My last week in India was spent in Rishikesh. Although there were proportionately more Westerners here than anywhere else I was in India, it didn't ruin the atmosphere of the place because everyone is there in pursuit of their own form of spirituality. Rishikesh, by whoever determines such things, is considered the yoga capital of the world. I planned too poorly to stay at an ashram while I was there, but I was still able to experience many of the ceremonies and courses that I would have if I did. There is such a contrast in Western and Eastern knowledge, and a large part of this trip was planned intending to encounter new perspectives that I hadn't come across before, and Rishikesh helped with that. From doing Love Meditations with a group of strangers, to waking up at 4:30 in the morning to attempt to meditate with local saints, to yoga classes four hours a day, to learning that the path to contentment is found in an awareness of death; all these things were brand new to me and therefore severely difficult to feel successful in any.
A great view of the Ganges, the river I basked next to and bathed in throughout the week.
My last full day in Rishikesh I still hadn't made it to the Beatles Ashram, so it was top of my list. I don't know the details exactly, but the Beatles made the trek out here to stay at this ashram some forty years ago, where supposedly they wrote the White Album. The ashram officially closed fifteen years ago, and since has been slowly overtaken by the jungle surrounding it. It was incredible to walk around and think what all the minds have pondered passing through, and especially of the freedom and creativity in which the Beatles enjoyed while sitting in any of the rooms I'd taken notice of.
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