Took an early morning walk around Rishikesh. Walked down to the lip of the Ganges and saw people bathing and purifying themselves in what is not known as the world’s cleanest body of water. India has logic of its own. By the logic of the United States, it is irrational. But irrationality is often a tag put on situations we don’t understand. In Delhi and on the road to Rishikesh, you see half-finished buildings, half-finished roads, and half-finished bridges. It offends western sensibilities to leave anything unfinished, but it’s very yogic. Everyone is only halfway there. It reminds me of poem by Robert Frost that stated something like: “There are no beginnings and ends: only middles.” (From memory, so pardon me if I messed up the quote).
Have decided to sample as many yoga studios as possible in Rishikesh. This is something I need that cannot be given to me in a care package from another person or organization, but must be sought and sanctified by me. This may be the radical spirit within or I merely have a bad case of American individualism. To others, it is irrational not to stay with the program. I am not looking to be validated by so-called certification. I may not be doing anything as cool as realizing “the Supreme as the Soundless” as it says in the Amrita-Bindhu-Upanishad, but I am at least tuning out some of the drivel in order to discover my little corner of the universe, which is my limited and brief perspective of what may or may not be reality.
We went to Beatles ashram in the afternoon. Something I wanted to do. Amazing. Nobody lives there anymore. It’s a compound with cool meditation huts on the ground and above. For one, you have to climb up a ladder on the roof about 75 feet off the ground and there’s some kind of small room at the top of the cone-shaped structure. A few people went up and in, but I watched from below. There was also a cool room where the Beatles did art back in the day and on the walls were paintings of the group and their entourage (including the Maharishi) done by contemporary artists. I got a photo by who would have been my BFF, the Maharishi. We walked back in the dark and I got everyone lost after boldly asserting that I knew the Way.