A Tool of Love

Yoga, meditation, and spiritual enlightenment are the main activities in Rishikesh, though there is the pothead and backpacker subculture who could not care less in their haze, merely enjoying being stoned in a pretty place. I didn't commit myself to an ashram but I spent a few days at one offering free classes.

I was privy through a glass door of a dancing meditation group. Swarms, eyes closed, float around the room, flailing arms to shanti music. They looked silly, but most seemed to feel something. On the outside, we all laughed, but I was intrigued enough to want to try it the next day. Sadly, they didn't offer it in the following afternoons.

We all did want to give group meditation a chance, especially Daan, “I want to learn how!” he said on numerous occasions.

Nam and I, the only two who engage in any form of intentional meditation, didn't know how to explain that you just do it. I never confine meditation to sitting in a half lotus with eyes closed, humming “om”. I meditate through cooking or hiking; meditation is a state, not an activity. Either way, we joined in a group, sat cross legged and surrendered to the energy, some what. Mark sat and photographed those with closed eyes. Daan and Maartje drifted in and out with various levels of seriousness. Nam was lost in it, singing to the peaceful songs she somehow knew. As you can guess from my journalism, I couldn't maintain the state for the whole time. A woman was crying, raising her hands the the heavens as the music consumed her. Some sat in each others' arms stroking hair and arms. Most sat cross-legged, eyes closed in concentration. It was easy to find the humor from the room, so many people singing, clapping, playing instruments with an excessive level of seriousness. Despite this though, when I did settle down, close my eyes and surrendered to it, I did feel something and I did reach a meditative state. The room had so much energy, the silly songs growing higher and higher to a climax. I found it easy to get lost in it. After a point, it all stopped; it was time for the guru to speak.

I noticed him enter during one of my more lucid states. He quietly entered, a white figure in all ways—robes, hair, beard, presence, all but his Indian brown skin—and sat in the front and merely closed his eyes without a word. Some started to stand at his entrance, but with a simple wave of his hand, he instructed them to remain seated and ignore him.

Finally in the silent void left by the abrupt cessation of the music, he opened his eyes slowly and began to speak in Hindi, a young woman translated in only a slightly less peaceful voice.

He explained how the goal of life is to purge the heart of all negative thoughts, all anger, all sadness, and fill it with love. Upon reaching this point, we can then love even those who hate us. Our love will become like the rays of sun, radiating indiscriminately onto all.

When this happens, we will all become tools of love, great big tools with only positivity. Once we all accept that the love has made us all tools, we can help spread the love so everyone can have the chance to become a tool. And this all starts by embracing the theories of the biggest tool of all, the guru.

He spoke with a half-smiled smugness, hanging on his every word, loving his every word. He loved the captive power he had over the audience. He loved his importance. He was so filled with self-love, he truly was a giant tool.

His sermon sounded good and well meaning, but it stated that negative emotions are terrible things that need to be pushed out, not embraced and controlled. If a person loses their ability to accept and love the negativity in their own heart, how can they love and accept it in another person. His whole theory ignores the importance and need for the dark side of the human spirit. How can love be positive without it having a polar nature with hate? The love would have no meaning. Then we're all smiling zombies. He was right about one thing though, if we all have only pure love in our hearts, we would become a race of tool.