No right, No wrong

It's exactly 08:17am and I've arrived in Delhi. Sitting on the second floor of mustards food junction, which looks out over the forecourt of New Delhi station, I have just had a sweet lassi, and I wonder what to do next, as some faint traditional indian warbling voices sing in the background, a sign on the wall makes me laugh, and the ac blows on my neck, and I realise I have grown accustomed to the warmth of this country.

I sit here feeling relaxed and content, although slightly self concious of looking "idle", it's the first time I have been alone in India, with no one to answer to, no one to consider when thinking about strategical decisions, no one to tell me what to do. Just me, my overweight backpack, and crackers my teddy. I can't tell you how good this feels. I realise it's a combination of things, of letting go of the team, of leaving an adrenalin filled romance behind, of falling out of the chaos of Varanasi, and into the recognisably more ordered Delhi. Watching the commuters and drivers of various transport methods swamp the forecourt, it has just dawned on me how crazy Varanasi is. The roads are something else, and I had settled quite comfortably into it, riding on the back of a motorbike, squished between bullocks, rickshaws and auto's, driving the "wrong way" around roundabouts, but snuggled quite comfortably up against a young man who has settled deeply into the romantic crevices of my heart. 

Benares and the people in it have changed me. I am feeling so humbled and gracious for the people I have met. As I travelled on the sleeper train from Varanasi to delhi, I felt such a sense of relief to be alone, to have some space to reflect and write in my diary, and digest the last few weeks. 

The festivals

The parties

The happy holi ritual of painting eachothers foreheads red, whether you know one another or not...

The endless chai at kashi's coffe shop, the place to go and bump into any friends, or make new friends. In fact I spent so much time there, sitting nervously at 6:30am in the morning, waiting to teach circus or do taekwondo, it was always a great opportunity to catch the morning sunrise and happenings along Assi ghat. This is my favourite time of day.

 

I also took up the bad habit of smoking there, and spent many afternoons with my dear friend Ashley, smoking, chatting about life, getting dosed up on lemon, honey & ginger tea or the infamous Chai Aspecial, Served by the very sweet and straight down the line, Kashi. Wedding processions would float by with beating drums, on the way to bless their union down at mother Ganga, or bullocks would labourisly walk pass in there packs, and sometimes scruffy young children begged for food and money. Yet I also felt a huge pool of drowning sadness at leaving, and so, despite the rising heat in Uttar Pradesh that the locals have warned me about, I will go back before I return to the UK. Part of me wonders if I'm bonkers, another part of me just wants to live life. I know I don't allow myself to fall in love with people or things, and act from that place, for fear of being seen as foolish, for fear of feeling shame. I am in love with everything about this place, and I want more. But first things first, I must go on retreat and give up smoking!!!

Just a few days ago we were enjoying Holi! Apparently the most wild place to celebrate this festival is Varanasi, and I can tell you it's like nothing I have experienced before. First of all, it's not safe for women to go out alone. Most men will be drinking, and the firewater is pretty strong out here. Team that with a particularly archaic view of women and their rights by a large proportion of men, and you have a recipie for sexual harassment and perhaps worse. Though I am by nature quite shy, I don't stand for any shit, and don't like to be hemmed in or told what to do, hence my mothers nickname for me "little Pirhanna". So after playing Holi with ashley on our rooftop, looking down at the street, I said to ashley, "come on, let's go and check it out, it doesn't look too scary down there". Part of me wondered if the men were just scare mongering us in the run up to the festival, advising us not to go out alone as women, so the men can stay in charge and in control. As we walked along the safer back streets that led from our guest house to Assi ghat, we were met by a friendly looking, small and stocky indian man, his face and arms covered in silver paint, we later found out this is a tactic to stop the bright colours staining your skin, my hair is still green and I'm continuing to scrub the remains of dye from my skin today. He was holding hands with his other male comrades, as all the indian men do here, and they stopped to wish us a happy Holi. Him, his friends and all the children excitedly created a waterfall of blue and red liquids over our heads. He offered to escort us safely around the streets, not letting us go out alone. Turns out he is well know in varanasi and has a black belt in some form of martial art. We struck gold, he was trustworthy, his name was Vijay and he knew all the best Holi parties for the foreigners to go to!

We walked along the main streets, whilst vijay and his friends encouraged us to stay in the middle of the group. No other women walking the streets, just lots of men, throwing colour, with intense blood shot glassy eyes. It was on this day I really experienced how much of a man's world India is. Especially Varanasi, it's an intense place, where men are in charge, and I can't help but think, "for Christs sake women, if you just all come out on holi, in your groups, then there wouldn't be this thing that women have to stay indoors, it's that simple" but perhaps it's not, I don't know, so maybe  it's time for me to think about women's education in Varanasi, and how I could be a part of that. Any excuse to return for one month more, to continue falling head over heels in love with a man that is too young for me and impossible to date. Sigh!

So, in Varanasi I have been a bit of a man magnet, and as I've been single for quite a few years, this has felt great, although a little tricky at times. Men of all colours, cultures and ages, it's been quite a fine bazarre to be milling through, laughing and haggling. A stroll along the ghats with ashley one evening, ended with her saying, "you get so much attention". I thought it was the same for everyone, and shrugged it off as having blonde hair, but ashley openly and generously reflected back to me my nature, alive, bubbly, and connecting. Varanasi brings this out of me you see, it really makes me feel present. On the other hand, Varanasi hooks right into my dark places, gripping tightly onto my fears and pulling them up into my face, slapping them from one cheek to another without any respite. I hold on tightly, clench my molars, lean forwards and battle through, face thrown from side to side with my age old fears, again and agin, spit flying, sweat dripping, and I stamp one foot in front of the other, finding my ground, growling, but I make it through, and on the other side of this animalistic trek through the underworld of the great Benares, is something beautiful. Colourful and free, alive and unselfconscious, spontaneous and connecting. 

The places we find most challenging are where the fruits are hidden, I believe. Though that doesn't mean I saddistically stay in places I don't like all the time. There has to be something special about the challenge, some colours beyond the mud. Often it's a feeling I have, an instinct, which I am learning to trust more and more as I travel through India. I wonder how much of this male attention is what draws me back to Benares? Like all humans I am driven by sex and food, both of which I know I have a complex relationship with. I am not sure if it's the right thing to go back to Benares, and I am attempting to investigate my intentions, but it's not easy, and I am wondering if finding THE ANSWER is actually the answer! Perhaps a more gentle navigation will take me somewhere?

After having learnt to look after myself from a young age, I have spent many years trying to do the right thing, I am almost militant and obsessive at times about making the right decision, about being seen to be "taking responsibility", the "BIG R" as my therapist and I have gently and humourously named it. We laugh together each time I come to the session saying "so and so just ISN'T taking responsibility". The more I go on retreat, the more I dive into my spiritual practice, I slowly learn what it is to be responsible, to allow others to live their lives and to find a seed of stability within myself. So I have an overwhelming amount of passion towards Benares and the people in it, and I will go back, and it may be the wrong decision, and I may fall head over heels in love, but I have never allowed myself this before. So, I hope I can remain loyal to my resolution today, that the decision is just the decision I make. No right, no wrong, just a decision. 

The Varanasi Heebie Geebies

 I need to meditate, but somehow I can't manage to get myself to the cushion.

I have given up chocolate,and somehow taken up smoking.

I was coming into acceptance of my body, but now I obsess about not looking beautiful enough, and film myself dancing, semi naked, to see if I can appease this self loathing.

This picture has only made the loathing worse. Those who go for refuge to beauty, end up feeling ugly! 

I had found some peace, and now I am overwhelmed by anxiety.

I need to come back to myself, and this morning I feel like I don't know how. So I have decided to write. 

I am attempting to find some control over my experience. I am very happy in Varanasi, I love it here. But I am also engulfed by something that I can't quite manage to shake off. I think I need to mediate, or sleep, or stop. What I need to stop I don't know. I'm blown around in a typhoon, partly wishing to be at home in London, in my bedroom, looking over the green garden and hearing the movements of my housemates shuffling though the house, the familiar trips to the toilet, and the chanting from the shrine room above me, sometimes opening my heart, sometimes getting on my nerves. Another part of me feels overwhelmed at the idea of leaving on a train for dharamashala next Thursday, I don't want to leave. This is not the same feeling of being homesick that I have had so far on this journey. 

Next week I will be heading to the foothills of the Himalayas to attend a silent meditation retreat for ten days before meeting one of my dear friends Lloyd, who will travel with me for two weeks. I am longing for these moments to arrive, yet I am filled with fear by them. I think I need to cry, but I can't. Anxiety is rising. 

I am experiencing my reationship to men in a dark and heavy shadow. I'm sure this is what happens at home, but I have networks of friendships around me that I know and can, to a certain extent, trust. I also have my usual surroundings to distract myself, to keep me in check. Here, today, I feel like I am a burden to the city, to the people in it, and to the friends I have made. The lively, happy-go-lucky, spontaneous, cheeky cheeked part of me, so often commented on by people, is overshadowed by self consciousness. I know this is part of being In India and part of being on a transformative journey. But it's hard and I am grappling for ways to escape. I have moments of freedom, when I am dancing, when I am sunbathing, when I am engaged in something, but these last few days it's so very fragile and fleeting. It will pass, I tell myself. 

 

I look to other people around me for validation, in particular, men. I micromanage their every detailed response and tiny movements to confirm my worth. They look to the left as they talk to me, I immediately think they don't want me around. They smile into my eyes and I think they want to sleep with me. They look momentarily at me as I sit down, they must be in love with me. They say to me "so.......?" As if to indicate what happens next, I immediately think they want rid of me and make my excuses for a busy day ahead and leave. This is a tricky place to be, and I know I do exactly the same thing at home, I escape situations prematurely so that I can be absent before they abandon me. Or I hang on to a situation too tightly and out stay my welcome, ending in a deep sense of shame at my foolishness for misreading matters. No matter how much I write, reflect, do nothing, this feeling isn't passing. So I look closely and see if I can observe my actions and check in with my intentions. I sense I'm being too hard on myself, which isn't out of the ordinary for me. This is all I can do, look, sense, reflect, which I am struggling to accept. 

It will pass, it will pass. 

I want to be rescued, I want to be loved, I want to be accepted. And of course I know I am projecting this all outwards, and in fact no one can do this for me, but it's hard. I feel new emotions bubbling in my abdomen as I write this. This all consuming fear is slowly exposing some gaps for me to experience my sadness, lonliness, whatever it is. Perhaps I can go and meditate now, instead of picking up a cigarette (previously chocolate) to mask these feelings.

I will also go and find my friend ashley, a firm buddy in Varanasi, who's a gem and a half, and listens to an account of my obsessions daily. I will share with her that I have labelled this waffling, The Varanasi Heebie Geebies!

Discombobulated

Well, there's nothing like a bit of love to derail you from your inner most, heartfelt good intentions! For the past month, doing mitra study has felt like the most enthralling and engaging activity. I became a mitra with the Triratna Buddhist movement about 3 years ago, I ritually declared myself a Buddhist and agreed to attend mitra study once a week, with a group of about 8 women who have also been moved to do the same. Its' changed my life in many ways, the study can often be challenging, meeting opposing views and our own reactions to how it feels to be within a group, talking about what is most deeply in our hearts, and the day to day trials and tribulations we face in the context of our ever deepening understanding of the dharma, the Buddhist path. It is also filled with empathy, understanding, listening, laughing, hugging, chanting, meditating, talking about romance and lots of tea and biscuits. Whilst away in India I have come to realise what value this female group is to me, and I miss them dearly, even the bumpy and uncomfortable parts. Studying here in Inida, alone, without our weekly discussions has reaffirmed my decision to ask for ordination. However, tonight, all I can think about is the male of the species, in particular a 22 year old taekwondo teacher, which is a change form the 40 something's I have been romancing with over the past few years, and the allure of study has drastically wained to a somewhat dry and arid landscape with the odd bit of tumbleweed blowing past whistling the thought "oh yea, I should study".  How the tone of my desire to study has changed. What fluttering beings we are! 

Sitting down to read "This Being, That Becomes" by Divan Thomas, the Buddhas teaching on conditionality. For 6 chapters I have felt so captivated, excited, and inspired by his writing. My mind now flutters and flies from one fantasy to the next. From a singing in my heart that brings a beaming smile to my cheeks, to a whoosh of energy through my limbs that unleashes a desire to jump and leap forwards into the unknown. The words are remaining on the page, and the osmostic way in which they have previously been seeping into my imagination is now non-existent.

I feel fear. And it excites me, it has a tinge of the compulsive to it. I know this feeling very welll. I know the disasters it has been so bountifully pregnant with in the past. I know how deeply and tantalisingly destructive it can be. I also know it's what got me here to India. It's the feeling I sat with courageously on retreat last Summer as I began to create a performance solo. It's the feeling I so intensely felt as I ritually declared myself a Buddhist. I know, when used in a particular way, it can give birth to beauty, achievement, success. The tantric guru, Padmasambhava comes to mind, and I sit and write in my diary, noting these compulsions and where in the body I can feel them. I sense that over the past week I have toppled gracefully over into a pool of sumptious symphonies, submerged in a divine, sparkling, alluring whirlwind of pleasure. I enjoy this, whilst simultaneously feeling fear at the knowledge that this exact feeling has the potential to slowly and quietly transmutate into a darker energy that pulls me off centre and into obsession. For me, experience tells me this is only an inevitable outcome. But I also know I am a human being just as the Buddha was, and I have potential for change, transformation, growth. This deep groove of habitual romancing feels much bigger than me and my capacity to manage it, so it's time to button down the hatches, fill my stores with kindness and awareness, and have faith. 

I remind myself that on the 20th of march I have to leave Varanasi, and leave this "love" in the holy city. A city where devotional song wakes me at 5am every day, ritualistic bells along the ghats clang at dusk as the darkness draws in, the endless spray of colourful sari's and prayer brings a continuous smile to my face and presents a gift of my belief and faith in humanity. For the first time in my life, I have some foresight that joins me and my desire for quick bursts of  pleasure, that serves to avoid loneliness, boredom, myself. I am preparing myself to love and let go. After all, the affirmation says, if we truly love someone, we let them go! I know what they mean but, really?????? The idea of that drives me bonkers. 

Every relationship I have ever had has ended with me being dumped, even the ones who I didn't really like, the ones I would talk to my girlfriends, explaining quite dismissively, "ummmmmm yea, I'm not really sure, I don't really feel that thing, but I'll just give it a go, why not" then perhaps a few days later they finish the relationship with me. I'm left crying in the corner, despite my previous apathy, I feel wounded, abandoned, worthless and despairing. Whether I want someone or not, I always, without fail, want them to want me. As I write, I realise how absurd this is, how selfish in fact, but I know I will feel it again and again. Awarenss and kindness are the beginning steps to transform this pattern. I sense resistance, and a desire to fall wildly in love and to be swept off my feet by a knight in shining armour. That age old and quite useless fairy tale. 

Alongside this love story, another thread continues. One of challenge, distress and conflict, and yes, if you've been reading my blogs, you will have guessed it, it's team PWB India. It's week 9 and we continue to storm, relentlessly. For me, however, it's much less painful than it has been for previous weeks, perhaps it's the new found romance and taekwondo classes, either way it's a huge relief not to feel wounded, responsible, blamed. I have come to the conclusion that there is an almost irrepairable dysfunction within the group, unspoken complexities lie deeply and an underworld of resentments fester. This week I can see the depth and vastness of the deep rooted layers of messiness that exist within the team for what it is, as opposed to it being me, the damaged one. The one to point the finger at. I have begun to let go of feeling responsible for this endless terrain of mountainous boulders and hard hitting hail stones flying through the atmosphere. I can see it's a result of the collective, and hopefully I can began to move away from individual blame over the next few weeks. 

However what is difficult for me is my need to blame. I have spent my life blaming myself and others, in an endless journey of polarisation. A constant whisper has danced behind my back, telling me I am not liked, I am the odd one out, I'm not wanted here, I don't deserve to be here. It's a mischievous voice, cunning and crafty. It moves with speed and haste, like the small framed Indians in taekwondo. Centres' of gravity poised and strong, ready for their opponent, and at the right moment energy explodes forwards, backwards, sideways. Darting about with assertion and certainty. The untrained student flies around in response, out of breath, panting, limbs flying, always 2 steps behind, but with a consistent practice she will improve. So I know, with consistency in a skillful intention I can manage this whisper. If I meditate, if I make the effort to pause in my day, if I take time to reflect, if I don't over commit myself, if I can find moments of generosity and kindness. If I can just "be" with fear.

So, it is with sadness yesterday I announced my departure from the team. I will continue with them until the end of Varanasi but I will not join them for the project in Darjeeling. It has been a very tough decision to make, and I feel quite stirred up by the past weeks events. One team member left the team earlier this week, she is staying in a guest house around the corner. I helped her move and I check up on her every day, and the majority of the team continue to isolate her, ostracise her. It saddens me so much to see this happen. After all we are in India, away from home, with no one but each other.  I find it disturbing that four men boldly and immovably stand against one other woman, in a country where being a single white woman can at times be overwhelming. For me I see a display of ego, which I myself am also prone to. It saddens me so much to see this happen, and if anything, with hindsight I am sure something valuable and learned will come from this. As a result I have decided I can no longer be part of the team. With all the good intentions in the world, with the ideals of awareness and kindness, I don't feel able or evolved enough yet to be able to meet this situation with those qualities, so it seems the right time to leave. 

For all the generous people who donated money, this all remains with PWB, going into the charities projects. Despite this team malfunction PWB are doing beautiful work, and the money is always being well used and creating opportunities for vulnerable children all over the world. I have had a sublime time with the children, and I am so very sad not to be able to continue with the work, but I feel it's the best for all parties involved. I will take my three week break as usual, and for the final month I plan to find a women's empowerment organisation to volunteer at, or I will go woofing (volunteering  on organic farms) in the hills. Who knows what the future holds? I feel sad, vulnerable, relieved, excited. I hope to find some acceptance and kindness towards the last weeks events, and I look forward to continuing this adventure, as I now move through the heart of my journey, dancing through India!