Co-operation...Anywhere!

India’s greatest commodity is her abundance of people. We in the Western world rely on technology and machinery. India multiplies the human work force, forgoing modern machinery and convoluted inventions. In her most basic form, India relies on co-operation amongst her people.

In Varkala each morning, way before I wake up, the wooden fishing boats loaded with men and a huge net set out into the Arabian Sea. Energized by manpower, rowing with extended paddles they brave the wild waves to set out nets for gathering fish.

By 8:00 am the neighbourhood men gather for the harvest. Lined up along the long ropes they create a live tug of war effect, joining their muscle power to pull in the harvest of fish in the nets. As each man reaches the final pull, he moves to the front of the line, positioning himself strategically to continue his efforts. At the back, the used rope gets wound up, readying for the next day. Whistling, singing, yelling, laughing, they continue to pull. After a good hour and a half the empty net lays dormant on the sandy ground. Each man has a small bag of catch, perhaps ready to sell at the local restaurant, or a meal to take home for his family.

Malayalam is not a gentle language, so the interaction often sounds like angry yelling. The broad smiles, however and the vibrant shared laughter assures me of their joy and shared congeniality. They know there’s enough food for the day, and they trust in the good intentions of each other.  That understanding of mutual respect is essential to work productively.

This same co-operation is evident everywhere! Riding on the streets of Fort Cochin one afternoon, I stop peddling my bicycle to watch a crowd of people working together to build a second floor on one of the neighbourhood houses. Positioning themselves on each rung of a ladder spanning from the ceiling of the first floor to the top of the second floor, men and women pass cement bricks from one to the next. Beginning from the cement mixer on the ground the brick moves to the next hands. Each brick gets passed until it finds the next appropriate space in the wall and is put in place. It all happens with the joint effort that comes with teamwork.

In India, the largest commodity of the country is her people. India’s population is one of the largest in the world.  The economy is weak and many individuals struggle to survive. That’s why people power fuels the growth of the country. People are the country’s wealth.

In schools in Southern India, it is not unusual to have 70 students in an elementary classroom with one teacher present. Students are engaged, respectful, seemingly happy, and the literacy rate in the state of Kerala is 97%.

In North America, teachers in our system struggle with 32 students in a classroom, complaining that it is impossible to teach to the various needs. I say, let’s take a lesson from India. Teaching our young teachers to develop lesson plans that include students teaching students is imperative and healthy. Research about co-operative learning supports the notion that many of us thrive on making sense of the material by interacting with others. Making the content meaningful, sometimes more personal, by having conversations with peers and colleagues, helps to bring meaning to a more practical level.

I see this in many places I go. On Gabriola, many of us care deeply about the wellbeing of our neighbours. Nobody needs to go homeless or go hungry. Sometimes individuals can be ‘down and out’, in need of support and extra resources. In a strong community, there’s a dance that happens that provides space for shared leadership and also helplessness.

Steven Covey talks about attaining peak level of cooperation by establishing a ‘shared vision'. Once all participants ‘buy in’ to the end product, cooperative interaction becomes more reasonable. As our children were growing up, preparing meals became a cooperative endeavour. I remember the first time our (then) 10-year-old daughter gets into my car on the way home from school, and she says “What are we making for dinner tonight?” That expression of “we” reinforced for me the cooperative nature of our family. It was a simple need that each of us had a part in. And, if someone had too much homework one day, or simply wasn’t home to participate, it was forgiven, because that person would certainly be available at another time. Meals were a pleasant opportunity to gather and share and eat. We all enjoyed it, and, we all benefitted.

Cooperation requires skilful development that doesn’t happen by itself. Establishing a sound mutually respectful foundation must be grounded in a clear understanding of expectations and roles. Ongoing interaction for clarification and  ‘check in’ is essential. Whether it’s for building a house, or dragging the fish in for the day, or planning and making a meal together, or ensuring that the whole class understands the times tables in math, cooperative communication can only enhance the process for all. Here, in Canada, we have a lot to learn from India’s people!

Just Plain 'Thank You'

I am psychologically preparing myself for our return to home. Life is different for me now somehow. Since I left Canada I turned 60 years old. I feel a transition happening for me into a stage of permission. What does that mean?

Permission to relax some. I have earned the right to take care of my self. I want to try to avoid working so hard and not only love what I’m doing, but also love what I anticipate doing.

I feel confident in the love I share with others. I give from my heart when I’m not sure of the best place to find the answers. I do what I want and seek what I desire, and I still live the idea that ‘if I don’t get what I want, I don’t want it anymore’. I live with the notion of Ahimsa, non-violence. I do what I want as long as it doesn’t hurt anybody, including myself.

My work still fulfils me. I am satisfied with a playful balance that allows me to work a few days a week. Organizations seek me out for workshops, and although I can say “No”, I love working so much, I usually say “Yes”.

I am available to my children (they’re not really children anymore) and loved ones. Although it never is really enough, I do spend time with each one of them in special and unique ways as often as we possibly can. We continue to create memories. Ultimately that’s all we are left.

I anticipate quiet. As our house goes up I dream about nesting again. It will be different from when we were growing up our family and careers. Our new home will be a chance to settle. I look forward to that.

So…thank you once again, India for the inspiration to reconnect, to settle down and to reinvest. You fill me up and help me go on.

Recently one of my daughters ‘shared’ an article written by Oliver Sacks, neurologist and best selling author, and a tremendous inspiration in our culture. In his article, 80 year-old Sacks informs the public about his imminent death due to cancer. His article is an expression of gratitude for his life and a continued thrust for living fully, right until the very end. At 60, I feel like that a little.

I am NOT dying! 60 is not old! And it’s also not young. I am past ‘middle age’, and I am far from ready to ‘give up’. In some places in the world, I benefit from senior citizen’s rates. As a woman in India I’ve been eligible for ½ price rates on trains and buses since I’m 58, and in other places I’m not quite old enough to be considered an ‘elder’.

I feel extremely healthy in my body. I practise Yoga daily, spend several minutes in inverted postures, and maintain a solid balance of physical, psychological and spiritual health. I run, ride my bicycle and walk often. My muscles are tight and solid, and although my flesh is ‘fleshier’ than it was even 10 years ago, I feel slim and trim and fit.

I still crave learning and giving and participating in the world. I still feel an abundance of wealth to share with others material and spiritual and intellectual.

The second habit of Steven Covey’s Seven Habits of Highly Effective People is “Begin With The End In Mind”. I have always taken that habit very seriously, and through my life regularly ask myself, “How do I want to be remembered by others?” What do I want people saying about me when I die?”  Each action I engage in, throughout my life is driven by these questions. I don’t want to wait until I’m old or dying. I want to do it now, slowly, intentionally and meaningfully.

So sometimes, when I read through my own writing, I think… “Cheesy”! Too much gratitude. Too much love. Too much of the “same, same”! Then I am reminded of an incident during one of my workshops in a corporation in Toronto. In facilitating participation by all involved, I remind participants about the requirement for mutual respect and listening with heart, spending time engaging in clarifying conversation. During one session, a woman in the group said, “Enough, enough! We know all about this!  It’s just silly to keep coming back to the same thing! We’re grown ups after all!” My immediate response at that time was, “What’s silly about treating each other with respect? We can never learn it enough!”

There are some things in my life I never want to take for granted. (“When we assume, we make an ass out of u and me.”)  Oliver Saks reminds me about the kind of person I want to be throughout my life. I never want to assume gratitude. I want only to consider new ways of expressing it. I want to share it with others and remain open to change if necessary because I want always to be as close to contentment as possible.

Varkala

Our trip to India this year hasn’t been all about fun for me. My dentist here, in India has been encouraging me for years to consider dental implants and fixing those teeth that have been creating problems. Though I’ve been procrastinating, this year I could hold out no longer. Knowing that our trips to India might be limited in the next few years and knowing the cost here is a quarter of the price of the same treatment in North America, I decided to do it.

Two front implants, a back molar crown, and an extraction of another molar that has been infected for some time were the focus for the ‘heavy’ work. A night guard for further prevention and a general dental cleaning also are included in the plan.

The surgery was a bit brutal. My teeth are older (as I am) and the roots were difficult to clear off the bones. Grafting was necessary and the recuperation has been slow. Our travel time has been seriously hijacked with the process and ‘vacationing’ has been out of the question.

So journeying to Varkala is a treat and offers me an opportunity to heal. Varkala is a beach village in Southern Kerala. It is, like Goa, Gokarna and Pushkar, a place where East meets West in a respectful and mutually beneficial manner. Indian gift wear and clothing is available all over the city, especially on “The Cliff”, a long pathway of shops, restaurants and spa centres offering travellers anything they could desire during a vacation. Below, the Arabian Sea roars, lined with luxurious white and also black sandy beaches. People from all over the world take advantage of sun and beach time.

We’ve been here several times before and our accommodation of choice is a small beach resort one and a half kilometres from the busy “Cliff” part of the beach. A small room with a private bathroom and a working fan is simple and very quiet. For 425 Rupees ($9.00) a night, who can beat it?

Yesterday, forgoing morning Yoga practice, Paul and I wander in the opposite direction from the touristy area to revisit a Hindu Temple from an earlier stay. At that time we experienced a festival with elephants and horses and competitions whereby groups of men attempted to knock over a huge decorated wooden horse. At that time, new to India, we didn’t even question the purpose of the event. Yesterday, music drives us towards the same temple.

As we arrive, thick clouds of smoke envelop us, and the smell of burning wood alerts us that something grand is happening. Our approach exposes us to rows of Indian women dressed in elaborately adorned saris. Hundreds of beautiful women, each standing in front of a cauldron of water, are feeding banana and palm leaves to fuel the fire and keep water in the pots boiling. Water from the nearby well cleans the rice. The sound of singing and drumming and reed pipes permeate the area. Individual devotion and prayer keep each woman focussed and participating. Eventually with loud ululations, the cleaned rice is poured into the pots for cooking into paysam and then made as a sweet offering in the Temple. The celebration honours Devi, the female expression of the divine and, according to Hindu tradition, one of the five primary forms of God.

 

We stay for quite a while, observing, engaging and communicating with the women without words or language other than smiles, soft touch and signs of Namaste. I continue to feel so blessed to have these experiences and to participate with others of such diverse culture.

The cuisine here in Varkala is exquisite. We’ve eaten everything from biryani to fish in banana leaf to pizza to sashimi. Each morning the nets are pulled in on to the shore. You can see line-ups of men tugging on the thick, solid ropes hoisting the fishing nets out of the water. As we pass the men on our way to Yoga, it is not unusual for them to invite us to help. Playfully we join their efforts pulling the ropes. You can’t get fish any fresher! At night the fish are displayed at the front of each café. “What is his good name?” I joke with the proprietors as I point to a large red snapper. Paul looks at me with his ‘you’re so obnoxious’ kind of eyes. He calls it “western humour”. They don’t understand me! It doesn’t even matter how they cook the fish. It is always delicious!

My teeth are healing. I’m feeling better. It’s been a wonderful beach vacation! Tomorrow our evening train ride will carry us back to Fort Cochin. Our friends there await our arrival to spend our last days in India together. We are almost ready to go home again!

Gurukala, This Time Around

The breeze flows gently through the trees as I lie in savasana this morning. It’s quiet. No one stirs around me. An occasional car horn sounds from the road a mere 200 feet through the trees. Though the sound of rubber on the roads is constant, the brush hides passersby from my vision. Empty branches provide camouflage although occasionally a shiny flash from a cyclist’s helmet speeds by. Other than that, the road is invisible. So am I.

The Gurukula is sleeping this morning, most people exhausted from yesterday’s Pooja celebration.  The annual event has traditionally been an opportunity to give back to the villagers of Kagliapura for all that they do for the Gurukala all year. Using the Guru’s birthday as an excuse to celebrate, family members and friends of the Gurukala gather to cook and decorate and entertain community. It is a joyful day for prayer, learning, celebration and sharing a meal together.

In preparation, we put up tents all over the land to accommodate those guests who ch0ose to sleep over. Cooking happens throughout the night in outside kitchens temporarily erected for the purpose. There are cooking jobs for anyone who wants to participate. Our plan is to serve 150 guests during the afternoon. Ravi, the chief chef and Mah’s son-in-law, is our ‘fearless leader’ - planning, shopping, delegating, cooking and serving the bunch. Music plays into the wee hours and is there to welcome the sun in the morning, with delicious breakfast and then lunch.

Curries, rice dishes, an array of fresh vegetables, chutneys, papadam and salads leave no body hungry! Sweet paisam finishes off any cravings one might have. Lined up against the walls of the prayer hall, people come to eat from banana leave plates and drink water from paper cups. It is a full day of friendship, interaction and party. Not every day is like that at The Gurukula.

It’s a very special place here. Somehow I get lost in the experience of gathering with others to create sacred space for cooperative celebration. Here, extended family and friends share a vision of communal living and giving back to the universe. People who thrive together working towards a better world care about their own wellbeing as well as that of others in the community, and ultimately for the greater world.

Guru Muni and me

Gurukula is a place where people come to pray and learn. The leader, Guru Muni lives in Varkala and visits our small Gurukala outside of Bangalore at least once a year. At 76 years old, Guru Muni is a sweet man who jovially shares his ideas with others. I have heard recently someone describing his road to enlightenment as being a bond created between himself and his Guru. Kind words with a gentle humility, Guru shares his teaching with excitement and joy that makes listening to him wonderful, even if, sometimes, we don’t share the same ideas.

Something happens to me at Gurukula. I lose myself when I’m here, and yet I find myself at the same time. Like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, I feel a sense of unencumbered freedom that inspires my daily activity.

Mah and me

Perhaps it is my relationship with the Gurukula Mother, Mah. Over the years, we have become extremely close. Ours is a beautiful example of when “East meets West”. Mah is deeply learned and a spiritual seeking soul. She lives simply, and peacefully seeking calm within the geographic limitation established by the Gurukala and by India in general. Only recently, since having been granted Sennyasa, has she ventured from her physical roots to learn more about her world.

And then there’s me. I too seek spiritual clarity and embrace deeper ways of learning about the world around me. My western background and specific skills drive my expression in ways so different from Mah. And, yet, she and I understand each other and respect the traditions by which each of us expresses our selves. When Mah and I get together, Manju, her youngest daughters laughs warningly and says…”Watch out India! Here they come!” Both Mah and I feel blessed with what we share together.

As I lie in Savasana this morning I settle in and ground myself to the earth. I mindfully embrace the pure essence of Gurukula with all it provides for me. I hope I can continue to share that essence with all those I love everywhere in this wonderful world and to bring the best practices together in the beauty of meeting East with West.

Finding Peace Once More

On April 14, 2014 my front tooth completely cracked. It created a dental emergency just hours before the first seder of Passover was to begin in our home. We were hosting 16  guests. Frantic, without a dentist in BC (my dentist for the past five years has been in India) I quickly found an emergency clinic that would take me immediately and at least temporarily, repair the damage.

Two more broken teeth, a broken metacarpal bone in my right hand, and the anxiety of turning 60 have thrown me physically and spiritually into a state of havoc. This confusion is only amplified by the awareness that several close and very dear friends are experiencing effects of disease and each is struggling with their very survival.

 

Events worldwide have been destructive.  Predominating are episodes of terrorism, misogyny, racism, general disregard for humanity.  There seems to be a total disrespect for our environment in the pursuit of money, and a general loss of hope fills our world. I take these things on, no doubt, absorbing them into my soul!

Distraction and disorder make it difficult for me to focus. Seeking the ‘good’ becomes too demanding, and trying to maintain positivity and peace is exhausting. I know what I need to do, and I struggle with the effort.

My mind is constantly busy. My attempts at meditation have been frustrating and I just can’t seem to slow my thoughts! I’m looking for the place of peace I know is within.

I know. I know. “Focus on your breath.” “Act as an observer of your thoughts.” “Create a mantra for redirecting prana.” These are the words I teach! So why am I struggling so hard to model these ideas?

Here, now, in India, I revisit where I need to be:

Yoga means Unity. When I am practising Yoga, I feel in total harmony with my surroundings. I am able to watch the clouds floating above me. At times I feel myself within the clouds, totally engaged with their movement. And sometimes I even feel higher than the clouds. It’s a little like being in Heaven!

My Yoga practice this week has been fulfilling. “The body remembers,” one of my Yoga teachers reminds me often. Once I’ve found something wonderful, I can always find it again!

My children used to tell me I think too much. Nothing comes easily. Everything becomes an issue and I’m always “on”. I think they are right. Someone once told me I have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. I suppose if I stopped thinking, I might not care so much.

Yoga teaches me to ‘focus on my own practice’. My Yoga practice is personal. It is mine and, with some direction, I lose myself in bliss. During my practice I mostly keep my eyes shut. It allows me to go within and focus on my breath and what my body tells me it needs. I function from that place of inner knowing whenever I can.

At the same time… I am a teacher. Sometimes I can’t help it! If I see someone doing something harmful, it’s a struggle for me to hold back. I sometimes ask myself, “How can I keep my eyes closed to what’s happening around me?” I am, in fact, my brothers’ and sisters’ keeper. I feel compelled to help those around me, especially when I am feeling strong and able. Balance is critical, between focussing on my own practice and taking care of others.

I have a deep inner sense that I am growing out of the depths of this past year. Symbolically, I am in India for healing. I am here to have dental implants put in and to bring the condition of my mouth to a state of good health. Ayurvedic medicine provides massage and treatment to heal my body mindfully. I am immersed in Yoga and reintroducing myself to my self, where I feel comfortable and good and strong. I am intentionally reflecting on those things in my life that no longer serve me and focussing on the beauty and good that is with me and will thrive with my attention.

I am seeing that proverbial “light” more clearly now and know better how to move towards it. My 60^th birthday has passed, I am reuniting with India and gathering from the source of power she offers me. As of last night, all the teeth that required extraction, are gone. No more ambiguity. My personal relationships are strong, and, if they’re not, I know better how to assess whether to fix them or just leave them behind (like I’ll do with my teeth). I have learned powerful lessons from my healing crisis, and know that I will emerge renewed and more at peace as a result.  I feel eternally grateful!

Building Our 'Home'

We’re building a house!  It’s a group effort, really! Our friends Huguette and Mark are the builders. 

Before the Pour

They do everything. We try to help. Sometimes that means staying away! And sometimes we are invited to get our fingers into the process!

I knew this process was going to be a joy, when, the first time we talked about the house, Mark said to me, “When you’re drinking your coffee in the morning, and you’re all alone, what do you want to be looking at from your window?” The designing of the house has been the same ever since. We had regular meetings over the last year, with meals, drinks, casual and still formal, hashing out ideas and, together, implementing them into the design.

We watch as the footprint of our home becomes evident. First step is carefully deciding which trees need to be cut in order to create space. We approach this task with a great deal of care, having real conversations with each of the trees chosen, apologizing for disrupting their lives and promising to use them all, in some way, in the creation of our home. Stacked in anticipation of becoming our floors, ceilings and walls, the trees now are sitting comfortably drying and waiting to be prepared for such purpose.

The dig begins and what we find underground helps determine possibilities. Gabriola’s nickname, “The Rock” is obvious as we begin to make room. On that rock will exist our crawl space and our house is starting to emerge. With Paul and myself in India we leave the concrete pour completely to Huguette and Mark. We suggest placing tangible items in the concrete to include meaning and concepts that are less physical and just as important.

“Huummmm…. that’s interesting!” I think! I like this!

And so, I begin my journey of self-reflection. “What are the elements I want to embed in the structure of our home? What is important to us? What do we want to perpetuate, conceptually, in the world, even after our physical presence is no longer?

Tomorrow the concrete will be poured. The walls of our house will be erected and the foundation on which our shelter stands will be established. Along with the actual materials needed for a solid, stable structure, our house will also be built upon the following forces, each represented by a symbol for it’s meaning:

1-            A wooden spoon represents Family and Sustenance. Our family gathered most of the time in the kitchen. We made our food together, for the most part. Each child learned to cook in his/her own way and each one felt a sense of responsibility for our meals. Although I was generally ‘in charge’, everybody participated. I remember when I actually realized that. One day on our way home from school after picking up each of the kids, one of them got into the car and said. “What are we making for dinner tonight?” I knew then, that we had some good teamwork going on!

2-            A candle for light embodies our family’s weekly ritual for welcoming the Shabbat, providing for a day of rest, shedding light on our week to come and giving voice to the gratitude we all shared. Our Judaism is solidly based in the ideas of Tikkun Olam, repairing the Universe, and we tried hard to teach our children to live a conscious life where we are, in fact “our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers.

Included in the Concrete....

3-            One plastic earring-            One Sunday evening, my then 7 year old step daughter, Julia, comes running into the house after spending a weekend at her ‘other’ home. She had gone to garage sales that weekend and she excitedly came to our house with a present for me. Knowing how much I loved earrings, she had bought me a funky pair of rubber and plastic earrings made of turquoise and yellow, beige and black geometric shapes. I loved those earrings because of their simplicity and the complexity of its intention. May our house always be full of the gift of giving and the joy of receiving.

4-            A photograph of my oldest friend and myself represents long lasting friendships. I feel blessed to have so many special friendships in my life. Sustaining communication is sometime challenging and the benefits are so worth the task! May our house be filled with friendships…all kinds…. new and long time ones, and may the people who live in our house never feel alone!

5-            I’ve represented Love with a handkerchief!  My husband, Paul is the only person I know of my generation who still uses a handkerchief every day! May our new house be filled always with the kind of love that Paul and I share. May on-going communication, thoughtfulness, understanding, and passion thrive here, and may the occupants continue to dream big always.

6-            The Sanskrit symbol of “ohm” is the primordial sound that vibrates through our bodies when we chant. It is the visual representation of universal wholeness and a reminder of the worldly possibilities. For me, it is “home” unencumbered by walls and roofs and a reminder of the boundlessness in one’s own potential. I pray that anyone who enters this house will feel at “home’ within.

And may it all be so…

Biennale Inspiration

In 2012, Fort Kochi hosted it’s first Biennale Art Exhibition. Spanning the entire region of 

Kochi, hundreds of artists, Indian and international, display their works in buildings, on street corners, in parks, and cafes. Multi media and numerous sensory expressions could be found everywhere. Paul and I loved the one price ticket that allowed us to go in and out of displays all over the city.

This year, Biennale has returned and we, once again, are experiencing the vast array of artistic offerings by artists .Some of what we see is particularly unique and inspiring. Some can be (at least from my perspective) somewhat silly and self-indulgent. Yesterday I wandered through an inviting park, especially designed by Valsan Koorma Kolleri for Biennale attendees. Alone for almost an hour, I sat on a rock and wrote…

There’s a place I used to know. I found it today. I used to play here!

There are various shades of green scattered on the earth. The palms reach tall and the tree trunks spread outwards. Their branches provide playgrounds for the birds.

I played here long ago. The swing still dangles lopsided from a rope on a nearby tree, even now. The fallen woods pile high and the brittle leaves make crunching sounds as I walk.

Crows laugh. They don’t remember long ago. They never played here. But I did!

I used to play here! I cartwheeled through the heaps of composted soil. I hid under giant stones that were left alone to settle. I sat quietly and still as the ants crawled on my naked skin and the gentleness of the breeze swooshed them away.

I listened to the crows as they laughed at me until I became familiar. And then, we laughed together.

I clambered up ropes left behind by the fisherman and smelled the tastes of the sea.

I got lost in the luxurious bushes and looped my way around until finally I found my way.

I found my way…the place where I used to play.