Rishikesh, India In All of it’s Glory

There is a place they say is holy. A place where yoga was created. A place where there is a river that is magical and people bath in it. A place where ashrams line the streets, Sadhu’s roam on every corner, cows casually pass you by and tourists come from all over the world to become “enlightened”.

This is where an American yogi expat must adventure.

I was hesitant to book this weekend trip, my first adventure North of Delhi. Not sure what to expect except what Google described and what I have heard from passing travelers. I scoured Expedia and Stayzilla for hours trying to decide where to stay. Should I stay the night on the Ganga like a true tourist or go up into the mountains and find sanctuary there? I finally landed on Yoga Niketan by Sanskriti (http://www.yogniketan.in/)and went for it. This place was right on the Ganga and was a self-proclaimed ashram with free yoga in the morning. The price was fair and the views looked amazing.

The morning of the trip I started to feel excitement, we hired a driver to take us on the long 6 hour trek from Delhi to Rishikesh. Jesse, our amazing taxi driver, loaded us up in his little car and off we went.

Jesse would stop and explain the culture of each town as we passed through. One of the cities was strictly Muslim and he informed us that each man had 2–3 wives with 10–15 children. He further explained that the children didn’t go to school but rather learned to be laborers for their entire lives. The history was fascinating yet I was engrossed and distracted by the landscape. Each passing mile (or kilometer) had such riveting things to look at. Small brown monkeys walked the streets, impoverish looking children knocking on the window making hand gestures to give them money for food to eat, Men walking by at the toll stations asking you to buy a slice of coconut, dusty cities with store fronts that had no electricity and older men sitting outside chatting with their friends. I saw Women walking with several children, some in her arms others latching to her hands and signs with promises of an elephant or tiger sighting. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the road.

Little city after big city through traffic jams, cow maneuvering, a quick stop for coffee and 7 hours later we made it. In all of its dark evening glory, we had arrived in the Holy Land that is Rishikesh.

The hotel was all that the Stayzilla had promised. A view of the Ganga, a modest room and pleasant staff. I immediately jet for the balcony, where my face was met with a soft breeze as I opened the old wooden door. The light sound of the water lapping on the stairs, an occasional honk of a horn, a cow sleeping right in front of my balcony and I immediately felt what people had spoke about. I had an overwhelming sense of calmness. A deep feeling of warmth that I cannot put into words. I felt at home.

I went to sleep that night excited to see the view from my bed in the morning. I fell asleep only to be woken up in the middle of the night in tears. I had a dream in which my father, who had passed away 5 years ago, made an appearance. This was not the first time this had happened but this seemed so random, so out of place. I noted the dream and fell back asleep. I was then awoken again just moments before my alarm to the song “Neon Moon” by Brooks and Dunn being played in my head. This was my Fathers song and in that moment I knew he was there with me. He was helping me heal, guiding me along my path, assisting me in exposing my heart to the world and in all places but Rishikesh. This opened me to experiencing my trip in a whole different, more deeper way.

When I finally processed what had just taken place I walked the 4 steps to the balcony and closed my eyes. I felt a love I never knew existed. Everything seemed brighter and right as if everything in my life was in complete and perfect order. All of the struggles, the tragic events and heart break made perfect sense. They all brought me to this place, to this balcony and in that moment I felt free.

That morning I drank my coffee overlooking the Ganga with a new appreciation for life.

In the glorious two days there, I took yoga classes on the grass overlooking the water. I saw people from all walks of life wandering past. I met a woman who had no arms yet made a living drawing pictures with her toes. I meditated at the foothills of the Himalayas and sat with my feet in a cold beautiful stream from a waterfall. I ate at an organic cafe that was full of European yogis and journaled by a pool at the Dewa Resort (http://www.dewaretreat.com/) and lastly fulfilled a life long goal of petting a baby cow.

What I can conclude from this trip is that some type of unexplained healing took place there. Something happened that I cannot explain and all I can say is that I came back to Delhi with a full heart and a clear mind.