A STORY OF INDIA

There are sometimes periods or moments in a lifetime that bring accelerated growth, often resulting in a profound shift in perception and perspective. I anticipated insight and inspiration when I finally embarked on a journey to India, but what I received has fundamentally changed me.

I suspect that this happens to a great many visitors to this magical place, because how could it not? India, you have touched my heart.

There is a lot of expectation and anticipation that builds when you spend many hours travelling. Two flight connections and a 4-hour road trip finally brought us to Agra where our hotel, true to Indian expectation, was located in an alley next to a pile of dogs sleeping in the dirt. (By the way, everything that you thought you knew about traffic in big Indian cities such as Delhi, is under stated. It is utter, unadulterated chaos.)

After so much sitting, yoga was first priority when we arrived. Our yoga teacher was a local doctor, who took us to a little park behind his house for a yoga class. The park was home to some beautiful parakeets nesting in an old temple of sort. And as if on cue, true Indian dance tunes start belting out through mega-watt speakers at a nearby event as soon as we start practicing!

The darker it got though, the more mosquitos joined the yoga party until they became quite unbearable. We were then promptly uplifted and moved to a little studio beneath the good doctor’s house where a couple of dancers were kicked out for us to use the space. Yoga finished, photoshoot with locals completed, we asked the dancers to teach us some "Bollywood" moves. And then, there in a small basement-studio in Agra, all happy-Bollywood-hell broke loose as we danced and laughed in wild abandon.

Early morning start the next day to get to the Taj Mahal by sunrise, but the sheer volume of humans at this world-wonder just couldn’t make that a reality. Make no mistake, the Taj Mahal is breathtakingly spectacular, every bit as beautiful as what you imagine it to be, but there is a feeling of sadness there for me. Perhaps it is because of the sad loss that triggered its construction, but I look at this monument of spectacular proportions, exquisite craft and blinding white marble and I can’t help but wonder how the poverty-stricken population felt about such vast sums of money being spent on a shrine, a grave, for one person? I guess that on some level it has, eventually, brought prosperity to these people from the sheer volume of tourism it generates…

Long drive back to Delhi, a connecting flight to Amritsar, and 9 of us on a tuk-tuk through traffic brought us to the next fabled attraction in our journey, the Golden Temple of Amritsar. The temple houses the sacred text of the Sikh religion, a book that was compiled by the last living guru as the definitive word in the absence of a successor. The temple is in the middle of a lake, creating the illusion of floating on water. Thousands upon thousands of pilgrims come to pay homage at the temple, many of them sleeping in the surrounding structure overnight as part of their pilgrimage ritual. Here is where the world’s largest communal kitchen serves a free meal to over 100,000 people each day. There are massive pots cooking lentils, rice and potatoes raised over wood-burning fires that are stoked day and night. Chapati breads are made by the thousands on continuous production lines and are buttered by hand before being served in the dining halls. The spaces where the food is prepared are derelict, resembling unfinished construction sites that are filthy and dark, yet the food is prepared with such loving kindness by Sikh religious volunteers.

The pace of our trip changes when we start our journey by car from Amritsar to Dharamshala and the fabled Indian traffic takes on a whole new dimension when we wind our way on single-lane roads through the mountain passes. At times it felt as if we were dangling off the side of a cliff while busses, motorbikes, cows, dogs and taxis maneuver on these roads. As the landscape changed, so did the culture and pace of India. Dharamshala feels like a country removed from India, largely due to the population of Tibetan refugees that have settled in an area known as McLeod Ganj on the hilltop above the city.

Here, under the snow-capped majestic Himalayas, the Tibetans have recreated a little of their beloved home country. They have built temples, institutions, schools and monasteries to keep their culture alive and thriving in the hope that they can some day return to Tibet. The Dalai Lama, the Tibetan spiritual leader, lives here in Dharamshala, adjacent to the main temple, Namgyal Monastery.

Spending time in this hillside haven leaves me in awe of these people and how they are so deeply connected to their culture, each other and the nature of everything. They are humble, kind, peaceful people who continue to practice and teach their culture and religion with vigour and conviction. We have so much to learn about compassion, tolerance and forgiveness in a world gone mad with violence and anger.

Around the main temple complex is a footpath called the Lingor Kora (kora is a Tibetan word describing circumambulation around a sacred object), a meditation walk filled with prayer wheels and prayer flags all along the way. The colours of the Tibetan prayer flags represent each of the 5 elements. Red = Fire, Blue = Air, Yellow = Earth, Green = water, White = ether (space). They are infused with prayers for the happiness, freedom and wellbeing of others and are strung in the wind for the prayers to be carried far and wide. Along the kora many Tibetans walk throughout the day clutching their mala beads and mumbling the mantra “om mani padme hum”, the mantra of compassion.

We were fortunate to visit many beautiful and significant places in and around Dharamshala, all created to preserve and further develop Tibetan art, culture and religion. One of the highlights was being in the Karmapa Lama’s temple during their morning prayer ceremony while the monks all chanted together. We were tucked away to the side of the temple observing, but were invited and to share their bread and tea, which was such a touching gesture expressing their deep alignment with kindness.

We had the opportunity to meet many prominent Tibetans who we could learn from and have conversations with, to cultivate a deeper understanding of the teachings of compassion, mindfulness and meditation. Teachers, scholars, philosophy academics and monks, some of who had escaped imprisonment and torture in Tibet under Chinese occupation.

And then there was Dr. Tenzin Dolha, a Tibetan healer. I first met Dr. Dolha when I arrived for a Tibetan singing bowl healing session (which was a profound experience). At our first consultation I became intrigued with a Tibetan breathing meditation and asked him to teach me more. He refused at first, but after visiting him a few more times he relented and taught me a sequence of breath and movement techniques that have roots in Bon, the ancient religion practiced in Tibet before the introduction of Buddhism. In the years following my visit with Dr. Dolha I meandered down a path of research and learning about these fascinating practices and had the honour of deeper learning with another teacher, Dr. Chok Tenzin Monlam, online during 2020.

The pinnacle of this journey was the totally unexpected, most touching blessing of being granted an audience with His Holiness, the Dalai Lama.

It was quite a process of security clearance, searches and scans before we stood waiting in the line leading up to his residence, and I was struck by the calm, quiet kindness with which each visitor was treated. There must have been over 200 people in the line to see the Dalai Lama yet every single person was peaceful and patient, which spills over into one’s own experience and emotion.

I somehow found myself in the right position to walk up and hold his hand while our group was huddled in quick conversation around him. When he learned that we were South African, he spoke with such tenderness about his dear friend, the Archbishop Desmond Tutu, with whom he published "The Book of Joy". With his mischievous sense of humour he said “If Bishop Tutu dies, he will go to God in heaven and when I die, I will go somewhere else”

The entire experience is completely surreal, but for me there was so much contained in those few moments:

His presence is profound and his compassion is palpable

He makes eye contact with each and every person he greets, making a meaningful human connection with each individual

He feels physically soft, which exudes the softness of kindness, but his grip on my hand was strong, with strength and intention

Kindness is always the answer, no matter what the circumstance

The treasured experiences I received on this adventure has shaped the way I show up in the world, how I show up as a teacher and how we raise our children to be kind, compassionate humans. I learned so much on this journey about myself, my relationship to others, about our common human connections and so much more. A journey of discovery in so many ways and one that I will cherish and share for ever.