Category: yoga philosophy | Page 2

You are the Guru

Leave a Comment / asana, hinduism, mindfulness, patanjali, yoga philosophy, yoga practice, Yoga Teachers

Over the past few months of practicing in a traditional ashtanga setting, in what many people consider to be ‘classical yoga’ with a guru, I have come to the conclusion that the idea of having a ‘guru’ or single appointed teacher is outdated.

This is not to say that the old method of learning spiritual ritualistic techniques for calming the nervous system should be ignored, but in today’s age we are spoiled. We have the internet, multiple sources of information on everything from the endocrine system, to fluid cavities and storages annexes in the body, to advanced mechanical movement analysis from people like Leslie Karminoff (http://www.yogaanatomy.org/) and Ray Long (http://www.bandhayoga.com/).

It is important to have someone supervising you when you first start practicing yoga simply because it is going to be awkward. You’re going to feel weird and use muscles you normally don’t use. It’s also good to have someone who can observe your postures over time, so teachers, in general, are still very useful. But the idea of “having a guru” can be a limiting belief, can be an excuse to shove off responsibility, and can detract from your self knowledge about your humanity. When you write a solid research paper, you don’t use only one source, right? Though, there may be one source that stands out above the others, especially for the individual sub-topics you are interested in. You use the collective data as a whole to inform yourself so you can critically argue your point of view.

In other words, you are going to have favorites, teachers you like more or less than other because that is simply the way diversity and your brain works. But its an illusion. A part of the maya we are born into when we arrive. But the variety of teaching methods and different perspectives add accumulatively to the whole of your knowledge, especially with proper discernment and decision-making for what is important to you. No one else can decide this for you, not even a guru. You have to make those decisions.

Guru’s have been incredibly useful in the past. Think about the relationship between Socrates, Plato, then Aristotle. Transfering knowledge in the student to teacher fashion, 1 on 1, seems to be the most effective form of learning, for anyone. Being able to imitate makes doing things so much easier and it is essentially how we learn from each other. Have you ever had a friend with a different vocabulary that you pick a few words from and then notice yourself using? Our brains are always trying to copy, to compete, it is simply the way the brain functions. It helps to keep us alive.

So knowing this 1 to 1 relationship is key to learning, why can’t you have multiple teachers? Obviously, you will get some conflicting information, but that is a good thing! You want to be able to sort through things yourself and arrive at your own conclusion.

Maybe you want it easy so you decide to only learn from one teacher. Don’t you see how this can be limiting? Every instructor is going to have very different life experiences that you can learn from, different experiences in yoga that you can learn from, and definitely experiences that can teach you. In fact, you should consider everyone to be your teacher, in one way or another.

So in this way, we are all gurus and at the same time none of us are. This doesn’t mean everyone is going to be amazing at teaching yoga, but everyone knows things that we can learn from.

So we can consider individuals as one part of the collective guru, that is really inside of you and could probably be equated with Jung’s unconscious mind (yes, things are happening in your brain right now that you are not aware of). And with this comes a need for intense discernment, in the same way that you choose the food that will taste/feel best you have to choose the sources of information that have the most truth in them. This is how you gain valid knowledge, rather than running in circles choosing one person after another to think is the right one.

It’s up to you. It’s all in your head anyways, so use your intuition to feel what is right. Balancing between delving into a teachers system and maintaining your personal practice is always great, as is balancing between practicing by yourself and with some friends. Do what you want. your teacher doesn’t add validity to your yoga practice, because it’s all on you! With that said, if you have a great teacher, enjoy it cause that shit is the bomb too!

It’s probable that Patanjali was actually multiple people who worked together to create a common knowledge of yoga. This sounds more realistic than what the sacred texts say about Patanjali, being one man and inventing tons of yoga poses and ayurveda and all that other stuff one person was supposed to have done. If you ask me, sacred texts are all big marketing schemes for organizations to grow their influence (governments, churches, nobility, etc). You don’t see Jesus writing shit down in the bible stories. If you look at every major cultural movement in history, there are lots of people involved, not just one person leading it. Where would Dr. King be without Malcolm X and Rosa Parks? They happen in waves, with lots of groups of people involved, that’s why they are so enormous. If you’ve ever read Malcolm Gladwell, he has a great book called the Tipping Point that talk a lot about cultural movements.

So yoga is a cultural movement just like anything else. Just do what feels right and don’t put too much stock into one person. Who knows whats going to happen with them anyways? Who knows what their life is like? Yoga teaches you to take responsibility for your self so you can self-manage. Take advantage 😉

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Day 48 of Ashtanga Practice (Last Day)

Leave a Comment / asana, Ashtanga, ashtanga institute, hinduism, India, Mysore, Pattabhi Jois, philosophy, Saraswathi Jois, traveling, yoga, yoga philosophy

My last day of practicing yoga with Saraswathi Jois was on Tuesday, but I am very happy to continue moving. I am very happy with how the trip and Saraswathi have added to my practice, though it definitely evolved much differently than I expected.

Ashtanga can be grueling at time. I think this is one of the reasons that it is so liberating; challenge makes us feel comfortable where we might not have before. I missed one morning practice because I was late (I drank beer…) and practiced myself in my room. This was one of the times when I really started to realize that I am ready to teach and am not just a student anymore. Even my arrival in Saraswathi’s class was a bit weird because my practice is very unique.

A few poses have developed significantly since I arrived; I now have a full lotus pose (always working deeper into my hips with careful attention to my overused knees), the Maricyasanas, Supta Kurmasana and I can jump through with crossed legs now. In some ways, I am very happy to progress, but at the same time I realize how unimportant my physical progress is. After all, my body will one day die and decay and no longer exist. At the same time, its fun to move through new poses, deeper variations, and I will tell you that Kurmasana and Supta Kurmasana have made permanent changes to the way that I practice.

In modern yoga, there is too much emphasis placed on the sequencing of postures rather than focusing on cueing people deeper into postures. Even Ashtanga yoga can be too focused on the sequences (getting it done, rather than enjoying it) instead of the feeling of the breath moving through your body. This, in my opinion, is why yoga was invented; to increase your sensitivity to the life-force energy of breath so that you can better regulate the fluctuations of your mind. The first time I went into Supta Kurmasana, I felt like I had just placed in a prison cell full of water with barely any air to breath. It was a dark, lonely, and crushing place; if you have ever seen someone do the stretch, you can probably imagine why, but I think this first one was particularly crushing, therefore liberating for me. I won’t forget what I gleaned from those eight breaths or so in the posture; it all passes, it all changes, no matter how shitty it might be. It will change. No matter how good it can be, it will change. Just be cool and go with the flow.

I am now in Kathmandu and am so happy to have experienced India in the way that I did. Saraswathi was amazingly accommodating, very genial, and a little flexible to my unique yoga practice. I will miss practicing with her and in the shala with all of the other incredible Ashtanga yogis that wake up at the break of dawn to feel their breath coming and going.

I am thinner, lighter, and happier than when I came. Things are good, even though I was sick for a little while with food poisoning. I guess we can call the trip a success! I am very excited to come back and continue teaching and looking forward to teaching when I get back.

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The Wanderer, Part 15

1 Comment / philosophy, storytelling, Wanderer Series, yoga philosophy

This story can be read alone, or as the 15th section of the wanderer story.

You can read the first story here: The Wanderer, Part 1

or the latest story here: The Wanderer, Part 14

Tas slowly ambled through a dark forest, he was lost. He didn’t know exactly where he was, but thought himself to be outside of the monastery, in the woods. He just couldn’t remember how he got here.

Come to think of it, the only thing he remembered was flying away from Paj’s tower. He walked a bit before realizing that he was completely hopelessly lost.

He took a seat under a tree and waited for a moment, thinking of what to do next. After all, he had no idea which way to go and it was dark. He tried to find the north star but there were too many clouds in the sky, even the moon was hidden. It was so dark, shadows seemed to loom taller than usual and he began to feel hopeless.

He turned his eyes up from the ground and saw a shadow moving differently than the rest . Then heard a rustling of soft footsteps and began to look when he saw a figure coming towards him, menacingly stomping through the brush. Tas turned to get up and began to run, faster than he knew he could.

The figure behind him picked up his own pace and Tas could hear the heavy boots growing closer, tearing through the earth. Tas turned at the last moment before a tree, remembering how it was to hunt rabbits when he was younger and the figure howled in frustration when it banged against the tree. Tas kept running.

Again, the darkly cloaked man caught him, but this time was mercilessly physical, slamming them both into a tree and knocking Tas nearly unconscious, possibly breaking something. Tas moaned and reeled in agony as he tried to escape the figure’s grasp, but it was no use. The dark man pulled back his hood and revealed a pair of small, protruding horns and a darkly tattooed face. It was the second man from the dream with Paj, his name was Grethatch, Tas remembered.

He was a dark one, but he was also happy that the second hooded man was not with him. He was far more menacing and even less human seeming. And as if on queue, the second, taller and darker one seemed to pull himself away from his shadow. It was terrifying to watch, as if the dark did not want him to leave.

Tas was scared. Was he in a dream? Was this happening right now? He couldn’t remember falling asleep, so perhaps he wasn’t, but he hoped he was. The men were terrifying as they approached him, he simply waited now, trying not to hyperventilate as Grethatch kept him pinned with his arms up against the tree. But the darker man was terrifying.

Finally, the second figure spoke, hissing in between his words. “You are the boy, Tas are you not? I know you were watching us two nights ago, boy. Why exactly did you come to that cave in the light of Saturn to spy on us? Do you think of us as, criminals?”

“No!” Tas exclaimed quickly, then re-shut his mouth. He was terrified, he watched them talk about murder and monsters and terrible things the night before and he didn’t want any of that to happen to him!

Tas tried to struggle free, but to no avail. The second man simply laughed and put his face next to Tas’ as the boy struggled on the ground. “Good.” He hissed, shadows seemed to form from his mouth, then recede with his words. It was terrifying. “But you are right to fear us.”

“Grethatch. Give me the wyrm.” Tas couldn’t see, but whatever the ‘wyrm’ was, he wanted nothing to do with it. He squirmed again, to no avail. “Now Tas, I am so silly. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Melkar. I am from the far, far north. From lands so cold, that men no longer inhabit them. Do you know about the north Tas? One day, maybe you will…” the figure gave a loud cackling laugh, it seemed to pierce through Tas and have a kind of hollow emptiness to it. “This is a wyrm. It is also from the North.”

Slowly and deeply, the figure began to speak in words Tas didn’t know. Suddenly, as he tried to move his shoulder, he found himself paralyzed. He couldn’t move!

Grethatch rolled him over to his side and then laughed. He was stuck. Grethatch struck him across the face afterwards. Tas raged inside, but he could do nothing. He could only drool.

The taller figure walked slowly, forbodingly with a wriggling wyrm in his hand, but this one was black and looked to be attaching itself to the terrifying man. Tas tried to squirm, but he couldn’t. The figure walked closer until he was dangling the wyrm over Tas’ mouth, toying with him. Finally, he dropped it and immediately, the wyrm began to crawl across Tas’ mouth, finding its way down his throat, onto his should and eventually, stopped about halfway down his arm, in the elbow socket crammed next to Tas’ ribs.

Tas woke with a start. He still couldn’t move but he could feel the wyrm in his arm, it was real! The dream was real! But he couldn’t move, what could he do?

Slowly, sensation returned to his body and he finally was able to roll onto his stomach, clutching at the intruder. But then, the pain began to fade and Tas felt better. A few minutes later and he began to question the dream again, what exactly was that thing? And everything had felt so real, just like when he was dream walking. He didn’t understand.

He looked down and saw it; the wyrm was tattooed on his arm, but it moved slightly. It was real!

Tas readied himself for the morning, resigned to talk to master Fei and see if he could give any advice. Tas was terrified, what was happening to him? Had the two men from the night before intruded on his dream the same way he and Paj had done a couple of nights before? Tas couldn’t tell, but he was sure that he never wanted to see either of the dark, hooded men again.

The Wanderer, Part 15 Read More »

The Wanderer, Part 14

1 Comment / philosophy, philosophy, storytelling, Wanderer Series, yoga philosophy

This story can be read alone, or as the 14th section of the wanderer story.

Please see the first story here: The Wanderer, Part 1

or the latest story here: The Wanderer, Part 13

Tas woke to find himself surrounded by dark shadows. He was alone, but he didn’t know where.

He found a path down to a dirt road and began to walk down the side of the hill. He moved slowly, finding sure footing down the rocks and kept his eyes down. When he got to the bottom, he saw a younger man who was undoubtedly waiting for him. But he smiled when Tas met his gaze and he gestured for Tas to come.

Tas walked slowly now, he could feel the dream surrounding him, melting into inside. He couldn’t remember anything, but knew that he must go forward. He looked into the eyes of the young man who was waiting for him and gasped.

A younger version of Paj stood before him, tall and strong, but young. Tas thought he couldn’t be older than himself, but he was taller.

Paj gave him a shove and cause Tas to almost trip over himself. He turned to see Paj leaving and decided that he would give the old man a good shove in return. He quietly sprinted towards Paj until he lowered his shoulder to tackle.

At the last moment Paj lifted Tas off of his feet and threw Tas into the air to land on his back after soaring four feet into the air. Tas slowly regained his feet with Paj’s help, but his back hurt quite a bit. They sat for a moment, which was the perfect opportunity for Tas.

“So we are sharing a dream then?” Paj nodded, a grin continued to flickered from time to time.

“How am I hurt?” Tas was bleeding badly on his back.

“You get hurt in dreams sometimes, when you forget about being hurt, or wakeup, it stops hurting.” Paj said with a slippery tongue, as if it was dripping with honey.

“What if I die?” Tas asked quickly. He did not want his momentum to fade.

“Then you die.” Paj said quietly. He walked away and talked softly to the wind, “follow” over his shoulder.

Tas followed slowly, but was unsure if Paj was completely serious. After all, this was a form of magic, perhaps something else might happen that was not as tragic. Tas was quiet during the entire walk through the most crowded streets he had ever seen. Some were even cobbled, and houses towered into the sky. But he was forced to keep his eyes down most of the time to keep up with Paj, who kept a brisk pace while traveling through the unending masses of people.

Horses drew carts and cows lined the streets, chickens roamed and poked at the ground and along the street, carts pulled wares around the city and from the countryside. They continued towards what looked like the center of the huge mass of people moving through each other like a stream over rocks. Finally, they reached a small store, hidden in a dark alley, covered with muck and filthy. Paj stopped before a dirty and grungy door, but it looked ordinary as any old overused door. Paj opened it to a darker room, then grabbed Tas by the shoulder and pulled him inside. At first, Tas could see nothing; but over time, he saw the three men inside, talking in hushed voices at the back of the room.

Tas waited for his eyes to adjust, then moved to where Paj was waiting, his tall frame pressed against the shadows, listening. Tas could finally make out the hushed voices.

“You have to keep it secret if you are going to use it, Fiden. I don’t want traces of this coming back to me, I want to hear nothing, you understand?”

The man who was talking stared intently at the one that must be Fiden. Fiden stuttered, then finally said, “I understand.” His gaze hardened as he spoke and he seemed to remember his voice. “You come from the north then? Grethatch is not the name of a southerner.”

“Speak my name again, Fiden, and I will slit your throat where you sit.” Tas watched in horror as Grethatch, a hooded, dark-skinned man grabbed into his own skin forcefully and pulled a knife out of his arm. There was no blood; Tas stared at Paj looking for an answer but found the young man’s eyes to be fixed on the hooded man who Grethatch seemed to be waiting for. The third remained seated, but he just even more sinister than Grethatch, his robes were in tatters and his brow was dark and menacing.

The darker man rustled, as if noticing Paj then Tas in the shadows, then shifted back to Fiden and rose from his chair. Everyone seemed to pause for a moment. The shadow seemed to linger on the darker man as he entered the light, his face was hidden, but his gaze was piercing through the shadow, Tas could almost feel its intensity from where he was. Fiden trembled terribly as the tall man approached, then fell to his knees. His frame was as imposing as his muscles, rippled and hardened, glistening darkly against the light.

When the dark figure spoke, his voice seemed to grind on itself, rumbling lowly. “You do not need to know where we are from. You do not need to know anything, least of all anything about us. But you will find ways to… distribute.” He looked around at the storage boxes of wood crammed around them, holing them into the small cave. “All of it.” He laughed with a sinister cackle, then turned back to Fiden who seemed to be waiting some kind of punishment; he was still trembling on his knees. “Then you will travel north, and you will find a creature that is unlike anything you have ever seen. You will bring a summoning stone with you, then you will tell me when you have arrived, you know how.” Grethatch nodded. The tall man looked down at Fiden darkly, looking as if he were about to strike him with his hand. But then said slowly, “Do not fail me. Or I will kill your wife, and your three daughters as surely as the sun rises. I will talk to you when you have arrived in the north. Succeed and find greater reward than heaven can offer.”

“Thank you. Master.” Fiden said humbly, still trembling, his voice shook violently as it left his mouth. Tas finally realized his mouth was open as he and Paj watched as Fiden left the room.

Both Paj and Tas looked at each other, and Paj mentioned for them to move out of the cave. Tas lingered to continue listening, but Paj finally pulled him from the room, urgency laden in his grip. He moved back through the cave entrance and then they finally emerged from the slightly illuminated caverns into the night sky. The moon was still high in the sky, but it seemed to be less bright. As Tas continued to look around him, everything became melty and shadowed until he lay down and fell asleep.

Tas woke slowly, his body ached, but his mind felt so free, so at peace. He took a few moments before moving at all, then rose and remembered that he was in Paj’s room. He yawned loudly to wake the old man and it worked, he watched as Paj rustled awake from his deep sleep. The old man looked so different now, so old. the young sharp eyes were replaced by watery pale ones and Tas quickly forgot about the younger man from the dream.

Tas used a robe from Paj and they went to the morning’s ceremony together. Tas always enjoyed moving seamlessly with the other monks, such harmony felt so endlessly enjoyable. They finished the ceremony, the Paj waited for Fei and walked up to speaking balcony.

Before waiting, Paj began to speak. “There is an urgent matter we must attend to. Grethatch, do you remember the name? He was once a monk, you should remember if you think hard enough…”

Fei’s smile was unwaivering, even against the ferociously serious expression of Paj. “Yes, I think I remember. Kind of a tall fellow? Had a hard time with meditation?”

“well, yes, actually, I do remember that now that you say it.” Paj said thoughtfully, his expression changing for a moment.

“We saw him last night, dreamwalking in the light of Saturn.”

Fei’s smile, for the first time, faded. “You went without my permission?” He immediately turned to Tas, “How many times have you dreamwalked?”

“Only two, sir.” Tas replied immediately. “The night before last and last night.”

Fei looked up slowly, his smile returned. “We should discuss this inside, Paj. Away from the ears of the adept.”

“You think so?” Paj seemed like he hadn’t even considered the idea, but Tas’ excitement faded as he saw Paj’s expression fade into resolve. “You are right. He is too young to know the full truth right now.”

“Thank you.” Fei said, as if winning a long battle and then he sighed in relief. “We will discuss with you after talk Tas. Go take your morning lesson with Shu, he will undoubtedly be waiting for you.”

Tas looked hopefully at Paj, but found a hard gaze waiting for him. “You will learn it all when the time is right, boy. We will talk tomorrow.” He smiled, “For now, go enjoy your meditation. Do not worry yourself over the matters of old men and monks.” Paj turned away, sweeping his robes and Tas turned to leave the room and spend the rest of the day waiting for his next lesson with Paj.

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The Wanderer, Part 13

Leave a Comment / art, meditation, philosophy, storytelling, Uncategorized, Wanderer Series, Writing, yoga philosophy

This story can be read alone, or as the 13th story of the wanderer series.

Please see the first story here: The Wanderer, Part 1

or the latest story here: The Wanderer, Part 12

The sky was very dark and hazy, at first Tas was just walking along a lonely road, but he could recognize it. He continued to stare at the ground, mesmerized, he felt like he had been here a thousand times. He could see the tracks and the signs along the way and he knew them all, but he couldn’t remember where. The journey seemed to last forever, but he finally arrived at the entrance gate to his parents village.

Tas was so excited, but was careful to keep his breathing steady and pushed his thoughts back and exhaled, dropping back in.

Now he was with his mother in the kitchen, waiting for his father to finish cooking a fresh chicken. Come to think of it, he was famished, so he was happy to eat a bit of chicken with his parents in their small house. An eternity felt like a breath and Tas soon found himself at the hearth, sitting against his father’s chair, alone again in the dark night, the only light was flickering from the dying fire. He looked up at the stars as the ceiling dissolved; he felt himself falling and startled awake.

Tas woke up with a grin, his dream was a clear vision of his family and he could see all that they had been doing for the day. He sat for a moment, enjoying his own success. The night before, he had aligned himself with Jupiter, and because of the full moon, he was able to use the full extent of Jupiter’s power to see his family. Paj taught him this trick, though it could only be done on the full moon and only when Jupiter was high in the sky. Tas felt very satisfied as he woke to dress for the day, not to mention his peace of mind at being able to see his mother and father happily moving homes because of the success of the harvest in the past few months.

Paj and Tas made incredible progress in their nightly sessions, sometimes talking and reading and practicing certain meditations far into the morning. Tas had completely memorized the movement of the planets and their visible satellites in the sky with the telescope. They had bowls and cups of metal to make sounds to induce meditation and Tas had deepened his ability to perceive the his world. The moon’s cycles were becoming more and more familiar to Tas, but the moon’s powers were ever elusive and Paj was slow to teach him anything truly significant. Last week was the first exception, Paj told Tas that the full moon granted a sight while sleeping. Combined with Jupiter’s ability to travel outside of the body, it made for a powerful combination for dreamwalking, as he called it. Tas spent the night facing the direction of Jupiter in the Northwest and Paj hesitantly used the alloy synced with Jupiter’s frequencies. And he had succeeded.

Tas tested it by passively meditating into sleep, as Paj had instructed, then found himself awake in the dream. He continued to smile as he washed, groomed, and dressed himself, preparing for his morning meditations. He joined the sea of monks again, as he did every morning and after the morning’s invocation, went down to the forest to meet Shu and continue. Each day was a little different, the powerful meditations seemed to come in waves. Some days were torturous, but made him feel so great afterwards, some where easy, but made the rest of the day difficult. He had grown frustrated in the first weeks, but now he had stopped caring. Tas just tried not to think about it and it seemed to be working out so far.

He was keen to continue exploring his mind in the energy of the circle of monks. He had come to realize that there was something special about the trees, or perhaps the ground that allowed them to meditate for so long. He asked Shu a few days ago and he only responded that there was indeed something special about it, but he didn’t know what.

Shu had begun to meditate with Tas, teaching him techniques to still his breathing and slow his heart. Tas could feel so much, Shu said constantly, “you must become more sensitive. Only when you become more sensitive, more detached and able to feel your senses will you be free of their grasp. Then you will be free to feel as the true you wishes.”

Tas knew there was more than this from Yao, but he was sure that Shu was also correct in his teaching. Tas was starting to feel a nothingness, a sensation of pure bliss in his meditation, but he could only caught small glimpses of it. It was similar to how he felt with Yao, but less potent. He often remembered the night where he was starving and forced to wait and felt a sea of immeasurable pleasure and himself floating inside of its immensely overwhelming nothingness.

He spent a couple of hours in pure silence, scanning his thoughts and letting go of the night before; after he went to lunch and enjoyed his time alone. He asked for two extra servings, much to the dismay of the cook, but he needed the food. His stomach was rumbling for the past few days and he had already ignored it for too long. The meditations and lessons were exhausting.

After he finished his third bowl of rice soup, he took a few breaths and began to walk upstairs to the tower.

As he walked through the heavy, wooden door, Tas could tell that things were arranged differently than usual. Immediately he asked himself what the old man could be up to, until his shoulder was grabbed forcefully and he was turned to face Paj; the old man’s eyes were lined with fatigue.

“Last night, you prepared to travel with Jupiter, didn’t you?” Paj asked impatiently, his eyes never leaving Tas’. He already knew.

“Yes, I went to see my family.” Tas turned his eyes down to the floor.

“it was…” he sighed, returning to his mother’s laugh and his father’s confident grin.

“powerful and..” he looked up again to see Paj’s eyes reflecting his own.

“reassuring.” he said the last work slowly, letting it sink in so he could hear it himself. His family was healthy and happy.

Paj smiled suddenly, Tas could tell that he was not happy when he walked into the room. “Good, I am glad that your family is safe. Have you experienced any side effects?”

“I don’t think so…” Tas said slowly, trying to think back.

“Good. You would know.” Paj changed his manner and his brow darkened, a contrast to his white beard. “But there is something of a larger scale that is happening. The stars reflect a chaos surfacing in the West. Something is returning that is very, very old, and more powerful than you want to know.” Paj’s eyes glared and he slowed as he said them, obviously thinking back to another time. Tas was patient, but he already had so many questions.

“What is it?” Tas asked, hesitant to ask a question at all.

“Well, straight to the point aren’t we? Let’s find out.” Paj said, his gaze icy and cold, resigned, hardened. Tas felt his body begin to tremble in anticipation, he learnt of great sages who shared dreams in the manuals, but hadn’t even seen mention of techniques. Was he about to do this with Paj? He was sure that the ancient techniques were far advanced to his own elementary knowledge; at least for now.

Paj began to scuffled around, grabbing particular bowls and preparing tea for Tas with ginger, hibiscus, eucalyptus, and rosemary. “We will align with the moon again tonight, there is still small remaining power for sight. The tea will augment that power and…” he paused for long enough to look at Tas very seriously, one eyebrow rose as he finished, “will greatly enhance our sensitivity.”

Tas knew what this meant. The dream would be powerful; more powerful than anything he had ever experienced. But he was ready, his mind was empty and he was not scared.

“We will align our minds with Saturn’s rings, using the silver and iron alloyed bowls. Jupiter will also be in the sky, so we can share with Saturn’s energies and travel with Jupiter’s. and…” now he paused for a moment.

“we will smoke this.” He held up a small paper full of tobacco, some greenweed, and some other black substance that Tas didn’t know. But Tas was ready; he knew that this would be another step towards his ultimate goal and he wasn’t worried; Paj wouldn’t lead him astray.

He drank the tea, slowly, meditating as he did, saying nothing and letting Paj use the signing bowls. They both began to smoke the small rolled joint. Paj instructed Tas to inhale, but after the first one, he couldn’t stop coughing. Each time afterwords, he still coughed, but a bit less. Paj continued to play the bowls and Tas could feel himself fading into sleep; he could do nothing to stop it. Paj continued to play the bowls and create the vibrations, but was now sitting in his chair and Tas could tell that he was dozing off as well. Tas could feel himself leaving his body in the depths of the vibrations, the huge sea of vast nothingness was returning. Tas sat back on his mat in the room, faced towards Saturn and fell deeply into a sleeping meditation, where he couldn’t tell if he was awake, or asleep, until he finally succumbed to the dark of his mind.

The Wanderer, Part 13 Read More »

The Wanderer, Part 12

1 Comment / art, Daoism, meditation, storytelling, Wanderer Series, yoga philosophy

Please read the first parts of the story here:
The Wanderer, Part 1
The Wanderer, Part 2
The Wanderer, Part 3
The Wanderer, Part 4
The Wanderer, Part 5
The Wanderer, Part 6
The Wanderer, Part 7
The Wanderer, Part 8
The Wanderer, Part 9
The Wanderer, Part 10
The Wanderer, Part 11

Tas woke up in confusion, his breathing was shallow and a cold sweat laced his forehead. The soft cushions and a mattress supported as he regained his breath, finally remembering where he was from the grey stone floor of the monastery. His training was getting more intense; Paj was relentless in his teaching, giving Tas task after task and leaving no extra energy in the wake of his teaching. It wasn’t even interesting, he just had Tas memorizing patterns and movements of the stars and especially the planets. He was getting good at plotting Mercury, but the other five or six were a complete mystery. Paj worked him tirelessly saying it was all useless until he could track the movement of the six prime planets and major constellations. Then, he would learn about the planets of the planets, which granted stronger sight, but were seemingly impossibly complex. Tas was exhausted, even Shu was pushing Tas’ limits now; Tas sighed with fatigue, but he was happy to be tired. The only times he had ever worked this hard before had been with his father in the final days of the harvest.

He couldn’t remember his dream, but he could feel the intensity from the ferocious beating of his heart and felt flustered. He took his time to catch his breath and hung his head to clear and calm his mind. He rubbed the back of his neck, straining to remember. He went to his washroom and prepared for the day, taking his time, then went out to meander through the hall for the morning’s ceremony, the dream forgotten.

After the ceremony, he met Fei at the balcony, which was customary. But instead of order Tas to go with Shu for the day, he motioned for Tas to follow him. Tas soon found himself entering the Acharya’s chambers. It was full of artwork, paintings on the walls and floors and all sorts of trinkets, more beautiful than Tas had ever seen. No doubt it was the work of the monks, but Tas wondered why Fei had so many.

Fei motioned for Tas to sit on a beautiful rug on his floor and began to pour him tea. He smiled, the same beaming smile that Tas had grown accustomed to. He wondered when the monk wasn’t smiling and couldn’t hide his grin. The old monk simply smiled.

“Tas, you look tired. How have you been feeling?”

Tas hadn’t seen himself lately, but he was sure that the monk must be right, “I have been working hard, master Fei. The training here is very difficult!”

Fei laughed. He didn’t respond, but sipped his tea instead, waiting a moment. “Is this the kind of challenge that you want?”

“Why, yes master Fei.” Tas lowered his eyes, “I felt never felt so purposeful before, I focus only on my studies and learning meditation. I felt one foot begin to float off the floor yesterday!”

“Good, boy,” Fei said happily. “You’ll be able to levitate within your first year, if you keep it up.”

Tas was confused by this. A year? He was only staying for a few weeks, until Yao returned. Did this mean he could stay if he wanted?

“Paj has noticed your proficiency for star reading. He has asked that you stay for an additional month to continue studying. He says he can teach you three techniques in next six weeks time, and Yao has agreed. He will return then, as long as you approve.”

“Of course I approve,” Tas said eagerly. Everything seemed to be working in his favor now.

Fei nodded at the enthusiasm and sipped his tea slowly. They rose together and Tas left to go meet Shu in the trees.

When he arrived into the circle of silent monks, Shu was nowhere to be seen. Tas chose a tree and sat under its cool shade, letting himself drift off into his meditation, letting his thoughts, his mind, and his body go. His breath would take care of itself. He drifted off into the ocean of his mind, lost within the nothingness at his own core. He didn’t know how long he sat for, but when Shu woke him, his legs were completely numb. They walked together from the circle of trees and entered the grounds, following the path to the garden. Pink blossoms floated in the gentle wind and the water of the pond grew still as Shu sat by the edge. He motioned for Tas to do the same.

Shu spoke extremely slowly, Tas could hardly understand, but he leaned in to the monk’s soft words. “You are strong, Tas. Your meditation is so peaceful…” She looked a bit distraught, but mostly thoughtful. “You practice meditation with Yao?”

“Yes,” Tas said. “The old man is infuriating, but his lessons are invaluable,” Tas thought back to their journeys in the desert. He was excited to begin traveling again, but he was more excited to learn here. His meditations were indeed growing longer and longer.

“You are now a powerful meditator Tas, you can set aside your emotions easily, see clearly, but most importantly…” Shu looked at Tas determinedly, “You can empty yourself of judgement. This is the only way to see the truth. One of the first steps towards understanding god, is understanding truth, Tas. Knowledge is the key to understanding god, but you must relinquish all knowledge to truly know god.” Shu grinned, knowing that he was now talking to empty space.

Tas nodded, but he didn’t understand. He would learn, with time. But he knew that the monk was teaching him something valuable, so he remembered his words like a puzzle to be solved for later.

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The Wanderer, Part 11

Leave a Comment / art, blogging, philosophy, philosophy, storytelling, Wanderer Series, yoga philosophy

Tas woke up comfortably, soft cushions and a mattress supported him on the cool stone floor of the monastery. He was excited; today was his first day of training with Fei at the monastery.

He woke slowly and stretched, then dressed and prepared for the day. Fei said that he would begin training today, so he was excited to get started.”

He moved with the sea of monks from the lower levels of the monastery up to the ground level. They rose on the steps slowly, each taking their time and moving fluidly together while Tas walked awkwardly, accidentally bumping shoulders and occasionally walking a some toes on accident. But the monks didn’t seem to mind, a few even smiled when he miss-stepped. Tas had never seen men that were so peaceful.

He watched and waited during the morning ceremony, Yao was missing from the balcony this time and only Fei stood alone, reciting incantations and chants for the rest to follow. After they were done, Tas climbed the stairs to the balcony to meet Fei for training as he had requested the day before.

As he approached, Fei resumed his wide smile, looking happy as could be. Tas was very excited, though he had no idea what the old master had in mind for training. He had trouble sleeping the night before because he was thinking about what how Fei would be training him.

“Good morning Tas!” the monk said gleefully. His smile was unwavering, but it was comforting. This man didn’t seem to have any worries.

“Good morning, master Fei.”

Fei’s smile faded for a moment, “You do not need to call me master, Tas.” His smile returned in full force. “Are you ready to begin your training?”

“Yes, of course!” Tas said exasperated.

“Good! I am glad to see you are excited. You will spend the morning with Shu. He will train you in meditation. At lunch, you will eat with a very old man name Paj. He will train you in clairvoyance and astrology for the afternoon and night.” Tas looked up to see Fei suddenly look very serous, “Don’t take his lessons lightly. Master Yao told me that you should pay special attention to the astrology lesson.” Fei looked curious at his own words and Tas’ grinned. Even though the old man had left, Tas could still feel his presence, a lingering shadow.

“Thank you,” Tas said, bowing his head to the master, Fei’s smile fully resumed and was beaming.

As Tas finished walking down the stairs, a tall man with a long, dark beard approached him. His head was bowed until Tas reached him, then he abruptly raised his head to a huge watermelon shaped smile with only one tooth at the center top of his mouth. Tas almost fell over in surprise.

He regained his composure and smiled back at the monk, sure that he had made a weird face at the man. But he simply continued to smile, then took Tas by the hand and led him from the front entrance, into the grounds of the temple. Tas had spent a little time walking through the flowers the day before, but Shu led him past the garden into a thicket of trees. Sitting against the trees, monks were meditating, their eyes closed and many were using prayer beads. Some were making small rumbling sounds to themselves, others lay on the roots looking up at the leaves of the trees. They seemed to form a kind of big circle and Tas almost felt guilty breathing in it. It was so quiet here.

He slowly moved following Shu, mindful of each step, each breath, each thought. He felt as though he had entered into a different world.

One monk caught his attention, he was upside down on his head, with his feet up on the tree. He was so still, his legs did not waver or sway, but held firm, risen against the trunk of the tree. Tas took a slight right from Shu to take a closer look; he had never seen anyone standing on their head before. Tas realized suddenly that the man’s head wasn’t touching the ground. Tas was shocked when Shu took his hand again and led him further into the circle of monks. When they arrived at the center, Shu showed Tas a tree and asked him to close his eyes. Shu explained that he would return after a little while of letting Tas be by himself. “In the meantime,” he said, “close your eyes and try to feel your breathe only. Focus on it and let your thoughts pass as distractions. Return, always, to breath. I return soon.”

So Tas sat under his tree, closed his eyes and focused on his breath. It seemed to come so easily here, in the deep silence, with the monks all around him. Occasionally, he would open his eyes when he was distracted, but he felt the time slip away as he drifted into the small breeze, the rustling of life on the forest floor, and his own breath. He felt free for the first time since the night when Yao had first taught him meditation, while he was starving up in that ancient tree.

After a bit longer, when Tas was starting to get restless, Shu returned. “This time,” he explained, “You will keep your eyes open, but only on the floor. Try not to look up. Focus on your breath.” And again, Shu left him in the peace and quiet of his own breath.

For the next period of unknown time, Tas looked at the floor, seeing all manners of ants, little flies, pincer bugs occasionally, and found this meditation to be a bit easier than the first. The ants were the most interesting, constantly moving, constantly working, building, gathering, never stopping. Tas wondered why they never rested. It seemed like such a waste to work so hard and never rest.

After more time had passed, Shu returned to Tas. “Now, I will teach you how to flow with the wind.” Tas’ interested peaked. “Now you will control your breath. Count to 5 on each inhale, and 5 on each exhale. After 500 breathes, you can walk back to the temple.” and suddenly as he had appeared to Tas, Shu disappeared into the forest. Tas was a bit startled because Shu hadn’t seemed to move, but he stayed seated and began to breath.

The last meditation was by far the most tedious and at the end Tas was exhausted, but felt so free. He understood what Shu meant by flowing with the wind now, he felt as light as a feather. He left the circle of monks to return to the temple grounds. On the way, he looked to see if the man standing on his head was still there, but he was gone. Tas was so happy with his morning; surely he would learn about god here, surely this was it! The power and concentration of these men was incredible, Tas was inspired and felt as though he couldn’t wait for his meditation the following day. He wondered if that was what he would be doing.

He took his time to walk back to the monastery, but felt his feet moving much faster than he was used to. Flow with the wind indeed, he felt as though he must be moving twice as fast as usual.

He arrived into the upper dining hall to find it empty. He wondered when these men ate, he had never seen a single one eat so much as a grain of rice.

He was served a bowl of rice and some vegetables by a monk who seemed very friendly, but didn’t talk. As he was finishing, an older man with a beard down to his belt and hair as long a wispy as the clouds. Tas saw him slowly limp over, his back was hunched and his age obvious simply from the way that he walked. This was the oldest man Tas had ever seen.

He sat across from Tas without warning, and looked directly into Tas’ eyes. Tas felt himself getting pulled into the old man’s watery blue eyes, almost like he couldn’t look away. Suddenly, he saw his father, his mother, then his friends and the other villagers he had left behind, glimpses of the old man, and the city, then the jungle and finally he re-arrived where he was. All of this happened in the course of 5 seconds, but Tas felt his breath leave his body. He had just relived his entire life in 5 seconds. The old man made a crooked smile with no teeth, but his eyes seemed to show that he knew. Tas was shocked, he had not expected anything like this.

“So Tas,” the old man said warily and tired. “I know you now, thank you for being open to me. It seems as though you are on somewhat of a quest!” He said that last part with a bit of humor and awe. Tas was still recovering from shock.

“Well, I suppose I am, sir” Tas said slowly.

“Good!” the old man said enthusiastically. “Don’t you forget it!”

“Did you see my entire life? In just five seconds?”

“Kind of,” the old man explained. “a glimpse of your life. The events, but not the effect of them, if that makes sense.”

“How?” Tas asked, exasperated. He had to learn how.

“I cannot explain my gifts, as you will not be able to explain yours, my boy.” The old man laughed. Tas thought he seemed much younger when he did.

“Now, follow me. Fei said that you could use some lessons in clairvoyance and astrology. So we will learn together for the afternoon and as long as I can stay awake.” He chuckled a little, but with a heaviness that Tas couldn’t explain.

They walked to the tallest tower of the monastery, the entrance was concealed in the lower levels so it took them some time to arrive. Once they did, the old man sat in a chair and mentioned for Tas to do the same. The room was filled with books and charts, most were depictions of the stars.

“Paj, what are clairvoyance and astrology? I’ve never heard of such things before.” Tas talked in a depressed tone, he felt stupid.

“Of course you haven’t boy!” Paj said louder than he had talked before. “Not just any twat can look at the stars and the sky and know what is happening in the heavens! It takes mastery and skill, the type of which your master has in handfuls.” He grinned.

“Yao knows astrology?” Tas asked. He had no idea if he was right, but was what the old man must have meant when he said he had found Tas with the stars?

“How do you think he found you, Tas? He is completely clairvoyant, he sees what he wishes to see in the world. As I taught him to,” the old man said with a small “hmphf”.

Now Tas understood. This was one of Yao’s masters! He quickly grew enthusiastic and was impatient to get started.

Paj could tell and said, “good, now that you’ve realized that, let’s get to work.” He sighed, as if he were going into a long lecture. Now, clairvoyance and astrology and intricately related my boy. You can’t have one without the other, but clairvoyance is the obvious desire for most people. This, however, is an illusion. Clairvoyance is both a gift and a burden. As you will soon learn.”

“How do I know that I want this burden? Paj, what if it makes me unhappy and sad and angry?” Tas said the obvious answer that came to his mind, but Paj laughed.

“You are here, aren’t you?” Paj spoke as if the answer were obvious. “It is not so much of a burden, unless you use the gift poorly, for your own means.” He smiled, “do not worry Tas. I will teach you enough control so that it won’t affect you if you don’t want it to.” Paj’s eyes glinted.

Tas trusted the old man, but he knew that this would change him. He wasn’t so sure that he was ready, but he trusted Paj and Yao, so he decided that he would continue and learn the stars.

Despite the introductory conversation, the work was extremely boring. Tas spent all of his time mapping stars and planets and trying to figure out where mercury was, where Mars was, where the andromeda galaxy was. Nothing special occurred that night, except Tas got a huge headache and went to sleep exhausted from trying to memorize names, figures, charts, and movement patterns of the stars. Paj wished him a good night and told him to just return to the tower tomorrow after lunch, that they would continue their lessons. He seemed satisfied, but Tas didn’t care. He stumbled down from the tower and found that his room was not to far from the stairway to the tower. He fell on his cot and was instantly asleep, the world around him forgotten until morning.

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Lakshmi | Lakṣmī | लक्ष्मी

Leave a Comment / ancient yoga, Deities, Hindu Dieties, hinduism, history, India, philosophy, philosophy, religion, yoga, yoga history, yoga mythology, yoga philosophy

Lakshmi is the Hindu goddess of wealth, prosperity, love, fortune, and is considered the embodiment of beauty. She is the wife of Vishnu and carries his active energy. Her fours arms represent purusartha, or the four primary aims of human life: Dharma, Kama, Artha, and Moksha and representations of her can be found in many Jain monuments as well. In Nepal and Southeast Asia, Vasudhara mirrors Lakshmi with some minor differences. She is Vishnu’s source of strength while maintaining the universe.

When Vishnu incarnated on Earth, Lakshmi took form as Sita (when Vishnu became Rama), Radha (Krishna’s lover), Rukmini, and Satyabama. In ancient Hindu scripture all women are declared to be embodiments of Lakshmi. The marriage between Lakshmi and Vishnu is the paradigm for Hindu religious wedding ceremonies. Their relationship forms the basis for partnership in Hinduism.

Archeologists suggest that Lakshmi’s worship may have originated around 100BC. Statues and iconography have been dated from the second half of the first millennium CE. In modern India, Lakshmi is regarded as the goddess of wealth and Diwali and Sharad Purnima are festival celebrations held in her honor.

Lakshmi is another great example of a deity that evolved in the ancient Hindu texts and was mentioned only once in the Rig Veda as a kindred mark or sign of auspicious fortune. In the later Arthara Veda, she evolved into a deity with multiple incarnations and large amounts of plurality and is associated with good luck, good fortune, prosperity, success, happiness, and the good. Later, she is regarded as the incarnation of beauty, and the goddess of fortune and was associated with Vishnu. In later myths, she is associated with the creation of the universe, giving diverse gifts to many of the other gods (ie Indra gets force and Sarasvati receive nourishment). In the later epics, such as the Mahabharata, she personifies wealth, riches, beauty, happiness, loveliness, grace, charm, and splendor.

The word Lakshmi is derived from lakṣ (लक्ष्) and lakṣa (लक्ष) which mean to perceive, observe, know, understand and goal, aim, or objective. This together form knowing goals, or perceiving and understanding objectives.

Lakshmi is usually sitting or standing on a lotus flower and carries a couple in her hands which represent the ability to grow beautifully from dirty or filth in circumstances. She is also seen with elephants (symbolizes work, activity, strength, rain, fertility, and abundance) and an owl (symbolizes striving to observe and discover when surrounded by darkness, that also becomes blind in daylight, a reminder to refrain from greed and ignorance after knowledge and wealth is acquired).

Lakshmi also has a multitude of other names: Padma, Kamala, Padmapriya, Padmamaladhara devi, Padmamukti, Padmakshi, Padmahasta, Padmasundari, Vishnupriya, Ulkavahini, Ambika, Manushri, Mohini, Chakrika, Kamalika, Aishwarya, Lalima, Indira, Kalyani, Nandika, Nandini, Rujula, Vaishnavi, Samruddhi, Narayani, Bhargavi, Sridevi, Chanchala, alaja, Madhavi, Sujata, Shreya, Maheshwari, Madhu, Madhavi, Paramaa, Janamodini, Tripura, Tulasi, Ketaki, Malati, Vidhya, Trilochana, Tilottama, Subha, Chandika, Devi, Kriyalakshmi, Viroopa, Vani, Gayatri, Savitri, Apara or Aparajita, Aparna, Aruna, Akhila, Bala, Tara, Kuhu, Poornima, Aditi, Anumati, Avashyaa, Sita, Taruni, Jyotsna, Jyoti, Nimeshika, Atibha, Ishaani, Kalyani, Smriti and probably her most used abbreviation, Sri.

In Eastern Indian traditions, Lakshmi is regarded as a form of Devi, along with Durga or Shakti. Lakshmi, Parvati, and Saraswathi are regionally considered to be from of Durga in West Bengal and Odisha, which are usually considered separate in India. She is the personification of spiritual fulfillment and is the embodiment of Param Prakriti, which purifies, empowers, and uplifts the individual.

It is obvious that Lakshmi represents an elusive and evolving subject of wealth and prosperity as well as the divine feminine aspect of spiritual energy. She is a powerful symbol in Hinduism and is worshipped often in modern India with statues and symbolism apparent in many of the places that I am currently near in Mysore. Her evolution is as interesting as her origins and I continue to find tremendous insight in the symbolism applied to her forms.

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The Wanderer, Part 9

2 Comments / art, philosophy, Wanderer Series, Writing, yoga philosophy

Tas woke in a cold sweat. He could hear a rustling in the bushes near him and started until he saw that it was only the old man, his rescuer from the night before. He still felt the euphoria from the night before, his vision seemed to be more defined and even his body did not hurt so bad as the day before. In fact, he felt fresh and renewed, even from his injuries.

He got up quite easily, gently nursing his bruised back and ribs and he rose and remembered the crushing blow from four days easier. The old man was already continuing along the road they were following north, though Tas had no idea where they were going. After a bit, Tas thought he might try his luck with some questions.

“You killed them all?” Tas asked, remember the vicious assault the old man had inflicted upon the village the night before.

“No,” the old man said somberly. “Just the ones who fought back.” He seemed to brighten up as he said it.

“Thank you. I would have…”

“I know.” The old man said quickly. “They were a wicked group, this one. They have killed many travelers before you. I brought what was coming to them.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“The stars told me,” the old man said mystically, looking up at the forest canopy. His walking stick seemed to have changed, though Tas hadn’t even really noticed it before. It was a bit shorter, and the man’s back seemed a bit more crooked.

“You can really read the stars like that? To see what is happening in the world?” Tas asked in an innocent tone?

The old man nodded. “I see the now. The stars assist me in this.”

Tas didn’t completely understand. But he could tell that the old man wouldn’t talk more about it, so he moved on.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Tas had never seen anyone move in such a fashion, like a wild animal with complete control, perfect precision. He could still see the silhouette dodging multiple spears and connecting a spear to neck after neck, two heads fell at a time.

“I was born to be a warrior.” The old man said. He stopped walking now. He looked around for a moment, as if looking for something specific, then began to walk towards the side of the road they were following. He found a couple of nice sitting rocks and mentioned to Tas to have a seat. He took out some salted peas that turned out to be tremendously tasty, especially since Tas hadn’t eaten much since he left the village.

They spent a minute eating, before the old man began to speak again.

“Kid, you can’t tell anyone what I am about to tell you. But it’s time you learned who I am.” Tas nodded in agreement; he wouldn’t tell a soul.

“My name is Yao, I am from the far north, high in the mountains. That is where I learned to fight,” He looked at Tas with a grin as he said it. Tas had never seen the mountains and the old man seemed to know it.

“I was born to be a Jarakanda, a hunter and defender of my village. It was a childhood of strife and training; my only thoughts were to be as strong as I could possibly be. I learned to fight with my fists first, then my feet, then with other things. Swords, Staves, knives, rocks, all kinds of different weapons. Spears are one of my favorite,” his grinned turned menacing as he said it.

“My people traveled with the snow, we were people of the mountains and were efficient enough hunters and fishermen. I learned to read the sky and the weather from them, as well as all types of hunting, gathering, and fighting. But when I turned into a man, my father was killed by the chieftain for adultery on my mother. I left my village in shame, to take up the life of a monk in a monastery to the south. I gave up my arms and hunting to live a life in solidarity and to undo the karma of my father’s treachery. He was beheaded.” The entire story seemed to have no emotion behind it, like he was telling it from another person’s point of view.

“So you were born to be a warrior?”

“Not just a warrior. Jakaranda’s are renowned for being the most vicious opponents, elite hunter-warriors. Especially against multiple targets. We practice hunting and preying on groups of deer at a time in the mountains, to minimize our time outside during the harsher storms of winter. Once you can kill three deer within 20 seconds, you can kill as many men as you need to,” the old man said with a chortle.

He seemed to be entertaining questions, so Tas pushed further, “What happened when you left for the monastery? What happened to your father?”

“Well, he was given a trial, Jakaranda’s are held to extremely strict standards. When he was convicted, the chieftain took his head. I was forced to watch with my mother and brother, in shame.” He didn’t look shameful though. Tas thought that maybe the old man had cleansed his karma or something along those lines. No, he was sure of it. There was still no emotion in his voice, despite talking about witnessing the death of his father. Tas’ respect for his teacher seemed to grow each time he learned more about the stooped old man. To watch one’s own father die shamefully must be the worst of punishments, Tas thought to himself.

“I left for the monastery and pursued god, or holiness, or purity, or whatever you want to call it.” He looked directly at Tas now, “Just like you, I wanted to find answers to my questions and I left everything behind to do it.”

Tas digested his words for a minute, then responded, “What did you find?” He had to know what happened next, surely the monastery would have answers.

“That is a story for you to learn for yourself.” When Tas began to ask a question in response, the old man continued, “We will arrive there within a week. You’ll see it for yourself. Now, it is time to walk.”

Tas got up, but still had one last question. “Can I call you Yao, master?”

The old man laughed heartily for a few moments before responding, “You can call me Yao, but I prefer Yejo. It was my father’s nickname.” Suddenly he became extremely serious. “But don’t ever call me master.” The smile had left his face completely.

Tas smiled as the old man turned from him to continue walking north. Even though he seemed to have gotten some answers, they had only sparked more questions about the old man. Where were they going? What he did mean by saying that god and purity and holiness were the same thing? He sighed and continued walking, happy to know that the man he was following was as full of surprises as the jungle itself.

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