Pilgrimage To India

When a yoga teacher training becomes an unintended cultural and spiritual pilgrimage to the mystical land of India.

What was supposed to be a yoga teacher training somehow became somewhat of an unintended spiritual and cultural pilgrimage. I had no expectations going there but in an effort to describe what I experienced, majestic would probably be the most fitting word for such a place as India.

As I stepped off the plane in Mumbai, although the airport wasn’t particularly extravagant, as say a Dubai, something in the most subtle and humble of ways said this is a land of kings and queens. No matter the social standing, every person I met had this calm and collected confidence like something inside of them knew exactly who they were. Without trying, they showed me what it means to hold a sense of nobility, just simply because I exist.

From the music to the food, down to their clothing, this was undeniable. Nonetheless, it is the music that captivated me most. Their voices had a reverberation that was truly unique to them; a birthright, an ancestral gift. Echos that induced a trance-like state, sending us to portals of the unknown heavenly dimensions. I heard them call it Samahdi — Krishna consciousness. Everything about these sounds that graced my ears was so foreign to me, yet I felt something inside say “I know you”.

Through the cries to a god I do not know, in a language I do not understand, I still felt a familiar presence that could bring any man with a heart to tears. From the call and shout,  to the steady rhythmic beat of the drum that compels this black body to move. India feels like a distant relative that welcomes me with open arms and a quiet smile saying,

“we are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike.” -Maya Angelou