“You never really leave a place or person you love, part of them you take with you,leaving a part of yourself behind.”

The ring of temple bells.
The cock crowing across the street.
Melodies of early morning bhajans.

Then the ring of the our kitchen bell.
Din through the hallways as the day begins.
Black coffee.

The speech of breakfast time...
'Saka?', 'Sako.','Eita?', 'Eito.', 'Prayer marana'...

The heat, the smell of the streets.

This morning I was hit by a two wheeler.
It wasn't really moving fast.
And it was going in the opposite direction to the traffic.
Why would I think to look in the opposite direction on a one way street?

And yet, I'll miss the oblivion that people have to each other,
and the extreme sense of welcome.
The way making a fuss can produce faster service,
and bartering is a way of life.

I'll miss the sporadic monsoon showers
and the cows in the street.

And of course,
I'll miss the men and women
with whom I've shared the last 6 months (or so)
of my life.

Intensely.

Unexpected Bend in the Road or..."Ah, Toto, we're not in Bangalore anymore..."

Certainly, life has its twists and turns.

A few weeks ago, the man who means more to me than anyone in the world fell ill.

There was scarcely a doubt in my mind where I needed to be, so I've returned to the land of ice and snow - and now we wait.  

Amil's recovery is going to be a slow process, but we have faith, and accept this as just one more visitor in our guest house.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

(Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi 1207-1273)

Warriors of light and flowers and temples and love...

The past few weeks have been filled to the brim with things that I have only ever imagined (and so I apologize in advance for the considerable length of this post).

Celebrations in a temple (I am now assured a place in heaven):

(Dharmendra took me to the temple where we waited in line over an hour so that we could get a glimpse of the god. Apparently, the 7th of January is a very auspicious time, and if you look at the god on this day you are assured a place in heaven!)

a trip to a monastery:

(The Little Brothers of Jesus are long time friends of Asha Niketan, these are the fields near their new house)

harvest celebrations:

("Pongal oh Pongal"- that's what we yelled when we through some of the Pongal -a sweet rice dish- into the garden for the birds. In Tamil Nadu the harvest celebration is known as Pongal, however in Karnataka -where we are- it's known as Sankranthi. We were lead in a beautiful Pooja -prayer- by Sri Shiva Shankar, the director of our board.)

And of course, a week long stay in an ashram, and a trip to Chennai.

Let me tell you about my travels.

Retreat is something that has been a relatively new experience in my life.
I think because I grew up in one of the most beautiful places in the world, a place where many others go for retreat, the concept never seemed to leave much of an impression on my mind.
However, when I moved to L’Arche, we were allotted one week each year for a personal retreat. My first year, I had the opportunity to share in a New Assistant’s Formation – a week to reflect on and process all that we had lived in our first year at L’Arche. For me, the week was touching and insightful and left me with a renewed commitment to community.
My second retreat was an Emmaus retreat held in Montreal. It was my first week of (relative) silence, and included a great number of challenges throughout. However, the idea of walking the road together deeply resounded with me, and I was thankful for a week to spend in the company of others who were walking the same road.
Last year’s retreat took me to Taize in France. What can I say about Taize? It challenged me – made me consider my ideas about community and put them up against monastic and other forms of community; it broadened my scope in terms of communication with others; it showed me the beauty of simple prayer and reinforced my commitment to song as prayer.

Now this y ear. This year, but by the grace of God, I ended up on a retreat at an ashram in Tamil Nadu, India. Even just writing seems like something that I should have read in a book rather than having lived it.
The ashram was run by Father Korko (pronounce Koko) – a friend of Asha Niketan, and the spiritual director for Asha Niketan Bangalore. He is a Jesuit priest, and draws much of his spirituality from mystical experience.
The ashram was brand new, we were the very first retreat group.
And the setting was INCREDIBLE.
Set in rural Tamil Nadu, in a village called Kombai, against the backdrop of ‘small mountains’, a dam and numerous fields that grew mint, rice, grapes and beautiful flowers.
The ashram itself was simple, and the meditation room was made of thatch.
We spent the week practicing yoga (asanas every morning, karma yoga in the afternoon), learning about mystical spirituality, reading from the Bhagavad Gita, meditation (still one of my greatest struggles) and taking time for silence.
We were challenged to perform “Nam Japa”, which is the ‘act’ of reciting the Lord’s name with the belief that: ‘where our mind is, there also are we’; so to have the Lord as our sole focus brings us that much closer to the mystical experience of oneness with God.
The week was enlightening – Father Korko’s spiritual journey was inspiring and he was an excellent accompanier – offering sound insight and challenging my perception of Christ; challenging – I was once again faced with the fact that I remain an outsider. All of the women in the village called me “Velakaramma” which means “white mummy”, and when we went to have tea at a neighbour’s house, the lady of the house asked Father Korko if I would need to have my tea prepared separately.
Nevertheless, there was great kindness from the people of the village who showed us their houses, their fields, and toured us through the mountain and there was always something interesting to watch, including a man who climbed a coconut tree (I’m sorry that I didn’t have my camera!)
The week itself was truly a blessing, and I returned refreshed and renewed in my search for God.

I was home in Bangalore but a few days, when I hopped on a midnight bus to Chennai.
I’ll write it here, so that it is clearly documented:
I, Haley Batchilder, being of sound mind, will never travel on an over night bus again. EVER.

However, my arrived in Chennai was smooth, and I received the most wonderful greeting at the gate by Peter. Peter is a long time friend of the founding community leader of my community in Cape Breton, and we moved easily into conversation.
The Chennai community has two houses, Asha Jyoti (Light of Hope) and Prem Jyoti (Light of Love). Both houses were originally in a relatively rural area surrounded by fields, but the last 5 years has seen the city of Chennai grow up around it, and it is now quite urban.

Nevertheless, the main property (once you make it past the garbage at the front gate) is very lovely. There are new workshops (where they do papier mache, candles, card making), a new prayer hall (where we prayed each morning and shared bhajan on Thursday afternoon) and new bedrooms for the women. The property has coconut trees, and gardens-in-progress. I was overwhelmed by the positive energy of the place, and the warm welcome that was so graciously offered. Some people from Prem Jyoti:

On my second day, I ventured to Mamallapuram. Lonely Planet describes the place as “Tamil Nadu’s only true travellers’ enclave, a mix of sun, seafood and sand with a dash of seediness thrown in. But it’s much more than that. Famous for its ancient rock carvings, especially Shore Temple, it was once the second capital and seaport of the Pallava kings of Kanchipuram”. All true.

Shore Temple...

The Indian Ocean...
The rock carvings – AMAZING. What sets them apart is that they depict everyday events – people milking cows, women ‘hanging about’ on the street,etc.etc…
And of course, as is usually the case, I was conned by a number of people selling their wares. I’m just constantly in awe of the magnificent handmade items that exist everywhere – from my new leather sandals, to the painted silk, to the tiny rock carvings – the artisan population in India is overwhelming, and so I don’t feel any terrible regret for spending my money on their art.
In the evening, I returned to Chennai, and Peter took me to the beach. Beautiful. What a perfect way to end my visit.

I caught a night train home to Bangalore (note to self – ALWAYS travel by train), met a lovely British girl who I took home and introduced to Asha Niketan, and then I continued on with the week.

Chennai Central Station (I LOVE train stations!)

Life continues to be filled with many riches and I am in a perpetual state of giving thanks. I give thanks in particular for the small joys and the many challenges. I’m not always certain in which direction I’m headed, but I’m thankful for the journey.

In closing, I should mention that during our evening prayers we often pray for all those in Israel, Gaza and Sri Lanka.
And so, some parting words from Paulo Coelho…
Peace is not the opposite of war.
We can have peace in our heart even in the midst of the fiercest battles, because we are fighting for our dreams. When our friends have lost hope, the peace of the Good Fight helps us to carry on.
A mother who can feed her child has peace in her eyes, even when her hands are trembling because diplomacy has failed, bombs are falling, and soldiers dying.
An archer drawing back his bow has peace in his mind, even though all is muscles are tense with the physical effort.
Therefore, for warriors of light, peace is not the opposite of war, because they are capable of:
a. Distinguishing between the transient and the enduring. They can fight for their dreams and for their survival, but respect bonds forged over time, through culture and religion.
b. Knowing that their adversaries are not necessarily their enemies
c. Being aware that their actions will affect five future generations, and that their children and grandchildren will benefit (or suffer) the consequences
d. Remembering what the I Ching says: ‘Perseverance is favourable.’ But they know too that perseverance is not the same things as stubbornness. Battles that go on longer than necessary end up destroying the enthusiasm for later reconstruction.

For the warrior of light, there are no abstractions. Every opportunity to transform himself is an opportunity to transform the world.
For the warrior of light, pessimism does not exist. He rows against the tide if necessary; for when he is old and tired, he will be able to say to his grandchildren that he came into this world to understand his neighbor better, not to condemn his brother.

Rhymes and Reasons...

The last few weeks have been filled to the brim with celebrations, visits and an opportunity to know life here.

We celebrated the First Communion of Milka's sons - a joyous event held on a rooftop.

We visited Anand Ashram, the original location of Asha Niketan Bangalore. It's been 8 years since the community moved to Koramangala, but the men seemed to feel so at home there - touring the gardens, and pointing out the trees that they had planted and where the workshop used to be. The ashram is now a home for the elderly and an orphanage. We shared tea and songs together.

We also visited Liza's Home - a home for women with disabilities, far outside the city. The director of the home was formerly the director at Asha Niketan. The women were brilliant, welcoming and seemed very happy to join in dancing and singing. I found particular kinship with Hazel, who greeted me from behind the keyboard as we entered their home - what a surprise when I realized that she had no hands! It truly forced me to look at the world from a different angle, as she played and sang beautifully.

Thus far, the new year has been filled with many blessings.

I've had the opportunity to meet a wide variety of people, celebrate new festivals, learned to worship in new ways, and, I think, started to realize the reason (or reasons) why I'm here.

Spectacular Spectacles...

Last week I took my two day weekend and visited Mysore.
Mysore is known for its silks, sandalwood and incense.
I will remember it as the place where I was bombarded by Indian tourists who thought that I was the main attraction at the Maharaj's Palace. At this point, I looked up and realized that I was part of a photo. In fact, I was possibly the first white woman that many of the visitors at the Palace had ever seen! As soon as people realized that taking my photo was ok, I had to sit for at least 10 more before I could move along.
Luckily, some of the picture takers were also willing to have me take their picture!

My first day, I visited the Maharaj's Palace - a beautiful place that is truly the focal point of the city. I wandered around a bit, and then sat near one of the gardens so that I could enjoy the surroundings. It was at this point in time when one young woman sat unusually close to me. (I say unusually close, because physical contact in India is almost non-existent.)

Naturally, people were surprised that I was traveling on my own, and several times I had to 'mention' that my husband was back at our hotel.

The next day, I visited the Temple at Chammundi Hill, and although I had to consciously avoid all of the people who wanted to take my money ('offerings to the gods'), I did meet some nice Brits who toured with Temple with me, and a lovely family from Mumbai who drove me to the Bull Temple.
From there, I walked the remaining 700 (of 1000) steps down to the village, and went exploring the 'world famous' market.
The market was filled with colours, and smells, and sounds that made me want to sit in a corner for hours and just absorb as much as possible.
Traveling solo made the entire journey a little tiring, but I'm thankful for the opportunity to visit a new place, and to have a home to return to at the end of the day!

Love from India,
Haley.

Today...

I learned how to wrap a sari...

(With my 'gurus' Airicamary and Shamshad)

“I said to the man at the gate of the year, ‘Give me a light that I may go forth into the unknown.’”

There’s something very special about New Year’s Eve. Perhaps I feel this way because I’ve always been surrounded by good company on this, the last day of the year.
In high school one of my New Year’s Eves was spent in the company of good friends, one of whom had just had a neck halo removed after a very serious accident. I remember how incredibly thankful we were that we were able to spend that night together, reflecting on the sadness of the past years’ events, but looking forward to the new year with great anticipation.
To ring in 2005, we celebrated in New York City – complete with sparkly ‘2005’ glasses, and confetti and hugging strangers in the streets.
My first year in Cape Breton, I celebrated by sitting on a couch with someone who was to become a very close friend, sipping wine, watching the lights on the Christmas tree, and then being delighted by a surprise performance of “Under the Sea” by a young man in drag.
The last two years, I’ve spent cozied up in the Power-Donham livingroom, surrounded by a variety of faces, all of whom I have been incredibly blessed to share life with.

In addition to the good company, New Year’s Eve allows for some deliberate reflection on the past year, something that I sometimes shy away from in anticipation for ‘what is to come’.

Last year, I believe I reflected a great deal on ‘the darkness and the light’. However, this year that idea became so much clearer.
There was beautiful joy and beautiful sorrow – for which I give thanks.
Indeed, there was an incomparable richness in what was lived throughout this year, and as always, I have learned so much.
Some things that I have learned…

…there are fights that are not yours to fight.
…community is not the best place for everyone
…sometimes we must choose solitude, and experience some degree of loneliness on the journey to finding wholeness within ourselves
…true friendship crosses borders
… ‘community living’ comes in all shapes and sizes
…there is great beauty in fragility
… ‘signs’ are all around us, we must trust in our ability to read them, and then be willing to take chances and see them through
… we are each a part of the body, pieces of the puzzle, ribbons in the tapestry
…the ‘great tapestry’ cannot be understood from underneath
…life holds regrets. They must be acknowledged, honoured, but not dwelled upon
…loss and its accompanying sorrow do not go away; they linger in dark corners, sometimes dim for extended periods of time, but they remain.
…sometimes, setbacks, frustrations and tears are a part of what you were looking for

In Bangalore, we celebrated with prayer, a bonfire and a special meal (delicious paneer).
The prayer focused on:“O thou who has given us so much, grant one thing more – a grateful heart”

We honoured the ‘colours’ of the past year, and added them to puzzle pieces for our prayer centerpiece. We remembered events of the past year – gave thanks for life and love.

Throughout the evening I could hear lively voices, singing bhajans and rejoicing at the temple and at the dance school next door. And later into the night, there has been a barrage of fireworks, followed by laughter and more singing.
We’ll get to celebrate several more new years as each state has its own depending on the harvest.

And so, forward into this New Year!
With hopes of joy and peace, many days filled with side-splitting laughter, good conversations, wise revelations, new friends, old friends, true loves, wild adventures, the occasional glass of wine, tears of joy and sorrow, warm hugs, sun in which to bask, rain in which to dance, and a true passion for life.

Love from India

Haley