An Internal Way of Life
by Rebecca Silverman, South Asia Center

On a bumpy road with the direction unknown. The bus jammed with people and nowhere to rest your head. Nodding off to that desired state of sleep but instantly awakened with every jerk or with the laughter of the person sitting next to you. No one knew what lay ahead of us and we stared out the window at a landscape that was foreign to us. Eyes full of curiosity and a blank slate to create a memory on. We arrived after making our way down a little winding path and there in front of us lay a beautiful building. The walls were open and the roof hovered above with the help of a few pillars. Our shoes lined up in rows as we took them off to climb up the stairs. There we sat on a platform that looked out on a silent piece of land with colors of green so defined and exquisite and textures I had never seen before. In the distance was a windmill spinning and pumping up the water that we used for cooking and bathing. Such a calming sound throughout the day and night. Little straw mats were laid out in a square for us to sit upon as we ate. We all looked in at each other, sharing our stories and insights and then we settled into our rooms. Mattress after mattress lay across the floor, girls separate from boys. The candles were lit and mosquito coils burnt and we slept together as strangers who would soon become friends. The morning started early. At six o'clock we drank our tea and walked along a path, through fields of purple to an open-air room with colorful mats spread upon the floor and a few pillows dispersed throughout. There was a statue simply placed in the front and four pictures of different gurus and swamis. They were all foreign faces to me but I still felt respect for them and could almost feel their presence as I learned from their traditions. We sat in silence with our hands consciously put in mudras and our eyes closed. We chanted the "Om" three times as a repetitious beginning and we directed our focus on the third eye and from there we searched for a state of mind that was far from thought, a state of body that was conscious and aware yet heavy and relaxed, and a state of spirituality that I had yet to explore. The techniques of breathing, the body still and relaxed, we began. Ankle rotations, butterflies, shoulder movement and then the neck, round and round. Palm trees swaying in the wind. Salutations to the sun. Breathing in and out. Inhaling deep into the core of our beings and relieving the tension that so blatantly controlled our day-to-day lives. We sat together in rows with just enough distance to define our own personal space. We listened to the teacher's repetitious, monotone voice and learned from his actions.

Breath...in through the left, out through the right. In through the right, out through the left. Focused on my third eye. Internalized to the core of my being. Exploring the spirituality within. My third eye, that line to the wall that gives me my focus. An internal vision that keeps me from falling. An internal way of life. The contours of my body, so intricate in detail but so simple in the state of my presence. Wind through my nostrils, brushing the walls of my consciousness and leaving me with an inner awareness so pure and simple. Aware of emptiness, a freedom so foreign and yet within us all. In... Out... My weight drops through the floor. Falling, falling. Pulled by a magnet. My still presence so hallowed and my conscious thought so stable. Focused on the motion of breath. In the left, out the right. In the right, out the left. Balance and the freedom of stillness.

It was, to the say the least, a breath of fresh air, a healing process. The noises were different. No motorcycles or rickshaws riding by, no honking, no voices. Just birds and crickets, and the leaves whispering as the wind passed through them. A blanket of purple covering the ground and embracing the earth with a layer of warmth. A place of peace.