A ticket to India

An Indian driver speaking perfect English, dropped Brad off at the San Francisco International Airport. Forty hours later, another Indian driver speaking less than perfect English dropped him off near an ashram in northern India.  The connecting United Airlines flights halfway around the world, and the all-night drive from Indira Ghandi International airport had him exhausted, but the driver kept him awake with stories about the holy area, including warnings about the monkeys hanging overhead in trees. Embodiments of the god Hanuman, it was forbidden to harm them even when they plundered food from unwary travelers. They had driven by the ashram where the Beatles had their magical mystery tour at the spiritual training camp of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, 30 years earlier. That had opened up this holy area of Rishikesh to Westerners, who had been coming in search for Enlightenment ever since.

Over 200 westerners, followers of American guru Andrew Cohen, were gathering for a two week What is Enlightenment? retreat. Brad spotted an organizer, and was shown to a small room, bare except for twin beds and a coffee table, that he would share with a man from the East Coast. The first meal was being prepared, and the aromas of curry and chai wafted in the cool November air.  He was on time, and the retreat schedule proceeded like a military operation. After the meal, everyone gathered at exactly 7 pm for the first meditation. Andrew sat bolt upright in a lotus posture, eyes shut and unmoving, for 90 minutes. Brad surveyed the scene through half-open eyes. People were nodding, or fidgeting, and it was a mighty task to fight off jet lag and stay awake.  A few Andrew’s closest students sat near him, also perfect meditators. Finally, he started talking about himself, and about all the rules.  Then the group broke, and Brad found his bed.

At 7 am the next morning, a 30 minute breakfast was followed by another 90 minute meditation. Andrew then opened the talk by asking if there were any questions. Brad’s hand shot up with a few others. “What happens when a Master meditates?”  he asked. It was innocent enough. He really had to know. Why would someone who had achieved Enlightenment, after years of seeking it through arduous practice, continue to sit for an hour and a half twice a day? What was going on in that mind?

Andrew looked down, then rubbed his mustache. Then he looked at Brad. Then he looked to one side. “I will answer that later.” Immediately he took another question. The session rambled on, while Brad’s mind spun, trying to figure why the teacher didn’t give a straight answer. There was a break, then lunch, then another satsang, then dinner. By nightfall, Brad had came up with three answers to his own question, and was feeling let down that he had come all the way to India to see a teacher who was unable or unwilling to answer a simple question.   He found the East Coast guy he was sharing his room with.

“Collin, are you getting much out of this?”

“Yeah, the meditations are really helping me get my mind focused. I could never do it by myself. I love it here, the food, the people. India is amazing.”

“What about the teaching? Why couldn’t he tell me what happens when a Master meditates? I think I figured it out on my own, and I’m just a beginner!”

“He’s a great teacher, just because he didn’t answer your little question shouldn’t matter. I love what I’m learning here. Maybe you aren’t paying enough attention. So why do you think a Master meditates?”

“I needed to know what is going on in the mind of someone who has – um, what he calls the perfect realization of absolute Truth. So it came to me today. Everything is happening. Or, how about Nothing is happening. Or, we could say there is just Pure Experience going on.”  For the first time, Brad was struggling to put words to the profound subject of spiritual Enlightenment, and it made his brain tingle.

“That’s cool, why don’t you share that at the next gathering?” Collin said politely, then excused himself to go for a cup of hot chai tea. Brad thought of sharing his insights with the large group. It brought an image of the strict teacher verbally shredding him, the group laughing and mocking. He found an organizer, one of Andrew’s closest students, and asked if he could speak with Andrew one-on-one. It wasn’t allowed. So, he screwed up his courage and prepared to talk.

It was the second day. During the long meditation people were more settled and at the same time more alert. There was a pleasant buzz of energy, a different kind of energy. Andrew began talking about spiritual teachers, and practices. He kept talking, for an hour, and didn’t take any questions. He concluded, got up, and walked out. It was as if he could sense Brad’s intent.  The newbie spiritual seeker chased down Collin during the break.

“Hey man, did you see that? It’s like he was avoiding getting challenged.  Somebody said he is psychic, what do you think?” Then a solution came to mind. “I gotta find another teacher. Do you know any other good ones around?”

“You’re nuts!” Collin said. “Just hang in there, you will get another chance. We have 10 more days!”  He was enjoying the retreat completely, as was most everybody. “Hey, there’s the guy that’s been going up and down the river to other Ashrams, you should talk to him.”

Collin pointed at a tall bearded man with glasses. Brad went to ask him about about other spiritual teachers in Rishikesh, and after a brief chat, he had a recommendation. Her name was ShantiMayi. Her ashram was near the northernmost bridge, Lachsman Jhula, and the last part of town before reaching the border of Tibet. He was about to get his soul stirred and shaken.