Maher, Heroes, See You Later Alligators

Maher means "mother's house" in Marathi, and is a destitute women's and children's shelter outside of Pune. Run by nuns, they have about 20 houses in villages throughout Maharashtra. It's mostly Indians helping Indians.

Since Maher helps out battered women and the like, it is still somewhat controversial in male-dominant rural India. I met one social worker, an Indian father of 2, who was beaten -his life threatened by the local villagers. His reaction was he'd rather die than leave, and 10 year's later, Maher is a mostly accepted Marathi institution. This guy is a hero.

There's about 100 heroes here, all under the radar. It was also great to see my friends (2 angels from God-knows-what planet) just doing their thing every day, loving the kids, helping however they can. 2 more heroes.

In about 40 hours I'll be home, probably staggering around Ralph's wondering what the f--- just happened. I've been thinking how best to sum up my experience here and I realized it's impossible, so instead I'll just thank you again for reading and indulging me, and leave you with a quote I picked up in the ether. So, thank you.

"Money doesn't buy happiness until you give it away, and real heroes do their job while no one's looking."

Thank you India,
yt

Like I said, "No Gurus, No Banyans!"

So, just like I said I would NOT do in my last post, I met a full-on Guru and sat under a 600 year-old Banyan tree last week. Too funny. Swami Nitiyananda has a huge following, like 1.2 million "disciples", and he actually sat with our LA yoga group and answered questions which was really cool of him.

He's a new-school guru that uses all modern technologies to convey his message of "unclutching" to the masses. He's like 30 years old, and I saw him as a quite intelligent and very savvy business guy that happened to have sat in a cave for several years. Enlightened in many ways.

Today, I sit in here in Pune on the last leg of my voyage. Both Bangalore and Pune are quite impressive with respect to Western measures of growth and progress. I was quite happy in seeing that. In about a week's time I will be home. Just have 2 more things to do: 1) meet with 2 friends doing amazing humanitarian work in a village in Maharashtra and 2) buy a harmonium.

Much Love,
yt

Nirvana School, Yoga and Such

A 4 year old girl round-housed me in the groin yesterday marking my last week at the School. Other than that little anecdote, I'm beginning to feel that my time spent here www.nirvanaschool.org is kind of private. Suffice it to say that it was one of the miracles of my (not so) young life and I am forever grateful to Vinu Masi and the children for allowing me to spend some time here.

Tomorrow, I bus to Bangalore for yet another LA yoga retreat -for symmetry. As difficult as this journey has been, the thousand acts of letting go it entailed, I am constantly being presented with material evidence of it's perfection.

Such that my India voyage began with a bunch of LA yogis, so it will also end, albeit totally unplanned. The space between seems like a lifetime. The space between WAS a small lifetime -mostly difficult, scary, arduous, even tedious and boring at times, yet also ecstatic, ridiculous, blissful and hysterically funny.

I didn't come here to "find myself", or find a guru, or to sit under a banyan tree. I came here to right some Accounts, so to speak, to balance out some credits and debits. Of course, the journey is ongoing, but I could leave here today feeling complete.

Lucky me though, I get to go see my teacher and friends in Bangalore first, then a bit of time in Pune to visit some old, new friends, and finally Bombay to LA baby. I keep saying this, but I'm the luckiest dude in the world. Om Namah Shivaya.

Gratitude Attitude,
yt

Indian Love Letter

How do I reconcile my sometimes utter disgust with India, with the fact that I am having the greatest time of my life. . .???

I've had a fun time on this board ripping certain aspects of Indian life, and my rippings were always authentic, as in I was authentically disgusted. However, I'm kind of done with all that now. I mean there it is, I just can't trash a place that has in 11 weeks given me 11 years worth of love: unconditional, familial, brotherly, self, romantic, and any other kind of love I can think of.

I've been witness to many amazing people doing God's work here. Instead of going to Cancun 3x in a row like I did, I see college kids coming here and working at schools, hospitals or battered women's shelters. I see retirees coming here, going direct into the village and literally saving lives with their retirement savings. I see Indian small business owners working diligently through insane government corruption.

I see social entrepreneurs doing the seemingly possible, until you find that it's impossible (This sentence makes sense if you've been here). I see Indian women outworking everyone in the least functional clothing ever made -the sari. I see all kinds of Westerners, all over the place helping out, finding true enlightenment in the village, not in the ashram.

I hated India in November. In December it became tolerable. And January was the best start of a year I've ever had. It has never been easy, even now, but maybe that's the reconciliation. After leaving my job and just trying to make my life easy for a while, maybe I need a bit of challenge in my life to keep things interesting.

So, I can't believe I'm saying this but. . .

India, I love you.

Holy Sh-t.

-yt

"Indian Water Park" or "Dead Dog"

The Indian Water Park was awesome. All women in full clothing (saris) in the wave pool, all men with shorts and tee-shirts, all kids nude. The water slides were top shelf. Not in a million years would they pass inspection in the US, so they rocked. I'm sure someone, at some point, has or will rocket-ship off the lip propelling themselves 100 ft through the air, hopefully in the direction of the pool.

The rides were even better. When the door fell off one of them midway, they stopped the ride, pulled the crying kid off, and then let us finish. The roller coaster I can only describe as boring yet somehow physically painful. The best part of all the rides was you were in complete control of your safety bar. If you decided you didn't need it, and who really does these days, you could go bareback. . .

It was so authentic though, and so family-oriented. And the food at the canteen was the best ever -family style, 2 kinds of rice. It was hot as India, so clothes on in the pool -none of us cared, plus we were the only Westerners, so much respek to the IWP.

On a lighter note: I had a little white puppy that I was taking care of at night in my cement block. He was beaten I believe, and had a tough life during the day. But I was feeding it and trying to train it a bit when I got home late at night. He urinated on the floor as I fed him, so that's something, right??

Anyway, while I was at school the other day he go hit by a car for the second time, and it was over. Life is cheap here, and dogs are treated like rats or cockroaches (which I also live with).

The woman and her daughter who had been caring for it were crushed. That said, cute puppies are not a priority here. I'm not sure how I feel about it right now. I mean of course I'm very sad, and also mad, and yet also just accepting of it. You're frame of reference completely shifts here.

Been kind of sick again, and lost my voice for the first time yesterday. It was fantastic. I gave my best yoga class ever. Just shut-up and practice. Time is flying, what with the Thunderbolt and all that. So yeah, I'm having the time of my life.

More Love Than Ever,
yt

Wild Peeing or "I'm From Holland, Where da F--- You From?"

I'm now full-on living in the village in a 200 rupee ($5) cement block room including breakfast and laundry. I am able to urinate freely -which is priceless. I can pee directly out my door, or wander the fields, or pee in the backyard. I can even pee on my neighbor's house.

Prior to that, I had moved out of my city squalor, into the www.amaidi.org guesthouse with 5 girls from Holland. Dutch girls are here in full force. I really have no explanation why, nor do I need one. I'm gonna marry one of the girls in a couple years. I'll be 35, she'll be 21. Our maturities will be equal.

We had an Indian style fender bender, 3 of us on a scooter wipe out. Fortunately, I was on the very back and landed on top of 2 girls. These girls are tough. It's hard enough being a guy in India, but women are harassed nonstop. I'm completely blown away by their courage, not to mention the fact that they are also volunteers. Off the charts.

We're still at Nirvana School, about another month for me. I'm developing relationships with the kids and they continue to rock my world with their unending enthusiasm and unconditional love and appreciation.

I'm about the luckiest guy in the world.

-yt

Vipassana

I arrived at ashram mid-cyclone. The road was flooded and my rickshaw would go no further, so I rolled up my trousers and started across the small river that had formed over the dirt road.

About half way, my left flip-flop was dislodged and headed down stream. "F---!!" I whispered. . . out loud. . . meditatively. I had no other shoes. So I trudged through the mud with my right flip-flop intact, left foot bare. It was my first act of letting go. . .letting go of the left flip-flop.

Vipassana is based on the Buddhist philosophy of "knowing" as in knowing in the body after intense practice. There's NO blind faith, NOR any ritual type bullsh--. And there's also NO blissed out, ecstatic, rays of light. . . at least not for me.

It's about being with what is (which is usually excruciating pain in your legs) and not reacting to it. Acting with equanimity -neither averse to pain, nor craving pleasure. It's about the laws of the universe such as impermanence and suffering via attachment, and understanding them in your body, not just your mind.

You feel an itch on your nose, and you sit still and let it dissipate, you feel two lightning bolts charge down your hamstrings and you're really hoping it passes away too, and guess what..??

It f---ing DOESN'T!!

But. . . it becomes less severe, and you can feel the waves of pain and of lesser pain vibrating through your body -just like the string theorists tell us. But it is not an intellectual exercise. It is embodiment -the difference between reading a book on baseball and taking 100,000 swings off live pitching.

It is also not all that fun. It's kind of like prison but with no talking, no eye contact, no reading, no writing, no cigarettes, and no gang rape, just 10+ hours of sitting meditation starting at the 4:00 AM bell and ending at 9:00 PM.

You have breaks of course, where you eat silently like monks from steel bowls, and walk the grounds like a mental patient. Because, quite frankly, for 10 days you are a monk and you are mental patient.

So would I recommend it. . .?

Absolutely, it will change you life. I realized this after making the trek back to Pondi, 3 hours by Indian bus and rickshaw. . .

Barefoot.

It was my last act of letting go. . . the right flip-flop.

Anicca, Anicca,
yt