New Year Mountain Retreat

I had singled out this particular ashram because, from what I could gather from information I found on the internet, the emphasis here was very much on developing one's own personal sadhana (yoga practise/path) with a strong focus on connecting with, and drawing inspiration from, nature. The total opposite, in many ways, to Amma's mega-ashram, Tureya doesn't accommodate more than about 5 people at a time, and whilst I was there we were just three students and the two 'teachers'. The emphasis on deepening one's spiritual practise in direct connection with nature had strong appeal for me; I am not someone who takes naturally to worshipping gurus or deities (in fact it often makes me decidedly uncomfortable), but I can't help but be in love and awe with our beautiful natural world - with this, I am comfortable and instinctively at home. I was looking forward to a couple of weeks of yoga and contemplation in the peaceful mountains of Tamil Nadu, and to being supported in this by the resident swami who, as I understood it, was to personally guide me during my time here.

On arrival at the ashram, one can't help but be absorbed into the silent beauty of the place. Apparently its location here is because this particular site has had a longstanding spiritual resonance, and I absolutely agree that the whole place does have an energy all of its own. Situated in the hills 10 kilometres beyond the small hill station of Kodaikkanal, down a broken, windy road that is a terrifying drive even in a 4WD, it was the first place in India where I couldn't here horns, loudspeakers, the barking of innumerable dogs, bells, general shouting and chaos. Only the sounds of birds and the odd cow, goat or dog in amongst the wind and the trees rustling. Ahh, proper time out. The ashram used to be a collection of mud huts dotted around the enormous ashram territory; in fact I was under the impression that I would be, and was rather looking forward to, living a basic, old-fashioned lifestyle for a couple of weeks. Not so: apparently this would have to wait until later in my trip, as the ashram now has a brand spanking new building with marble floors and solar-powered showers (luke-warm water - such a luxury!). Even more luxurious still, with only three of us in residence, we each got a room of our own. Quite a change from Amritpuri, that's for sure.

From the start of my time there, I couldn't quite figure the place out. It's such a small, quiet affair, and the young American man who showed me to my room gave me the impression that the ashram was pretty laid-back and all activities mostly optional, although time would tell that actually there were a fair number of unwritten and unspoken rules (a more formal introduction to the 'dos' and 'don'ts' would have been truly helpful - I am more than happy to abide by rules when I am aware they exist). It turned out that he was one of the teachers, although he never introduced himself as such. The other was a young local lady, who seems to fit more into a day than one would think possible - teaching Tantric Philosophy (although the lectures were sadly, at best, rather adhoc), studying for her PhD in Tantric Philosophy at Madurai University, and doing all the cooking at the ashram - truly scrumptious. I thoroughly enjoyed the one lecture of hers that she gave in my five days there - for some unknown reason, they didn't take place on other days. From the beginning I didn't quite hit it off with the young American; possibly something to do with the fact that, although I tried to keep an open mind, I know I didn't come to India to learn introductory yoga from a defensive 24-year old from Denver who seemed more interested in proving himself right than sharing knowledge on yoga and life. Om. So I was relieved when we finally got to meet the man behind the ashram, Swami Tureyananda. I took an instant liking to him as he is friendly, approachable and seems to be caring. So that night he led our evening puja (not quite on the elaborate scale of those at Amma's but touching and engaging nonetheless) and then two of us had a private 'darshan' with him, where we sat there in the dark (there is no power in the ashram after sunset) while he proceded to 'look into our hearts' (apparently a gift given to him by his own guru). I was left feeling slightly baffled and not sure what to make of it. Some of what he said correlated closely with some of that said by the astrologer at Amritpuri (namely that stuff about me having fixed ideas about life), and he also had some very precise convictions about the physical and energetic state of my spine. On the more positive side, he said he deeply appreciated my honesty (I hadn't said anything). Tied in with these things which did seem to have some true resonance for me, was a fair amount of stuff that seemed like shot-in-the-dark guesswork, although I am happy to give him the benefit of the doubt and let time be a moreobjective judge than me. Afterwards, as we sat about waiting for dinner, I discovered that he is deeply interested in psychology, specifically yoga psychology, and is also passionate about music, to the extend that he is leading projects investigating the power and potential of music in treating psychological problems and diseases. He refers to this as 'music therapy' but it seems to be what I would more accurately term 'sound therapy', a literal investigation of certain pitches (played on an electronic piano....? - that most intrinsically beautiful of instruments.....?) and their effect on the various chakras and on emotional/psychological states. Needless to say, being so close to areas I have been fascinated by in the past, this certainly grabbed my attention, although I found it pretty hard to sustain a conversation due to his rather fixed ideas for his investigations which didn't leave much room for alternative takes on things or, come to think of it, 'conversation' in any conventional sense. From here he effortlessly diverted the chat onto one of his other great passions - cheesy Western love songs. Whereby I discovered that this Tamil Swami counts 'It Must Have Been Love,' 'The Wind Beneath My Wings' and countless other eighties favourites amongst the best songs of all time. It turns out that he spends his days of 'solitary silence' happily listening to playback of the cheesy classics of my youth on his mp3 player. A truly modern swami.

That night was a full moon. After dinner we sat by the campfire (a truly lovely part of the daily routine here) looking at its various faces. It definitely looks different here in india. Never before have I been so mesmerised by the old grandmother rocking away - but here she is truly dominant. That night the moon was so bright it literally had the most enormous glow around it - so much so that although I tried to take pictures they simply wouldn't focus. My friend and fellow-ashramite Shana had a bit more luck, and at some point (...I am trying, I can't figure the technology!...) I will post some of hers. Mesmerising.

The following night was the quietest New Year's Eve I have ever had. And I loved every minute of it. I spent the day involved in the usual pujas, hatha yoga practise and karma yoga, and also chanted the Gayatri Mantra 108 times, which was a first for me and truly quite an exercise in concentation. Though I know the words well, the familiar pianistic mind tricks rose again with avengence - not that anyone was watching (other than myself) or that it mattered particularly, but nonetheless the minute the thought 'you're going to forget the words' entered my head.....boom!....speechless...no words. Old habits die hard. Thank you, oh lovely Mind. But that night after another lovely campfire beneath a glittering Tamil Sky, I headed bedwards at about 10pm and when I woke it was 2010. On New Year's Day I took proper advantage of the beautiful hills for the first time, and went off to contemplate my Old and New Years amongst the sights and sounds of Nature. My fellow ashramites had managed to do this the previous day, in time for the start of 2010....so I, a true Palin and never one to be ahead of time, was doing it in sync with the start of 2010 (better late than never). I took some time to sit and meditate in the very mini mountain temple, and was thoroughly enjoying the silence and the energy of the place when it all came to a rather abrupt end as the young american came barking at me, ordering me to remove my shoes (I had overseen this seeing as I wasn't actually in the temple but perching on the outside of it and the only thing underfoot was mud. Nonetheless, I was happy to oblige, but suffice to say a rather more delicate awakening and request would have been appreciated). So I wandered further down the valley to where some immense slabs of rock broaden out and a stream pours over them. And here I sat until the sun began to set, thinking through the stuff of past,present and future and not coming to any particular conclusions, let alone resolutions. Sitting on this large rock in the mountains of Tamil I took the time to work through some of my more negative feelings (no matter how immense or how imperceptible) and to put into practise the wonderful things that are acceptance and forgiveness (yes, the young american was included on the list). But beyond this, getting my intellect involved in making resolutions and decisions seemed the most unnatural and unnecessary thing to do. Much more preferable and natural for me at the moment is the 'follow your nose approach,' supported by a good bit of belly fire (aka gut instinct) and absolutely minimal planning. And I do believe it seems to be working wonders, not least for helping me shed the layers of contraction, grasping and worry that have accumulated onto me through my more predictable and routined approach to life. Ahh, the freedom of life on the road.

Fridays being 'ashram days off,' we took a trip into town for a bit of a change of scene. Not that any of us particularly wanted to get away from the peace, stillness and beauty, but we went nonetheless, 'as people do' (liek sheep). Kodaikkanal is a particularly friendly place with, thanks to the British, a focus on chocolate-making, so of course I wasbound toi be a happy teddy. So, like true ashram rebels having a 'day-off' from our purity (!), we gorged ourselves on chocolate until we all felt truly sick, following which we had no choice but to go and camp out by the beautiful lake. The following day, though, I yet again underwent the joyous task of cramming my numerous belongings into my bag and launching myself off into that unknown that was the temple trail of Tamil. Yes, I had originally intended to spend a rather longer time here in this mountainous haven. But, in reality, this was not the place for me - I appreciated the beauty of the place and the lovely home-made Tamil cooking, but beyond that I was left with a bit of a question mark. And it was at this point that I realised I truly must be looking for something on this trip, though I was stumped to say what exactly. Whatever, I certainly wasn't finding it here, so oft I jolly well went to Madurai, home of the beautiful Meenakshi Temple.