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I
’
m
getting
a
lot
of
time
alone
here
now
.
I
’
m
spending
about
four
or
five
hours
every
day
in
the
meditation
caves
.
I
can
sit
in
my
own
company
for
hours
at
a
time
now
,
at
ease
in
my
own
presence
,
undisturbed
by
my
own
existence
on
the
planet
.
Sometimes
my
meditations
are
surreal
and
physical
experiences
of
shakti
-
all
spine
-
twisting
,
blood
-
boiling
wildness
.
I
try
to
give
in
to
it
with
as
little
resistance
as
possible
.
Other
times
I
experience
a
sweet
,
quiet
contentment
,
and
that
is
fine
,
too
.
The
sentences
still
form
in
my
mind
,
and
thoughts
still
do
their
little
show
-
off
dance
,
but
I
know
my
thought
patterns
so
well
now
that
they
don
’
t
bother
me
anymore
.
My
thoughts
have
become
like
old
neighbors
,
kind
of
bothersome
but
ultimately
rather
endearing
-
Mr
.
and
Mrs
.
Yakkity
-
Yak
and
their
three
dumb
children
,
Blah
,
Blah
and
Blah
.
But
they
don
’
t
agitate
my
home
.
There
’
s
room
for
all
of
us
in
this
neighborhood
.
As
for
whatever
other
changes
may
have
occurred
within
me
during
these
last
few
months
,
perhaps
I
can
’
t
even
feel
them
yet
.
My
friends
who
have
been
studying
Yoga
for
a
long
time
say
you
don
’
t
really
see
the
impact
that
an
Ashram
has
had
on
you
until
you
leave
the
place
and
return
to
your
normal
life
.
"
Only
then
,
"
said
the
former
nun
from
South
Africa
,
"
will
you
start
to
notice
how
your
interior
closets
have
all
been
rearranged
.
"
Of
course
at
the
moment
,
I
’
m
not
entirely
sure
what
my
normal
life
is
.
I
mean
,
I
’
m
maybe
about
to
go
move
in
with
an
elderly
medicine
man
in
Indonesia
-
is
that
my
normal
life
?
It
may
be
,
who
knows
?
In
any
case
,
though
,
my
friends
say
that
the
changes
appear
only
later
.
You
may
find
that
lifelong
obsessions
are
gone
,
or
that
nasty
,
indissoluble
patterns
have
finally
shifted
.
Petty
irritations
that
once
maddened
you
are
no
longer
problems
,
whereas
abysmal
old
miseries
you
once
endured
out
of
habit
will
no
longer
be
tolerated
now
for
even
five
minutes
.
Poisonous
relationships
get
aired
out
or
disposed
of
,
and
brighter
,
more
beneficial
people
start
arriving
into
your
world
.
Last
night
I
couldn
’
t
sleep
.
Not
out
of
anxiety
,
but
out
of
thrilled
anticipation
.
I
got
dressed
and
went
out
for
a
walk
through
the
gardens
.
The
moon
was
lusciously
ripe
and
full
,
and
it
hovered
right
above
me
,
spilling
a
pewtery
light
all
around
.
The
air
was
perfumed
with
jasmine
and
also
the
intoxicating
scent
from
this
heady
,
flowery
bush
they
have
around
here
which
only
blossoms
in
the
night
.
The
day
had
been
humid
and
hot
,
and
now
it
was
only
slightly
less
humid
and
hot
.
The
warm
air
shifted
around
me
and
I
realized
:
"
I
’
m
in
India
!
"
I
’
m
in
my
sandals
and
I
’
m
in
India
!
I
took
off
at
a
run
,
galloping
away
from
the
path
and
down
into
the
meadow
,
just
tearing
across
that
moonlit
bath
of
grass
.
My
body
felt
so
alive
and
healthy
from
all
these
months
of
Yoga
and
vegetarian
food
and
early
bedtimes
My
sandals
on
the
soft
dewy
grass
made
this
sound
:
shippa
-
shippa
-
shippa
-
shippa
,
and
that
was
the
only
sound
in
the
whole
valley
.
I
was
so
exultant
I
ran
straight
to
the
clump
of
eucalyptus
trees
in
the
middle
of
the
park
(
where
they
say
an
ancient
temple
used
to
stand
,
honoring
the
god
Ganesh
-
the
remover
of
obstacles
)
and
I
threw
my
arms
around
one
of
those
trees
,
which
was
still
warm
from
the
day
’
s
heat
,
and
I
kissed
it
with
such
passion
.
I
mean
,
I
kissed
that
tree
with
all
my
heart
,
not
even
thinking
at
the
time
that
this
is
the
worst
nightmare
of
every
American
parent
whose
child
has
ever
run
away
to
India
to
find
herself
-
that
she
will
end
up
having
orgies
with
trees
in
the
moonlight
.
But
it
was
pure
,
this
love
that
I
was
feeling
.
It
was
godly
.
I
looked
around
the
darkened
valley
and
I
could
see
nothing
that
was
not
God
.
I
felt
so
deeply
,
terribly
happy
.
I
thought
to
myself
,
"
Whatever
this
feeling
is
-
this
is
what
I
have
been
praying
for
.
And
this
is
also
what
I
have
been
praying
to
.
"
By
the
way
,
I
found
my
word
.
I
found
it
in
the
library
,
of
course
,
bookworm
that
I
am
.
I
’
d
been
wondering
about
my
word
ever
since
that
afternoon
back
in
Rome
when
my
Italian
friend
Giulio
had
told
me
that
Rome
’
s
word
is
SEX
,
and
had
asked
me
what
mine
was
.
I
didn
’
t
know
the
answer
then
,
but
kind
of
figured
my
word
would
show
up
eventually
,
and
that
I
’
d
recognize
it
when
I
saw
it
.
