It’s easy for me to daydream, or sleepdream, of being in India again. As far away as it is, and as difficult traveling there can be, I feel so ‘at home’ there. I don’t know exactly what it is that makes me feel that way, nor do I want to water it down by trying to explain it. It is funny how a culture that is so different than mine can also feel so familiar and comfortable. If you’ve been there, you know — it either is or it isn’t. I think the time I’ve spent in India and Nepal has had a big effect on how we live here — what it looks like, how we spend our time and money, and what is important to us and what isn’t. I’m sure a lot of people who’ve spent time in other countries can say the same.

I feel so fortunate to have a temple/ashram in our community. It’s a golden thread that connects us to India and our teacher. Today was one of those special moments in the temple room. In an instant, we were back in India. Just like that. Tulsi and I clapped and drummed and rang bells with a roomful of Indian women singing traditional songs that reminded me so so much of the village songs the women sang during Holi (the festival of Spring and colors) in Vrindavin the last time Patrick and I were there at Neem Karoli Baba’s Ashram (pictured above). The vibrations, energy and even giggles from the women occasionally forgetting words — it was the same today as then. Oh, and the voices. So full of life. I imagine it coming from someplace deep within them and back to their childhood and to their mothers and grandmothers. It would make anyone wish they were a part of their tribe or fluent in their mother tongue. Or at least just know the words. At least, for me it did.