaurant. (Yes, I do eat.) I'm using the internet at my new house which I have just helped to stock with stuff to make us all a bit happier--bowls, shower squeegees, laundry cords, etc. We're all hippie, live-off-the-land types that appreciate a good granola and so have vowed to make an honest use of this kitchen. I'm listening to a mix of Indian music and political speeches coming in from outside. These sounds are all coming from the commotion around the various makeshift temples that have been built over the last week in honor of a very special Indian festival. Apparently, Mysore goes wild this week for the Hindu deities Ganesh and his mom Parvati.
A few weeks ago a friend told me why we see little elephants representing Ganesh on all the vehicles. "You see, Ganesh stickers and statuettes are there to remove obstacles". But I digress.
So everywhere this week are images of Ganesh in all sizes--from freakishly massive to teeny tiny. I've heard that many of them are made of materials that dissolve when submerged in liquid which is an answer to the baffled image I had in my mind of thousands of techni-colored elephants floating in various bodies of water around Mysore. (Part of the festival involves throwing Ganesh in the water.)
What else? Right now I am getting over a small cold (is it?) or maybe it is just a small case of back bending fever. Either way I'm tired and achy and irritable but this will pass. Just like the time. I've already been here for some time. I've already managed to not post for quite some time. It's funny how easily each day can pass into the other. Or how everyday I'm dancing on the line between avoiding myself and looking deeply into the mirror.
I'm practicing earlier and earlier and it is getting longer and longer and hopefully I'm getting stronger and stronger. Or something like that. After at least a month here you start to notice how everyone is doing the same stuff you just did. And after this second trip I'm seeing how I've forgotten how new things were last time around. And even as much as I thought I could slide back in, there is so much that is still shocking to bear. It is much like jumping into a body of cold water. I know it is water and I know it is fricking cold, but I don't really know how to dissolve until I'm up to my neck and dunking my head.
