I'm not much into travel journaling, it's all become rote to me, as I land in another place yet again. But if I'm blogging, it seems I should comment on where and how I am.
In general, when I travel, I find myself much more aware, more alert. My mind and senses are stimulated. I am turned on.
When landing in Delhi, my pick-up driver did not arrive, so I mobilized myself into a pre-paid "black and yellow" taxi. Immediately, I felt the surge that has become so familiar when I land in a new and different place. The more "foreign," the better. Chaos, beeping, mad traffic, insane driving...the loud humming motor of the puttering bumblebee taxi. Adrenaline.
But this morning, much more peaceful here at the Global Arts Village. There is 6am "dynamic meditation" which I missed, but heard the drumming and the whooping, later followed by sitar music. I showered in my lovely, tiled - saffron and cobalt - bathroom, the warm water washing away the dirt and fatigue of travel. So nice to let the warm water wash over my naked body - again a function of the sensuous nature of travel. I never feel the warm water wash over my naked body when I'm home. Fresh and dressed, I went out in the early 7am mist to sit in the thatched hut with my earthenware mug of (Starbucks Via) instant coffee (yes, I get the irony). For a few moments, I felt very, very present - maybe 15 minutes or so. I heard the birds and the plane overhead, saw - really saw - the magnolia tree, and watched the still, still water. The coffee tasted very, very good - rich and warm - and I felt it enter my bloodstream with a soft energizing buzz to my tired jet-lagged body. The earthenware cup was warm, I felt the heat transfer to my hands.
It was such a lovely, quiet, present moment. So rare, so cherished. To be sought - consciously - more often.
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