Sunday. No class today.
Most of the group is gone today. One has gone to spread her father’s ashes in Varnasi. One has gone to South Carolina to play music with Rolf Gates at Yoga Reaches Out. Four have taken the overnight train to Ranchi for the day. Only Jeff, Mardy and I remain here in Calcutta. In the morning, the three of us do the Advanced Class together in Bishnu Ghosh’s old yoga room. As always, it is informative, fun, educational and inspiring to practice with yogis more advanced and experienced than me. We take our time and revel in this opportunity to practice here at the Ghosh school, where our lineage began. We spend the rest of the day at a big shopping center in central Calcutta doing decidedly first-world things. We see a movie, drink lattes, soda and milkshakes, get massages and eat at an Italian restaurant. I buy a couple of books (I love getting books in India) including Elizabeth Gilbert’s new book about creativity. Today brings our trip (and perhaps our existence) into sharp relief. On one hand we are living in old Calcutta, the poorest part of the city, peeing into a hole in the ground and avoiding the drinking water. On the other hand we are watching Matt Damon on the big screen and eating roasted vegetables and tiramisu. The contradiction is disturbing to me as is the blatant consumption that gives me comfort.
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This journal honors my ongoing experience with the practice, study and teaching of yoga.
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