So, this morning I woke up at three to go to sadhadna. It's a two hour session where you go do some yoga and then chant for an hour. This was my second time and I love it. I also admit that I get a certain amount of spiritual seeker cred from myself by getting up long before the sun to consecrate my soul as a servant of G-d. Good stuff.
Mostly, other than the actually class, is the walk there. To get there I have to walk across the entire campus and then go uphill in the dark. I feel very holy. Obnoxiously holy as I climb up this crazy trail in the pitch dark with only my headlamp to guide me. And wouldn't you know it that this morning it was pouring rain. Buckets of water came down from the sky as I climbed up over the piles of wet leaves. The roots, random sticks and various other hazards to my body in order to align it with it's Divine purpose. I could have lit a cathedral with my breath, I felt so holy. The woman I was walking with did not agree.
"Are you sure it's this way? I could have sworn there was a road."
"It's okay. I know it by feel."
We'd tried the road we knew of but it only went to the meditation sanctuary. Only about half way up the trail toward where we needed to go. She had to trust me and my oh, so unsafe trail. But I'd gotten there before. I knew where I was going even tough I didn't know. It's an amazing feeling to just climb in the dark knowing that only my legs know where I'm going. I felt reassured. Not so for my companion.
"Maybe we need to go this way."
I did not listen. I climbed like the serious seeker I am. I climbed knowing that I have been chosen by G-d for some amazing purpose. I climbed all the while editing what the passage would look like in my spiritual memoir. I wasn't really walking in my big, blue rain suit. I was floating. Floating on G-d energy. That and pure crazy, ego-maniacal attachment to holiness.
We get to the Hillhouse where the class was being held. It was a powerful session. Afterwards, the whole class walked down together down the gravel road that takes you safely in a nice curve from the top of the hill to the bottom. It was so funny to me.
I get off on making this stuff hard. I keep reading these books that tell me that the Truth is simple. Not easy, but simple. But to feed my enormous ego, I'd rather walk uphill in the rain when it's so dark that I can barely see in front of me rather than try to find an easier, saner way of doing something.
That's why I love this place. I can find myself faced with my crap, but just rather than giving myself a hard time, I just notice it. It's funny. Common. Humbling and well worth the price of admission.
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In Italy Mark and I came up with our new Grahamnatow motto (to be added to our list of "Don't Get Hit By A Car" and "Fish is Good"). "When in Doubt, Go Up." It seemed that where ever we were (and bear in mind, Italy is jam-packed with hills) if faced with the choice of Up or Down, we were invariably rewarded with views, sights, espresso, gelato, etc, if we chose up, which was nearly always the more difficult schlep. It was always worth the effort.
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