Feed Me by Lexie Wolf
As I settled into my middle seat near the rear of the plane on the 13.5-hour flight from JFK to Delhi, the guy next to me (not Bill—the other guy) downed two Jack Daniels in quick succession and began squirming relentlessly. I had a brief moment of thinking, oh no, I might really be in for it. But eventually, he settled down.
A thought form that stayed very present for me was this: there is always a price to pay for anything worth having—and I happily(ish) pay this price. Three days later, as I sat on a cushion in the bright sunshine in Anandji’s beautiful garden by the river, he repeated that exact same thought.
Got it.
Allowing physical discomfort to detract from an otherwise amazing experience is a tendency I’ve been noticing in myself lately. And working with. Our first night here, we couldn’t get the heater in our room working properly, and we were very cold. When we were here in September of 2024, it was extremely hot. All of this is completely normal for the Himalayan foothills.
When I woke up shivering that first night, I grabbed my Kindle—as I often do when sleep won’t come. I’m reading the Bhagavad Gita again while I’m here, and the passage I opened to said this:
The contact of the senses with sense objects gives rise to fleeting perceptions of happiness and distress, cold and heat. These are temporary, coming and going. You must learn to tolerate them.
Got it. Thank you. (This lesson was also repeated yesterday in the garden, by the way.)
When one of the students asked Anandji what qualities he most hoped graduates of the Master Level training would cultivate, his answer was simple: the ability to handle yourself skillfully—and thus serve others. Cultivate qualities such as groundedness, equanimity, gratitude, compassion.
So simple.
I found myself noticing what he did not say: the ability to meditate for hours, put your leg behind your head, teach huge classes, or attain some so-called enlightened or blissful state. Just learn to handle yourself, if you please. So you can be helpful. That’s enough. I love that.
It’s incredible to be back here—by this sweetly flowing tributary of Ma Ganga, looking up at the hills, dodging monkeys, and receiving wisdom, practices, and gentle challenges that help me become a more competent and compassionate human being. I am blessed, and I know it.
If you’re curious for more details about this place, our posts from 2024 describe our first visit to Sattva Yoga in Rishikesh. So far, the days here feel much the same as last time—and also entirely different. As Anandji reminds us often and in a variety of ways, “the experiencer is the experience.”
This time, some of the seeds of wisdom and practice were planted before. The sprouts that have emerged since then are now being deeply watered and fertilized. They’re growing roots.
Ahhhh. Feed me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
