Monday, July 18, 2011

Return to India - Devbhoomi - Abode of the gods

Is there anyone who, when seeing distant snow capped peaks, doesn't pause and quietly gasp with longing and inspiration? Imagine, then, if you can, the timeless power of the world's greatest mountain range, the Himalaya, upon the consciousness of generations of Indians living in the hot, crowded, dusty plains of the Indian subcontinent. Did not Paramhansa Yogananda attempt to escape to the Himalaya several times in his early life? Did he not say that in his next life he would live there for a time?

More than this, this astonishing range of mountains which includes jungles, raging rivers, and forests of pine and rhododendron trees along with the world's highest and most majestic peaks has given shelter and birth to saints, sages, and avatars since time immemorial. Here Spirit and Mother Nature unite in a profound dance of life both mundane and mystical not found anywhere else on earth.

The Garhwal District of the Indian state of Uttaranchal is home to the Char Dham of which I spoke in the previous blog. It is especially blessed with the spiritual vibrations of God consciousness as manifested through divine beings and through the masters. Like a carefully nurtured garden, this sanctity is loving tendered with the devotion of millions of pilgrims.

When a pilgrim speaks of Shiva, the goddess Ganga, Shiva's consort Parvati, the monkey-god Hanuman, or the elephant-god Ganesha, as participating in the creation and in the play of human life there in the Himalayas there is no sense of "long-ago" or mere "allegory." The sense of the presence of divine beings, manifestations of various aspects of God's Infinite consciousness (just as you and I, are unique, if not yet perfected, sparks of divinity) is a present-tense reality to the devout Hindu. As a (western) teacher of raja yoga, Vedanta, and Shankhya (India's three main branches of wisdom), I am accustomed to viewing Indian sacred mythology in allegorical or philosophical terms.

But I was unprepared for the strikingly present-tense and devotional expression given to these stories and places by the pilgrims and the degree to which no burden of philosophical extraction weighs upon the Indian heart and mind. Not that abstractions are foreign to Indian culture for as Yogananda smilingly comments in his famous "Autobiography of a Yogi," the Indian is sometimes accused by westerners of "living on abstractions!" Rather, these divine beings, stories, and manifestations of divinity in various natural formations (of caves, mountains, rocks etc.) are very real and treasured by the devout seeker.

And, as I commented in an earlier, blog: why not? Our western, scientific minds are biased by the worldview that this earth and its natural phenomenon are the "mere" product of natural (geologic, e.g.) forces. And who would argue with that? But just as the instinct for survival is obvious but tells us nothing about why it exists or how it came into being, so too the existence of extraordinary natural formations and phenomenon is no more intelligently or satisfactorily explained by "natural forces" than is our own existence and consciousness. I asked earlier whether it is not perhaps more reasonable to assume that something extraordinary is the product of a conscious creativity rather than a blind force? What computer would randomly produce a play of Shakespeare or the Sermon on the Mount?

Is the majesty we feel when we see a great mountain (like Mt. Rainier as we do here in Seattle) merely a projection of our own subconscious imaginings? Or, did the consciousness of majesty itself produce such an awe-inspiring sight? Does the peace we feel hiking in a forest come only from us or is the forest itself a manifestation of the consciousness of peace?

Whether the personified deities or their elaborate and sometimes all-too-human stories are the precise explanation is no more the point than our ability to precisely know how or why geologic forces shaped Half Dome in Yosemite Valley! But to look beyond the material and natural manifestations revealed by the senses to sense the interplay of higher, conscious and divine forces is to seek the truth behind all seeming.

In a brief email report I sent from the Himalaya I asked my friends to imagine the mountains of America peopled by "sadhus" (spiritual seekers) meditating in caves and forests seeking God-realization? Imagine such sadhus coming down from time to time into towns and cities of America and being welcomed, supported, and honored as living examples of renunciation and as spiritual teachers.

We have mountains but do we have the Devibhoomi? (The "holy" mountains-the abode of divinity incarnate). I believe the time will come for this, too. Shrines and places of pilgrimage are needed everywhere in the world, but especially in America where the knowledge of such places (formerly) has, presumably, been lost in the mists of time.

At the same time, I was not prepared for the incredible variety and natural beauty of the Himalaya. I don't know what defines a "jungle" for although the latitude of the lower Himalaya doesn't qualify for a tropical jungle, the only word that springs to mind seeing some of these areas is a jungle. All the beauty of such an experience, even if technically sub-tropical, is to be found in areas of the lower Himalaya. We saw so many waterfalls everywhere (it was early monsoon season) that in time we stopped trying to photograph them. Some would descend from thousands of feet up and all the way down to the rivers far below.

In an hour, or even less, we would drive from a river level, surrounded by rice terraces and jungle up a mountain into the cool dripping fog and pine forests! One time I saw a home which contained the likes of mango, papaya and banana trees with geraniums, begonias, roses, and bougainvillea. Even pine trees would mingle with the sub-tropical species along the rivers. Though we did not actually see most of the wildlife (we saw two or three foxes, and many monkeys), there are tiger, leopard, elephant, bears, cobras and much more throughout this region. I was relieved and inspired to see endless natural forests still yet preserved. Wildfires occur in the Himalaya just as they do in forests everywhere in the world and we saw evidence of past forest fires (in the dry seasons). In a trek I did in Nepal thirty five years ago (in the month of May), I was blessed to experience an entire forest of rhododendron trees alive with color!

The gigantic rock walls of some of the steep canyons would rise thousands of feet high and in the monsoon season we experienced richly carpeted shades of deep green. I wondered if my "home" country of Ireland would now seem pale and dry by comparison. This rich and green lushness was one of the specific bonuses we were blessed with for having come in the monsoon. (The sacrifice was the awe-inspiring panoramas of the snow-clad peaks of the Himalaya which we could only glimpse at grace-filled moments through the monsoon cloud cover.) The other advantage was relative cool (if sometimes humid). At the tops of mountains it was like being in Seattle: 61 degrees and light drizzle!

It was remarkable how the temperature and humidity would change predictably with altitude. Since we were constantly ascending and descending mountains (going east from one river valley to the next), we could experience warm/sticky to cool/wet in a matter of less than an hour. (Hence I caught a mild head cold.)

Since this is a blog article with words and since I admit our photos could not and did not do these attempts of descriptions justice, I suggest that it would easy enough with today's internet and YouTube to see for yourself the beauty of the Himalaya.

The next blog: "we are unique, like everyone else!"

Blessings, Hriman

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

In some small way I can experience vicariously your journey because of your willingness to share your and Gita's story. What a blessing it must continue to be for you two.