Menoculayshunal; Entertaining The Non-Linear

When you approach a biography, what are your expectations of it? Never mind biography - take any subject. Would it be fair to say there is a reasonable expectation of a beginning, a middle and an end? That, in progressing from one to the other, there is a clear path? HAH! If only things were indeed that straightforward.

Then again, one could simply narrate a list of happenings in chronological order to convey the map of a life or a subject. But, you know, yawwwwwnnn...

The challenge for the writer is to bring the readers along for the ride. That can be done in perfunctory fashion by inviting them on board and they can sit and watch the scenery passing by their retinas, and they may well enjoy the view. How much more can it be enjoyed, though, if - just every so often - they can feel that the ride has halted for a while and they are offered an opportunity to step into that landscape, almost to feel and experience it for themselves, albeit virtually? This is the author's challenge and it can often be met by straying from a 'straight drive'. The scenic route, side-trip approach to the picnic of revelation, if you will.

In these posts, the attempt is being made at conveying something of what it is to commit to a way of life, a course of study and philosophy that defeats comprehension even of many within its homeland. The contributing factors to that decision cannot necessarily be approached linearly. The setting of the physical and mental environments is required, as much as the geographical. It is to be remembered, for example, that this very blog came about as a result of the major event in any woman's life-cycle; herein referred to as menoplyxinaemia, that which results in such moments as the menomonomumal... (very first post).

Physically, this body and brain were in a pattern of betrayal that was challenging enough without having to adapt to new living. Yet, and this is not said flippantly at all, it was timed perfectly. Had one remained in static life, the menosoup would almost certainly have resulted in the opening of a black chasm from which one may not have been able to rise. As it was, allowing events to flow, placing trust in that flow... was rewarded with the 'cessation of flow'! [TMI warning...] Boarding the plane that left the old life behind, there was a flood going on. Double-bound to get through the first 20 hours and then double-bound again for the next 12 hours through to Edinburgh and for another week after that. Haemorrhaging is not the wrong term to use here. There was a slight sense of panic wondering how on earth this was going to be managed on an ashram where only white was to be worn. As it turned out, the panic was unjustified, for that proved to be the last flow of all. When, twelve months later, no other flow did show, that at least gave cause for minor celebration. However, what happened next was the big black hole of short-term memory failure. Not just the blank 'why's the butter in the oven' moments, but deep, dark valleys of nothingness. Not useful when much of the learning was based in memorising!

Again, though, in spite of this, the learning did seep in. Turns out that the gurukula system of cite and repeat (the teacher chants, the students copy, then altogether now and once more for a charm) can overcome failing brain cells.

Then there was the language itself. Sanskrit has something of magic about it... but more on this later.

The physical adaptation on the ashram was not so enormous. Having lived in Nigeria for some time, the idea of standards different from one's own was not daunting. As a senior, I was afforded the privilege of an ensuite room in one of the buildings which had a lift (elevator). Room 102 Chinmaya Vihar had a ceiling fan, window facing the fenced boundary, wardrobe, two 'cots', desk and two chairs. One was expected to maintain the room with daily sweeping (India = dust. DUST!) and washing of floors, keeping proper hygiene in the wetroom, doing regular laundry (shared facilities). The morning sun was conducive to spirit-lifting... and that one didn't have to deal with the afternoon sun was a definite plus. During festivals, the other cot had sometimes to be offered to visiting guests, so neatness and cleanliness at all times were important.

Then there was the discipline... oh, that four eh em bell...

A typical day at Sandeepany Sadhanalaya:

4:00 am                        Wake up bell
5:30 am                        Vedic Chanting
7:00 am                        Vedanta class
8:00 am                        Breakfast
10:30 am                      Sanskrit class (twice a week)
12:00 pm                      Chanting Class
12:30 pm                      Lunch
1.00 pm                        Rest
3:00 pm                        Tea
4:30 pm                        Vedanta Class
5:30 pm                        Snack
6.25 pm                        Jagadeeshwara Arati
7:00 pm                        Satsang
8.00 pm                        Dinner
10.00 pm                      Lights out

*The schedule is followed every day of the week except during special holidays.