Ma Gunga (the Ganges River), flowed right by our Himalayan Institute campus in Allahabad. Even if it is polluted, it is a beautiful river, and sacred to the Indian people. I can see why. Its current is serene, strong and steady. I can feel that connection within me, especially during my meditation time. I want to be serene, strong and steady. Traveling to the Sangam, or the confluence of the Gunga, the Yamuna (which flows to the Taj Mahal), and the mystical Sarasvati (which disappeared into the ground) rivers, is the spot where the drop of nectar from the gods fell. Although I did not dunk under, I did wade in, and I collected a tiny bottle of water to put on my altar. It is supposed to transform one and take away negative karma.
I am still processing and letting the trip work within me. My pilgrimage became a pilgrimage into myself, as, 2/3 of the way through the trip, I missed a step and fell hard on a marble floor, and was laid up for the rest of the trip. I missed the historic temples in Khajaraho, shopping in Khajaraho, and flying home on the same airplane as my Duluth friends. Instead I confronted many of my edges, my expectations, places my ego has held on to, as if they were who I really am. What was I to learn from this experience?
I know it happened because it was the best thing that could have happened to me. Plus, I was in an amazing and holy place, where the people and the grounds vibrated with sacred energy. I was held in this crucible of love and trust. Everyone was so loving and kind. I was even carried around, especially at first.
I am not my body, I am not my Parkinson's, I am not my memory, I am not my prowess, I am not my intelligence, I am not my accomplishments, I am not my failures. "The perfect infinite God is my true Self."
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