‘Life’s boring when you know where you’re going’ mocked our cheeky guide Jay, making light of the death defying moment when our coach driver attempted a dangerous u-turn on the edge of a cliff. A profound observation amidst the chaos was perhaps an apt prelude to what lie ahead as we made our way through the bustling city of Rishikish to commence our spiritual journey of India.
We breathed a sigh of relief upon safely entering the gates of the 107- year old Pool Chatti ashram. This former araveydic hospital was serenely surrounded by lush rainforest that sprawled out to meet the banks of the sacred Ganges river. These were healing waters that crashed straight off the mighty Himalayan mountains and made their journey downstream into full hypnotic view of the ashram guests who stood wowed by her powerful presence.
The ashram was no-frills but boasted bohemian charm with small Hindi temples, eclectic plants in brightly coloured pots, whimsical water features, ganesha and books written in Sanskrit hiding on dusty shelves. Steep concrete staircases led to spacious brightly-lit yoga rooms and a well-stocked library of wall-to-wall books on wellness. The bedrooms were located in two-storey blocks, facing the magnificent views of Mother Ganga. The shared bathroom was to be the scene of much hysteria in the mornings as there were no showers, so buckets of warm water were to be shared amongst the group so we could each have an ‘elephant shower’ — tipping hot water over heads like an elephant does with its trunk.
I was on this spiritual journey of India (with some photography tuition thrown in) accompanied by an entourage of soul-seeking yogi’s, led by ‘Guru Jay’ as we affectionately called him. Jay was a young Aussie ex-pat who charmed the masses with his impressively fluent Hindi and deep knowledge of India’s history, culture and religious sensibilities. He was a professional photographer too and had agreed to take me on photo shoots to capture the chaos and push through my creative boundaries. He challenged me to deeply look at a scene and mindfully soak it in before grabbing for the camera.
I was late 30s, single and had no idea where I was going in life. You could say I was ‘searching’ for something or hoping to make peace with myself and find acceptance within. I didn’t understand what spirituality was, nor if I was capable of adopting it but I was determined to open my mind and let my heart take charge.
There were rituals and rules at the ashram including silence in the public areas, no alcohol, and only vegetarian meals. It was a strict schedule that I had to psych myself up for. Thankfully, I was experienced with the meditation side of things, and I was okay with a bit of silence. However, what frightened me the most was the thought of yoga not once, but three times a day! And the nasal cleansing had me slightly petrified.
The Jala Neti is the original Sanskrit description for the cleansing of the nasal area. In India, this traditional ayurvedic procedure is known and highly valued for cleaning away bacteria that causes all sorts of infections. It basically involved putting warm water into a little water jug (not dissimilar to an ironing jug but with a long spout) and shoving it up one nostril to flush out the contents of your nasal passage. This first-time nasal insertion took some courage. There was a performative process around this. It took place outside in the freezing morning air, as everyone lined up in silence around the fireplace, clutching their jug and a towel as the urn heated up. Upon receiving some warm water in our jugs we had to then scurry off to a private part of the garden to carry out the deed. I watched closely as others got straight into it – snorting, sniffing and spraying water everywhere. I watched like a hawk keen to master the technique. It was soon my turn, and with my precious jug in hand, I dashed off to the furthest part of the garden I could find, tucked behind bushes where no one could see me. Here it goes I thought. I crouched down and tried to get the head tilt right. I then inserted the nozzle up one side and gently let the warm salty water ooze through the nether regions and miraculously find its way out the other nostril. It felt good. In fact, once I’d emptied the entire jug and the last bit of water dripped away from my face, I wondered why I’d got myself so worked up about it. I smirked to myself as I soaked in this moment of absurdity - my nose blocked and the snorting noises of others still bursting from the bushes.
There’s no denying these uncomfortable feelings. They bring anxiety and fear, but you have to succumb to them and let yourself experience the transition to the other side. India was going to shock me and change me, both physically and mentally — and I was ready.
One thing I learned quickly in India is the significance of Mother Ganga (Ganges River). Hindus bathe in the water to symbolically purify themselves before rituals and prayers and even drink the water to help with illnesses. You haven’t experienced India until you’ve kneeled amongst the locals at an evening aarti ceremony that takes place by the river. I went to my first aarti in Rishikesh and later in Varanasi. Taking place each evening alongside Mother Ganga, I witnessed the flame bearing choreography of priests performing their rituals. This was accompanied by the sound of bells, drums, cymbals, and Sanskrit mantras. Onlookers chant Hindu mantras and pay homage to Lord Shiva. It’s a momentous occasion with families bringing balloons, eating special treats, and dancing together in elation. The community spirit was alive, and I felt connected to something greater than myself by just being there.
But to fully understand the power of Mother Ganga, I’d have to take the plunge. This was just another terrifying part of the ashram experience – especially because at this time of year, the river is freezing cold. I stood silently, alongside my ashram amigos as we spread out along Mother Ganga’s shoreline. The ceremony began with the chanting of ‘oh ganga mai, ganga mai, ganga mai mai’ on rotation, as we each clutched a small floral bouquet called a ‘Diya’, which would be our offering to Mother Ganga. After half an hour of chanting these same lyrics by the river in unison, my lungs were getting drained, my voice would waver and then all of a sudden find a second wind. We couldn’t stop singing, we had to keep going, repeating the same phrase, over and over again. It was straining and I wanted to stop but each time I wanted to give in, I’d look around at the others and see that they were still going, so I did too. We were in this together and the sound we created was beautiful and powerful.
I started to feel something. My heart swelled with what could only be described as a pure and intense feeling of connection to my inner self, the others and to this place. I let myself go and gave myself permission to sing louder and feel the vibrations within. For once, I wasn’t looking at myself in third person worried about what people would think of me; I was grounded and focused on this moment and my reverberations. Soon, I wasn’t straining at all, I was getting pure joy from the experience and was almost hypnotised by the vibration of my own voice. Was this my spiritual awakening?
The next step involved entering the water. I exchanged a smile with my comrade next to me as we took our first step towards Mother Ganga’s icy embrace. Still singing, and still cradling my offering, I carefully negotiated my way over the slippery rocks and awkwardly struggled to keep my balance as I waded through the water fully clothed. Once in, I took the required three quick squats ensuring my head was fully immersed, before leaping up for air in exhilaration – the ritual now complete. Freezing to the bone, I absorbed this moment with my fullest attention and watched as my diya set sail with my wish onboard.
I felt I’d turned a corner after this experience. It gave me renewed confidence to try the other activities that I was apprehensive about and nothing would challenge me now. The remainder of my week at the ashram involved a balance of programmed activities for mind and body, paired with wagging ashram activities to hitch a motorbike ride into town with Jay to photograph the colour and life of central Rishikesh. It was an incredible week. And the food? It’s always about the food with me and whilst the food was basic – lots of lentils, veggies and rice – it was delicious and my gut has never been happier. I truly walked out of there feeling like a new woman.
The spiritual tour continued to other parts of India including the Taj Mahal and Varanasi. This place was an overwhelming raw insight into Hindi traditions; ranging from the richness of divine devotion to the solitude and privilege of death. Happiness came from watching the locals do their daily yoga on the ghats, sipping chai under the watchful eye of an owl, street cricket with kids (with play stopped intermittently to give way to cows), watching kids flying bright kites or setting sail onboard a pastel coloured boat to absorb the colour and life from the water. I invited myself into an Indian wedding to photograph the bride and groom, I ate delicious Indian food, I sipped whisky from a hipflask provided by Jen – the vibrant 70+-year-old Sagittarian pal on the tour, I experienced train travel through rural areas, visited an Indian fortune-teller and even experienced Delhi belly!
I farewelled my newfound friends at Delhi airport reflecting upon my first trip to India. Did I now have a new perspective on spirituality? Absolutely. I believe spirituality is unity with the outside world and maybe a way of connecting with something beyond the material world. I think it can be cultivated from rituals. Performing in daily rituals like yoga, chanting and meditation is a formula that can create deep love, balance and good health - all aspects of a purposeful life. I can honestly say that I felt I’d tapped into a deeper part of my soul thanks to this experience. I felt ready to love (myself and others) and motivated to learn more about the discipline of rituals that allow me to ‘feel’ and connect with myself and the world. I was grateful for the experiences of this trip to ground me and provide a spiritual self-care toolkit to draw upon as I reluctantly returned to the noise and nonsense of the western world.