On the Edge of Feeling Useless

When the cold feeling of uselessness begins to creep into my bones, I must immediately stop and evaluate why destructive thought patterns have edged their way into my mind. Walking the streets with a worn-out backpack and hiking shoes: a postcard image of the vagabond tourist who can afford more than a few weeks holiday in Asia. It is no use denying that, as the rain falls on the steep, river streets, I am wearing boots and a backpack and have white skin and only a handful of Hindi words to choose from. I am a tourist. So what is the problem?

"Tourist" does not have to be synonymous with idle, irresponsible, self-interested, wandering and aimless; but, some days, my white skin and hiking boots and daily stroll down Tourist Lane seeking an afternoon cup of tea makes me feel Icky. My feeling Icky is reasonable: Here I am wandering the hillsides, stopping to read the bazillion yoga fliers and noticing the bright green parrot community burst from the tree like a firework just 10 meters from where I am standing. What am I doing? If exchange is essential to life, or at least a most exciting and potentially positive aspect of life -- giving and receiving, being shaped and shaping, created and creating -- then what am I doing exactly standing in a cloud on the mountainside looking at yoga fliers?

When I begin to feel this way, like the Monsoon cloud is inside of me and not just forming puddles at my feet, it is time for action. Conversation with self: so you feel like a vacancy, a neon light flashing in the night, of no use, just taking up space with your boots and itinerary of "self-exploration." What to do? Go to yoga class, break a sweat, listen to your breath and nourish your body with fresh food. Health is a stepping stone: without a healthy body and resolved breath, mind and heart will swirl in a chaotic storm and throw obstacles in the way of moving through the vacant feeling of uselessness. Next: action. What might I do? Can I be of help in some way in this bustling town: half commercial tourism, half Tibetan Refugee Haven? A cup of tea in the right cozy cafe leads me closer to an answer.

Rogpa Cafe is one part of an organization dedicated to helping families of Tibetan Refugees begin a new life: encouraging them to become self-sufficient through job training, etc. One aspect of the organization is a Baby Care Center located here, in Mcleod Ganj, just a 10 minute walk from where I am staying. "Volunteers Needed" I read on the door and my heart jumps in my chest. "Baby Care Center" and "Volunteer" in the same sentence. Sign me up, please!

After speaking with the Volunteer Coordinator for the project, I agree to work 4 hours each afternoon in the Baby Care Center: helping to create a safe and playful environment for children from 8 months to 3 years-old. I will work under the guidance of Tibetan Teachers who have had some training in Early Childhood Education: change diapers, sing songs, play with blocks and Legos, tell stories and generally support the team of women who work at the center 6 days a week. I feel excited to take this chance: signing up for two weeks just on hearsay and the happy voices of children arriving from the classroom window into the office where I watched the introductory film. Rogpa, www.tibetrogpa.org seems like a well-organized and happy-spirited organization and I feel like I can offer my humble and joyful love to these youngsters and not do unintentional harm. In my experience as a volunteer, it is often best to begin volunteering in very simple, humble ways, especially if one plans to stay for just a week or two. The more responsibility you take on (or demand of the organizational staff), the more distant you might come from the humility that will allow you to appropriately shape your qualities for the particular context in which you are working. I will go to Rogpa Baby Center tomorrow with a completely open-mind: not pretending that I know a thing about child-rearing in a Tibetan Daycare. But I will watch closely, keep my voice soft and my eyes open - aware of what the children are doing and what seems to be considered appropriate behavior and what is not. I will bring a belly full of English songs to share if called upon to do so, and a no-fear mentality when it comes to changing diapers and cleaning Training Toilets. I undertake the adventure of joining 6 or 8 other women in maintaining a safe, clean, creative space for 35 youngsters to play and learn.

And so: yoga and meditation in the morning; childcare in the afternoon. This will be my life for the next two weeks: life in the dense cloud cover of Dharamsala. Admittedly, it is harder to rise with spunk when it is pouring down rain outside, but I have decided to offer my smile and heart to the mud-puddles while I am here. It was I who decided to come to the mountains during monsoon. Who am I to complain about the weather?

There is a yoga studio just a quick walk from the hidden hostel where I am staying. (One studio amongst a thousand in this tiny but bustling tourist town on the edge of a mountain.) I enjoyed class this morning; the instructor is called Vijay and he has been practicing yoga for 40 years. He is competent, thorough, offering a 2 hour 15 minute power yoga session each day at 9 AM. (www.vijaypoweryoga.com) This sweat producing, flowing, athletic yoga suits me at the moment: feeling like I need to move and challenge my body to stay healthy and supple amidst the rain and cloud-cover and beautiful challenge of traveling solo in a place that I have dreamed about for years and years. That's another topic to tackle: the ideas and fantasies that we allow to color our imaginations and the reality of the places we have colored with our dream-state mind. Something I have been thinking a lot about as my heart helps me understand that one of the greatest adventures one can undertake is that of daring to put down roots in a patch of earth. I focus my energy on being here and now: in India, alone, on a journey for reasons that I will learn as I go. And, at the same time, I am aware of my spirit's renewed commitment to settling down and beginning to sow seeds of health and beauty and learning in a community I will come to love more and more through both trial and celebration. The details? Refining themselves day by day but still malleable and full of possibility.

So, my attempt at organization went spinning into a twirl of my present thought patterns considering nomadic travels and sowing seeds in a garden. Here I am in the clouds of Mcleod Ganj, attempting to create a steady rhythm of yoga practice and child care fun: committing to be the artist of my each and every day; committing to not growing lazy or disheartened with my set of colors and brushes.