Amidst the lush monsoon greenery, the sultry heat and the rains, I was recently in an ashram built on the banks of the river Ganges in Bihar. There was an enveloping quiet in the air, a time that allowed me to just be me.
Following simple but meaningful routines, this time allowed me to reflect on my true purpose in life. It allowed me to engage in the present with more mindfulness anchored in a space of stillness.
I had gone there with no expectations; I just knew and believed that whatever would unfold would be a gift of healing and learning.
Ashrams are almost always associated with being a shelter of spirituality and austerity. For me, it was a place of silence, simplicity, learning and surrender; also a place of expansion and transformation. The only place you take yourself as you are, work with who you are to become who you are meant to be. It is also a place you learn about selflessness, service and kindness.
Sometimes, I find that there are many intonations and connotations given to spiritual expression. It is either romanticized, feared or criticized. I have rarely come across people who would just understand it for what it is. It doesn’t help that gurus are viewed as gods or miracle men and women; it doesn’t help your devotion does not come devoid of you and your expectations, and it doesn’t help that you are unwilling to do the work on yourself but expect to be enveloped in an aura of unshaken wellbeing.
Often in the rush of life, we tend to sideline ourselves. We know what we truly need but the demands of work and life are such that despite knowing what’s best, we settle for what’s next best. Sometimes, an ashram is the only place where you can return to yourself.
I don’t think I can ever articulate well my time at the ashram or my gurus grace and blessings; all I can say are prayers of deep gratitude. I went with an open mind and heart, and it spoke to me.
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