Wednesday, 3 July 2013

The Guru’s School – yogic curriculum



During the weekdays the ashram   was a classical traditional Guru-kula , school of training with the Guru.   Discipline was the primary requirement of residents.      There was  just  a small group of us living  there full time , mostly westerners,   several young Indian  men and women  who lived there and , a collection of retired older  Indian devotees doing their vanaprashta thing , and a handful of swamis and priests.  The Indian devotees used to say to us that we were extremely fortunate to be able to stay there for long periods, as mostly they could only come for brief holidays from school or work or family duties.

Baba  had his own unique way of weeding out any hippie-type  vagrant  visitors who wandered through seeking a  comfortable easy  life.  In those days .there were many such people, seeking a high through drugs or various practices, but not seriously interested in yoga or spiritual practices

If such visitors had come to the ashram, he  would occasionally stride through the kitchen or courtyards with a stick shouting loudly in Hindi appearing very wrathful and  terrifying.  Later in the question and answer session he would laugh about how his frightful  display had worked on the visitors--  they  rolled up their sleeping bags and sneaked out the front gate and went on looking for a more hospitable place.   

His anger was terrifying, but I could often see he used it skillfully.  On another occasion he was striding around with his stick shouting at people for not being present in the evening chant.  When he was in that mood, people dispersed very quickly.   He came up to the area where I was working .  “How was I?” he asked  as he giggled and  handed me a sweet from a bag he was carrying in his other hand. 

In this traditional setting he was teaching us all aspects of yogic life  through the  on-going ashram routine, by his own example, and through spontaneous individual interactions.

He  trained us to understand that meditation, samadhi was not some kind of trance,  spaced out state. Swadhyaya, recitation of the various scriptural texts in Sanskrit, sometimes for six hours in a day,   formed such a large part of the daily schedule.  He taught us that we didn’t need to chase after Samadhi, that if we chanted the beautiful Sanskrit texts with full attention and devotion, meditation would chase after us.  We had to sit attentively in the morning Guru Gita Chant, spine straight, holding the book high, concentrating intently as we chanted.  If we slouched, we would be targeted  with a small wooden block that he kept in a little tray on his table as missiles of mindfulness.

  That was training for our meditation practice.  In fact the careful recitation of the Sanskrit texts with  attention to pronunciation and meter, was a profound pranayama practice, deeply affecting the harmony of our internal life force.  And the resonance of the precise  sounds of Sanskrit were making deep impressions on our subtle nervous  channels, nadis.  To this day, when I hear Sanskrit being recited I feel as though my inner nadis are subtly vibrating  to the resonance.  The teaching on matrika shakti from the Kashmir Shaivite texts actually describes how each letter of the Sanskrit alphabet is embedded in our subtle nerves, thus the power of the mantras.

  He asked me to teach  hatha yoga to the young students who came for school holidays and would give me advice on what and how to teach them.  I taught Malti and her younger sister,  Rani, yoga asanas  on their holidays, under his clear instructions and learned about the application of principles of Ayurveda to hatha yoga.  At that time there were no books available in English on Ayurveda, but through our daily life in the ashram he taught us about aspects of seasonal food and health and different body types. If we had the courage to ask about any  personal health issue, we had to be willing to undertake traditional ayurvedic remedies.  These could include, chewing on a bitter haritaki nut for constipation,  drinking cows urine for an antibiotic , or peeing on an injury on our feet  for cleansing.   

He modelled and exposed us to the profound experiences of bhakti yoga through his devotion to this own Guru, known as Bhagawan  Nityananda, and through his love of the devotional poems of the poet saints he would sing so melodiously. On occasion we would see his profound devotion as he wept in remembrance of his Guru.

Amma told a story of how  one day she encountered Baba  sitting on the steps,  weeping.  She asked him what was the matter?  He replied that he missed his beloved Guru greatly.  Amma  being, of course, the good disciple  said something about the inner Guru, who was  eternally with his disciples.  Baba’s reply was,  “Yes, but sometimes you just fall in love.” 

Sometimes in the very early morning, after meditating on the veranda outside of Baba’s room, I would follow him as he walked through  to the temple.  Peeking through the bars of the windows outside,  I would watch as he paid his respects through a full length pranam, prostrating with his body  outstretched on the floor.  His humble devotion in those private moments, observed  only by  the priest (and myself or any others who were  observing  secretly ) was  profoundly moving and inspiring.  

Karma yoga,  selfless service,  was brought to life with the emphasis on Guru seva as such an important part of the ashram daily schedule. Learning to work for the sheer joy of it, rather than expecting a reward was a profound teaching  of the Bhagavad Gita and the Indian devotees applied themselves to it with great devotion.  I was continuously inspired by their example. They worked with such joy and humility always cheerful and generous spirited,  often chanting devotional songs while working. 

The contrast between the cultures brought opportunities for learning, and Baba made good use of them.  We western students  had no problems with doing physical work, cleaning toilets or gardening, and he would often admonish the Indian devotees about their own pride and caste consciousness in refusing to do menial work, which according to their culture was beneath  their caste status. .  In turn he would scold us for being so proud and arrogant, and lacking in the humble  devotion that the Indians would express in the ashram. 
He also taught us how to integrate and sustain levels of joy through the chanting and  dancing saptahs- 7 day chants that went for 24 hours.   He would raise the pitch and level of the chant to thrilling  ecstatic   levels and  signal the drummer and harmonium player to hold them,  showing us  how to quietly extend and sustain those levels of joy without crashing out into unconsciousness or getting wildly overexcited.   That was very helpful  training in sustaining states of bliss in meditation. 
  
On the weekend it was a totally different  picture of Indian life.   Saturday afternoon  the buses would arrive from Bombay which was about two-three hours away by bus or train.   People arrived  carrying in offerings of baskets of food and flowers, as  the regular  Bombay devotees came in and the atmosphere completely changed from one of quiet meditation to a festive environment.  Sunday morning Guru Gita was very lively with the devoted chanting of the Indians and  visiting guest musicians who wanted to play for Baba, often special songs they had composed for him.  
 During the morning there was an endless line of people bringing flower garlands and baskets as offering to meet and pay respects to Baba. Often guest musicians, famous flute players, devotional singers  or sitar players would play in the temple. At that time the courtyard took on the feel of a King’s court. Baba had an extraordinary regal quality and the ashram was his royal court rich with the artful  elegance, colour and rasa  of the beautiful rich  Indian culture. 

Also many visitors came for the day on Sunday, busloads would arrive and people would take tours through the gardens.  Often devotees would offer special feasts for weddings or other occasions, and the simple ashram fare would be replaced with very rich, spicy, but delicious Indian delicacies.  Sometimes I found the contrast of the quiet weekdays with their serene  gentle rhythm and the weekend chaos  overwhelming, and would hide myself in the meditation cave where there was quiet.

The years from 1971-74 were a unique time  in the ashram as the ashram was not very developed, it was clean and reasonably comfortable and Baba personally oversaw all activities.    There was sufficient time and peace in the environment  to really enter into deep meditation practice. Such a rarefied environment with all the features conducive to deep meditation is  something extremely rare.  To this day, I appreciate the precious  opportunity we had  for profound and deep meditation practice. 

After his second world tour from 1974-1976 the ashram became  a busy place, and more activities such as courses, intensives, yagnas,  and long chants  were started  to engage the many foreign visitors who came in specially chartered jumbo jets for short, intensive ashram experience.

In 1973  there was a terrible drought throughout India. India is  very dependent on the  rain fall  of its yearly monsoon.  If it is compromised in any way, lack of rain, the farmers would suffer terribly. One such year, the droughts drove people out of the rural areas and into the city looking for any possible work and food.  At that time the ashram was very short on water, and we became aware of how difficult and precarious life could be in India.  We were told that we could not use more than  ½ bucket of water per day to do all of our laundry, bathing, washing hair, etc.  

All I can say, is try to get by on that… but somehow we could manage and learned  to use water so sparingly, pouring a little onto the clothes or body, sudsing with soap and then rinsing with a minimal amount of water.

During that time the ashram offered  free food to hundreds of poor villagers and people who would congregate and come for lunch.  They would push and shove and file into the dining hall. I remember seeing them leave with their lungis, wrapped with rice that they were taking home with them. One time I walked through the dining hall after several serves of lunch had been served to these people.  I felt overcome by a huge cloud of a feeling of starvation, the feeling they had left there as they grabbed for food.  For that brief moment I knew what It felt to be starving, and it;s something I have never forgotten, making me very aware of not wasting food or other resources, knowing that somewhere in the world are people who do not have adequate food, water or other resources to meet their basic needs.

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