It may seem strange that the title of this particular blog is called "The Awakening of the Yogi," however, there is a picture of a motorcycle. Before I get into my yogi awakening, this motorcycle has an interesting story attached to it. When I arrived in Rishikesh, India, at about 7 p.m. from Katmandu, Nepal, I stayed in a hotel not too far from the yoga school where I would eventually settle and begin the discipline. As I mentioned in the previous post, I didn't do much planning for this trip, I just put all of my faith in God and decided I would figure things out as I went along. Living this free without planning, of course, has some pros and cons: Everything is an adventure without any expectations or worries about plans falling through. The negative is I have to spend time on the go figuring out what I am doing and where I am going without any compass or guidance in a foreign country.
The next morning I turned to my friend Google to decide what nearby Yoga school I would attend to get my license to teach. Usually, folks spend weeks, perhaps even months, rummaging through the internet reading the pros and cons of each school, comparing prices, and ultimately deciding on a place after much deliberation — but not Demetrius. The first school I looked at was $1,300 for a four-week course. Since its location was close by, no more than a 10-minute walk from my hotel, I decided I would walk in and see what the institution was all about. After conversing with one of the instructors named Aaron about the day-to-day schedule, including classes beginning at 5:30 a.m. and ending at 8:00 p.m., with excursions on Saturday, and Sundays off, we agreed I would attend the Arogya Yoga School.
Since the classes didn't start for another three days, Aaron said I could stay at the residence and pay sometime the following week. I agreed and then went for a walk around Rishikesh. I was impressed with the beauty of the city: There were the Himalayan foothills, which stand remarkably tall all around the municipal, the holy Ganges River, where people were celebrating life, and children were running in and out of the water. The buildings showcased a multitude of different colors, making the city appear as one big rainbow. There were cows, goats, monkeys, dogs, cats, horses, donkeys, mice, and a variety of different birds all crowding the streets, while people were driving to and from their destination. There were the sellers and buyers all negotiating for the best price, and then there was me, a young black man from Harlem, NY, watching everything transpire simultaneously.
In this same breath, I noticed I didn't have any cash on hand, so I went looking for an ATM. I must have found at least five different banks, but each machine was out of money due to the ongoing festival of lights, also named Diwali. On my journey of trying to find an ATM with available money, I met a young man from Germany who was also seeking to withdraw funds. We ended up traveling together for over an hour, trying to find a place where we can retrieve cash but to no avail. During our travels around Rishikesh, he told me I could rent a motorcycle for a low price, ride up the hills to overlook the entire city, and meditate. "It is something you should experience," he said. I supposed I was eager to take him up on his advice since there were so many drivers beeping their horns aggressively, coupled with the smell of pollution, my head began hurting so his idea sounded like the best solution for some peace of mind.
As I was walking back to my room, I saw a sign that read "Rent a motorcycle for cheap," persuaded by my eagerness to attain some quiet time and experience the thrill of a motorcycle, I went into the store, completed the paperwork, and then before I could second guess myself, there she was: an all-black bike screaming at me to jump on and ride away with the wind. As I was lost in my excitement, the receptionist asked: "So, you know how to ride one of these bad boys, right?" Afraid he would steal my growing zeal by telling the truth (which was I have never ridden a motorcycle, let alone been on one), I said: "of course, man!” He should have rescinded the offer when, as soon as I got on the bike and asked: "So, how do you work this?"
After a few seconds of learning how to operate my new toy, the gentleman, before watching me take off with a look of concern on his face, said: "Sir, if any damage occurs, you have to pay it." With the joy of a child, I screamed back, "yeah, yeah, I know! I'll have it back before tomorrow morning" (since you rent for 24 hours). Nervous since this was my first time on a motorcycle, but also filled with enthusiasm for the ride, I carefully rode the bike towards the hills. I should mention here that unlike in America where we have two designated lanes, one for the going traffic and the other for the incoming, here in Rishikesh traffic goes the way it pleases. Just like in Nepal, there are no traffic lights, but rather, the drivers use their inner instinct to discern when they should go or stop. I have seen vehicles coming from opposing sides, appear as if they will crash into a deadly accident, only to divert at the last second. Knowing this, you would think I wouldn't want to be behind the wheel here, but instead, I jumped at the first opportunity to get behind, not just any set of wheels — but a two-wheeler!
When I began driving, I was doing well. I even joked with some women on the sidewalk that I was giving free rides. It wasn't until I was on my way up the actual hill I noticed the cars behind me honking their horns — which I do not know why I was bothered since everyone on the road seems to honk their horn excessively — so I sped up, pushing the gas until I felt as if the wind was also trying to catch up with me. As I am ascending the hills, my dreadlocks blowing behind me, and my eyes being pierced by the breeze, I noticed three things: I was going too fast, there was a woman walking a little off the road up ahead of me, and then the pavement within a few feet was making a sharp right turn.
Before I could even respond, let alone even think on what to do, I noticed the bike had slipped from my control, and I went tumbling into the middle of the road, as the bike itself slid in front of me, knocking the woman to the ground. In that same breath, the jeep directly behind me without a moment of hesitation, or perhaps I may not have been able to share this story, rode off into the other side of the road, slightly missing running over my body. With my right hip hurting and my right hand with a portion of the skin missing, I jumped up to help the lady who was slowly getting off the ground. "Madam, I am so sorry! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She replied with shock but with calmness, "I am okay, are YOU alright? Given I was too concerned with her and her well being, I neglected my pain and said: "don't worry about me, I want to make sure you are okay."
The jeep stopped completely, out came a mother and her husband, possibly in their 50s and their son, maybe in his 30s who also spared my life by his quick decision making. "My God, look at your hand! Go and grab some napkins, Arjun," the mother said to her son. I, still checking on the woman I knocked down, in the back of my head was beating myself up for being so careless. It was one thing for me to get into an accident, but another to involve someone else. The woman who I found out was from London, and whose name was Rachel, continued to remind me she was okay but wanted me to check on myself. Arjun came over and gently wrapped my right hand in napkins and placed tape over it to keep the blood from loosely flowing. "We're going up to see the view, why don't you two come with us," the mother said. Without hesitation, Rachel got into their car, and I, a little ashamed and wanting to disappear, decided I should get in the car too since I was also a bit traumatized by the accident, and could use the extra time to calm myself down.
In the vehicle a few things came to my mind: The first being I could have lost my life due to my carelessness, but was also reminded I have a guardian angel watching over and protecting my journey, or else perhaps I would have had more than a portion of the skin on my dominant hand missing. I also pondered on how, in those moments where you are reminded of your mortality, you humble yourself and lean on something or someone more than your puny and fragile human existence. I then thought about the grace in which Rachel showed me. She could have been angry and bitter, which she would have had the right to, but rather, chose kindness and forgiveness.
"Have you ever driven a motorcycle before sunny boy?" "No, madam," I responded to the mom's question. "So why were you driving it? Were you trying to be free? You young people sometimes I worry about." Rachel then interjected, "I am just glad you and I are okay." The mom then said, "you know, they say time plus tragedy equals humor. So, later on, perhaps you'll be laughing about this experience." I chuckled and said, "I hope so, madam." After driving for about 30 minutes, we stepped out of the car, took a picture, and then Arjun realized he was going the wrong way, so he turned back around. As we were making our way back down the hill, I asked if they could let me out before they drove in the opposite direction. "You sure you don't wanna come with us? You are more than welcome," Arjun replied. "No, this is my first day in India, I need to go return the bike and get some rest."
I slowly drove the bike back to the shop. "Bro, what happened to your hand?" The receptionist said. "I fell off," I replied. "Within an hour? I thought you knew how to drive a motorcycle?" "Yeah, about that…" I was too embarrassed to admit I lied since I wanted to drive without any impediments. "Okay, the damages will cost you 5,000 rupees" (or about $70), he said. At first, I tried to negotiate the price (don't ask me why I initiated to broker given I was the one who caused the damages) but to no avail. I could sense the other guys getting upset by my stalling and claiming the bike lost control by itself. I told myself I could do one of three things: I could run as fast as I could; I could maybe hold my own against the guys, or I could pay the people for my actions and go on with my life. I rationalized the options in my mind: "well, if I run, they look like they can run fast too, and only God knows what will happen if and when they caught me. If I try to fight, that won't be too smart since I am in a foreign country and possibly will end up under someone's rock. Or, I could pay them and go home with some form of peace of mind. I chose the latter and went to my room and slept, dreaming this was all one big nightmare occurring on my first day in India.
The next morning my hand was in excruciating pain, so I decided to take a tro-tro, or what we would call a cab, to the Nirmal Ashram Hospital. When I walked in, it felt as if the doctors stopped attending to the patients, the patients stopped attending to their pain, and the children stopped attending to their parents and just started looking at me. I just gave a slight smile and asked for directions to see a doctor. After filling out some paperwork and paying the required fee, I was able to see a nurse who said I needed to have my hand wrapped, a tetanus shot, and needed to take about three different medications. I sighed, she stuck me, I let out a slight cry, and in the back of my mind, I began regretting my decision to rent that motorcycle knowing damn well I didn't know what I was doing. "Lesson learned," I said to myself.
A day or two later, classes started, and I met the rest of my cohort, which consisted of three women and three other guys, making the members seven in total. Everyone else except myself and a young man from Austria had been practicing yoga for years. If you have ever done the practice of holding asanas (or postures) for any amount of time, you know how difficult it can be -- especially for us beginners. Between either being forced to concentrate on your breath, keeping your balance, or where your body is being stretched, your mind isn't allowed the space to wonder, but rather, it is entirely focused.
The word Yoga comes from the Sanskrit root "Yuj" meaning to bind, join, attach, and yoke; to direct and concentrate one’s attention on. The word also means union or communion, which makes sense since while practicing the discipline, you are strengthening your union with your body, mind, and Prāṇāyāma, or your control of the breath. The Katha Upanishad, considered as one of the significant Upanishads (which in itself is regarded as one of the sacred Hindu text), explains yoga as: "When the senses are stilled, when the mind is at rest, when the intellect wavers not - then, say the wise, the highest stage is reached. The steady control of the senses and the mind has been defined as yoga. He who attains it is free from delusion."
My teachers have further explained this message: In my mantra class, which begins at 6:30 a.m., there are a few mantras we repeat in Sanskrit repetitively to control our minds, to connect with the Divine, and to put forth positive energy into the world. I will share a few below and add their English meaning:
Ganesha Mantra:
“Vakra tunda maha kaya surya koti sama prabha. Nirvighnam kuru me deva sarva karyeshu sarvada”
“O mighty Ganesha of long body, curved trunk, with the brilliance of a million suns, please make all my work free of obstacles, always.
Mangalccharan Mantra II:
“Sarveshaam svasti Bhavatu, sarvesham shantir bhavtu sarvesham purnam bhavatu sarvesham manglam bhavata.”
“May auspiciousness be unto all, may peace be unto all, may fullness be unto all, may prosperity be unto all.”
“Om serve bhavantu sukhinah sarve Santo niramayah sarve bhadrani pasyantu, ma kashchit dukh bhag bhavet”
“Oh lord, in thee may all be happy, may all be free from misery, may all realize goodness, and may no one suffer pain.
Shanti Mantra II:
“Om sahna vavatu sahnau bhunaktu sahaveoryam karvaavahet tejasveenaa vaditamastu maa vid vishaa vahai. Om Shaanthihi, Shaanthihi, Shaanthihi.”
“May He protect all, may we perform together with the most heroic and Divine actions, may our learning be prosperous to all. May we never quarrel on the different beliefs we may have, may we illuminate together, may we live in harmony, may there be peace for all and forever.”
From my yoga philosophy, here are some notes I took while the teacher spoke on the importance of yoga from a philosophical point of view:
• Doing yoga will enhance your true identity
• Yoga’s goal is to become pure
• Nothing is possible without yoga since it is the union of all things
• To control the mind entirely, you must control your five senses
• The road of the yogi is to find out who he is
• When the body and mind are aligned, the yogi is awakened
• Yoga makes you detached from the impurity and towards the pure
• The goal of asana (yoga postures) is to give freedom to the body
• Hatha yoga (which is the yoga we are practicing) is the mother and father of all yoga
• The union between the Atma (your soul) and the Paramatma (Supreme Soul) is the purpose of yoga
• The goal of yoga is to research and understand the soul, body, mind, and breath
From my Anatomy & Physiology class here is the Shat Kriya or the five ways to clean your body:
1. Nati: This is the process of cleaning your nostrils so you can connect more deeply with your Prāṇāyāma, your breath, by clearing all nasal congestion. You use this tool (see below), place a teaspoon of salt and warm water inside, shake it, and then tilt your head to the side while you’re sticking the end of the instrument inside of the nostril facing up, while the water comes out of the other nose. After pouring all of the saltwater in one trunk and allowing it to come out from the other, you bend over as if you are tying your shoes, and you blow both nostrils to release all the saltwater and any mucus left behind. After, you instantly feel more connected to your Prāṇāyāma.
2. Gajakarni: This process of self-cleaning is where you force yourself to throw up by drinking 10 - 15 glasses of saltwater consistently. You then bend over, gently press the stomach with the left hand, followed by allowing the body to then release both the saltwater and accumulated waste out. (FYI - this is one of the ways elephants clean their insides when they are ill.)
3. Kapala Bhati: This process is believed to be able to clean the brain. You inhale fully up to the navel and then exhale with full force repetitively (you repeat this process 80 times). Your inhale will come naturally, but your exhale should be deliberate and forceful. This exercise is believed to sharpen the thinking ability and to completely clear the brain of its roaming thoughts since your focus becomes on the breath.
4. Tratak Kriya: Here is where you would stare at a candle in a dark room for over 30 minutes. It supposedly helps with strengthening your sight, your concentration, and brings peace to the mind and is excellent preparation for meditation.
5. Basti: Here is the process of cleaning the inside of your anus by a particular oil you would suck up and retain in it for approximately 30 minutes. The teacher didn’t get too deep into this process, as I am sure you can understand why.
In my last two classes, we are learning how to teach a yoga class where we learn how to instruct those who either have an injury or have to modify their bodies for a particular position. Then we spend 4 hours Monday through Saturday practicing the asanas or the different postures in yoga to strengthen our knowledge of the art. Given this is my first time practicing the discipline, I have had some difficulties with adjusting my body to the various positions and transitioning to another. I also have struggled with focusing on my breath since I am either in some form of discomfort or out of breath. However, each moment I get frustrated, I think about what my philosophy teacher said: “Yoga shows you who you are,” and since I am tenacious, I wipe the sweat from my brow and try again.
One of the most beautiful things I learned while doing yoga is how I have become more one with my body, which also means I am learning to love myself in a more profound and meaningful way. It is too familiar while doing the discipline to see the next person be able to emulate the asana to a perfect degree than you can, and you then begin to compare yourself, maybe even some envy arrises. However, what I have learned in my classes is because no two skeletal structures are the same; there are some postures others may be able to do to a higher degree simply because of the way their body is shaped, just as there are asanas I can do without any concern.
The notion “my body is my temple” has deeply resonated in my heart as I have come to an acknowledgment and an acceptance of my body’s limits and abilities. While I am doing the practice, there ceases now to be an envious spirit, but rather, an appreciation of the differences in my peers and my physique, and thus our yoga capabilities. Yoga has also helped me nourish self-love by bringing internal union by connection with my Prāṇāyāma, body, and my mind. There is no time to focus on others or to allow my mind to wonder since I am being forced to focus either on my breath, the stretch, or changing the position. I have found the more in-depth the union between all three; the greater one becomes engulfed in self-love.
A few days ago, we were brought to Vashistha Cave, an ancient cave where the great Sage Vashistha meditated and lived. This was the first time I had been in or even seen a cave, so when we approached the gloomy tunnel, my senses were entirely focused. As I walked in, the cool breeze, emanating from its entrance, sent chills up my spine, the silence was, in fact, too loud; the smell unique but straightforward, and my eyes gave way as I walked deeper in until I beheld a small candle near some flowers. I settled down into my meditation posture, took a deep breath, and scanned with my weak eyesight the others who appeared to have already transcended this world. Then, before I could think about what was transpiring, it felt as if my mind went completely blank. No thoughts, no fears, no aspirations, but instead, there was this internal quietness, this inner acceptance, and my self-love illuminating inside.
This was a moment where if death gently tapped my shoulders and said it was time to go, there would have been no quarreling, no questioning, only the quiet footsteps of my soul departing from this world. I became mindful of my breath only when I forgot it since I had, in my mind, transcended this existence and felt the tranquility that must overwhelm one when they do cross over from this life. It was a feeling I will never forget, perhaps one I will never experience the same way again.
The following day, everyone woke up at 4:30 a.m. to drive 45 minutes up the hills to watch the sunrise. After making it to the top, I positioned myself against the ledge, connected with my Prāṇāyāma, and just sat and waited. I began thinking about a few nights before when I cried myself to sleep since I was feeling maybe I bit off more than I could chew with this nine-month journey of self-healing. Between my feelings of loneliness, vulnerability, and being emotionally stripped, I laid in the bed not only physically naked but also spiritually, which precipitated a river of tears to flow until my mind dosed off. In this same breath, as the sun’s rays began to kiss my lips gently, I then thought about how I am on this pilgrimage not only for myself, but for all those children and adults who will look to me for guidance for their internal healing. It was then, as the sky slowly illuminated into a bright orange color, my spirit began renewing its strength, for this entire journey began to make a little more sense.
As the sun’s rays strengthened, I couldn’t help but compare the moment to a groom waiting for his bride to walk down the aisle: The warmth caressing me was akin to the moment the wedding music plays announcing the bride is coming; the sky changing colors were similar to the full range of emotions stemming from all of the wedding attendants; and, as the sun, with its majestic beauty, dimmed the eyes of all of us who were waiting for its arrival, so the same occurs as the groom’s eyes begin to get watery from his bride’s allure coming down the aisle. The feeling of peace, of beauty, of love, was ever-present at this moment, just like at a wedding.
I will be in Rishikesh until the 28th of November. I will decide on the next place I will travel to in India three days before I depart. Until then, I will continue to learn as much as I can with yoga, giving each asana the patience, focus, and breath it needs.
Final thoughts: If you aren’t already practicing yoga, I highly recommend you try a class so you may experience too the self-love that awakens when you unearth the beauty of your temple. One of the first steps to self-love is appreciating wholeheartedly the distinctive body God has given you. For, in His eyes, you were so precious and unique, He gave you your personal fingerprint and skeletal design. So, don’t compare yourself to anyone else and love yourself entirely, so others may see your aura of self-love and want to emulate. It is then we’ll create a world filled with people who genuinely love themselves, and therefore, others!
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| Here comes the Sun, also the Bride. |
If you can, PLEASE donate here to keep me here in Asia on my life-transformative journey. Every dollar makes a difference <3:
Take gentle care of yourselves, and of others.
With love and gratitude,
Demetrius T. Napolitano
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