Mysore impressions

I've been withholding my impressions of Mysore to see how they settle. Since I leave tomorrow, settled or not, here they are.

The neighborhood we are in, Gokallum, is wealthy. The homes are modern and there's much construction, so you have everything in the way of accommodation from where I'm staying (inside a 2-story home, hot water, Western toilet, bucket shower) to apartment buildings with underground garages and washer/dryers.

Many who come here only come here. "Deepening my practice," they say. I can and can't understand. While I couldn't claim to have a deep understanding of Indian culture, I'm interested in it because it begat this amazing practice. What I love about it here is the multiplicity of faiths and traditions; the inherent capacity to accept nonlinear, sometimes conflicting belief systems without disonance. There is still so much more I want to see, and though I've come to love practicing here, I need to move along.

My practice is as much off the mat as on, and life here is a kind of hippie-ghetto version of my actual life in NYC, only with a lot more talk about yoga. This engenders some terribly intimate conversation, which strikes me as if we're at some kind of 12-step recovery meeting only without the steps. Sadly that means no guidelines on sharing, or anything else. There's a lot of unnecessary conversation, which I've taken advantage of to develop my listening skills.

Then there's a lot of boy meeting girl. On the one hand it's been gratifying to watch, happy to know I'm uninterested in a flame. (By which I mean fling, except the word flame is more precise.) On the other hand it's made me realize how much more difficult it will be to find someone someday. I was very afraid and sad about this for a few hours until I realized I've been (mostly) happily on my own since my divorce. I do think you can grow more within an intimate relationship, but that doesn't mean you have to stagnate on your own. It's all a choice.

At first I was very put off by the American-ness of this place. People start lining up an hour before practice to get a "good" spot in a led class. There is elbowing and pushing, then a lot of overexertion on the mat. Some people practice in the toilet. Others in the hall. I was lucky because Raoul and I were next to each other from day one, and from then on he'd go and save me a spot. Today was the first led class I went to without him and I practiced in the ladies room, but it was wonderful. I felt at liberty to be more gentle with my practice, which is what my elbow demands, and consequently, it was great. But under the watchful eyes of Sharath and Saraswati, I didn't feel I could do that. They would yell. "Why you hurry?" "Lift up. Lift UP!" "Don't leave your leg." Then I saw others adapting in the led classes, and then we were back to self-practice. And so I understand my own deep need to fit in on yet another level, which completely softened my initial reaction. And now I'm sad to go.

There is no conference today and I'll miss tomorrow's. As I was leaving I saw Sharath and so got to say goodbye and thank you. He said, "three weeks not enough." Now, here's this man who works CONSTANTLY. He has HUNDREDS of students. And yet he's kept a watchful enough eye on my practice to see where I am in it, and talk to me about it in practice, and here he even remembers exactly how long I've been there. Again, I am blown away. Now, just like the people I thought were nuts when they first told me, I'm hoping to see him in NYC in April. Will I be back? Who knows.