Sunday meditators

22/01/2017

If you are a regular motorist, perhaps commuting to work by car, you might feel frustrated by ‘Sunday drivers’. They are not so used to driving and dawdle along with nothing to achieve and no place to go, slowing the rest of the traffic. Today I discovered that existence is maintaining a balance with the opposite phenomenon: Sunday meditators.

The morning meditation in the inner chamber of the Matrimandir, here at Auroville, is usually a profoundly silent affair. The attendees are mostly regulars, well used to sitting around with nothing to achieve and no place to go. On a Sunday morning, though, the chamber is packed with bloomin’ Sunday meditators. These people are accustomed to being busy and seem to be incapable of stillness or silence. One person will be swallowing repeatedly, another breathing loudly. Here and there someone will fidget. Worst of all, though, the place becomes full of thoughts, like there’s a tomorrow. What a cacophony!

do play with your food

10/01/2017

When I was a child, my mother would say “Don’t play with your food!” if she noticed me pushing food around on my plate. In England, one’s behaviour at the dinner table is expected to be reserved and rather formal, it would seem.

Here in India, things are different. It is normal to eat food not with cutlery but with the hands, the right hand to be more precise. And naturally, this process involves pushing food around, mixing vegetables with rice. The way the food is handled on the plate is reminiscent of an artist mixing colours on a palette. It is a gloriously messy affair.

In England, people see and smell and taste the food when eating. In India, people also feel the food. This physical contact adds another dimension to the sensory experience. We are feeling the texture of the food, its moistness and its warmth in our fingertips.

The best thing about eating with one’s hand, though, is that it encourages us to play with our food. And I have to say, Mum, that playing with the food of life makes for a very enjoyable day!

first sip of a morning

08/01/2017

In stark contrast to yesterday’s grumpy day, this morning I awoke in fine spirits. This was particularly evident as I took my first sip of chai for the day. It really hit the spot.

There is something about that first sip of tea of a morning. It is as if I am tasting the new day itself. In that moment, there is only the taste, magically melding with the soft morning light and enchanting my not-yet-busy-with-thoughts mind. For a moment at least, I am tasting life. And in that, there is an immense, serene joy.

grumpy day

07/01/2017

Here in Tiruvannamalai, many of us – myself included – tend to float around in a blissful state.

Today was different.  I have been grumpy all day long.

And what I have finally realised is that, once in a while, I really enjoy being grumpy!

troubled souls

26/12/2016

Sitting drinking chai this morning, I looked around and felt a troubled soul nearby. It is the greatest tragedy: that so many of us human beings are going through life with a troubled soul.

There is this amazing, wonderful, miracle that is existence. It is so rich, so diverse, so abundant. And each of us is a part of this mystery; a part of life.

Resonating fully with a tiny leaf bud at the tip of a twig at the end of a branch of a tree; watching it sway gently in the breeze, the heart swaying with it; there is nothing except a deep relaxation-gratitude-joy-letting-go-ah-yes, a feeling that all is as it should be.

And yet, it still feels strange and saddening that there are so many troubled souls forming part of all that is.

raw emotion

17/12/2016

I am in Munnar, in the Western Ghats of southern India, and I have just come from the covered fruit and vegetable market. Twelve years ago, on my first trip to India, I took this photo in that market. Today, as I walked amongst the fruit and veg, I remembered the photo. I remembered the exact spot where I took the picture; I remembered the soft light; I remembered the feeling of the moment.

Wandering around the market today, my whole being was filled with a raw emotional energy. It wasn’t a particular emotion: neither sadness nor happiness; not anger, nor elation. It felt like pure emotional energy, centred deep in the belly.

I often notice this feeling when I am in a place that feels timeless, where not much has changed in hundreds of years. And today that timeless feeling was enhanced by my own memory of the place, for not much had changed in the intervening years. The soft light was the same, the atmosphere in the market was the same; only this time, the light was falling on a row of bananas in that particular spot.