Its 23 days that I’m in India. It’s the 23d of December 2019 , two days after winter solstice and two days before Christmas.
Even if I’m living in the Thar desert I’m in my my bed under 2 duvets because it is still winter and nights are cold. There are no festive decorations, no Christmas cards or songs around.
It ‘s December 12th 2019, 5.45 am my alarm rings to remind me to go to yoga but I feel lazy and I don’t know if I want to go.
I check the news: Labour lost the elections in the UK.
It’s a week after my arrival. I’m in the car with Guru Ji and Shreejan and the Austrian guests of the ashram, Shreejan says:
“No, don’t buy the piercing for the nose with the chain, is not a traditional beauty jewellery, the husband give that to his wife to say: you are my propriety.”
“There was a flood in the 2014. People died. Most of the men survived. And most of the women did not. You know why?”
… “Because they could not swim properly with all the layers of clothes, veils, and jewels.”
“When they go to work in the fields, they wear the veils and the ankle bracelets. The bracelets leave them horrible marks and burns and the veils as they synthetic give them scalps problems and cancer. It is the way it is.”
The other side of the coin is less shiny than it appeared to me at first. I’m not able to pronounce a concrete comment on the situation, so I write down informations and I look outside the window. The sun is a huge orange circle and everything is pink around me.
I’m in the kitchen of the ashram. There are workers all around me as they are repainting all the walls for the festival. They look at me and they say “Hello, Hellooooo” I smile back, but for some reasons I feel weird.
I’m with Liz. She just arrived and the Undergrowth crew is almost complete. Liz has a shaved head and big blue eyes. We are eating and everyone look at us while we are chewing, we feel like observed animal at the zoo.
Pukrash which is actually a nice person and one of the few that can speak in English, asks us if he can practice a little bit with us. He asks about our studies and work and then he says: “You know my wife is lucky, she doesn’t have to work. A lot of women when they have husbands, not super rich, even only “middle class” are lucky because they don’t have to worry, just relax and do house work.”
I say: “Maybe they would enjoy to try to do a work they like.”
He looks at me and I feel an animal at the zoo again and he asks me a complete irrelevant other question. And I can feel that it is not really his fault, is the way it has been for so long, that is now impossible to see other ways.
For a whole month before leaving Europe, when I pick “one card” from my Aleister Crowley tarot deck, there is a particular card that is following me: 4 of disks, that Crowley renamed “Power”.
This card never really came up for me before and I was trying to understand it.
Power. A big castle on golden background, the symbol of the sun on the top.
It is around the second week of November. I’m in Rome and all of a sudden I’m screaming in C.’s kitchen: ‘O MY GOD THIS IS THE ASHRAM. CLEARLY.”
The towers, the wall, the colour, the desert. It was all there.
It s December 19th. I read on a paper that the word Ashram comes from the Sanskrit root giving the meaning of ‘labour’ / ‘making an effort’.
It is November, 3 am. I’m in my garden in London.
I. says to me : “Do you understand your powers, right? All the things that are happening here, around us, it is all you. You move it all.”
I was actually feeling like a cripple for all the emotional hits that I had to hold at that times. I could not see anything. I thought I was not even able to put a feet after the other to walk myself in to places, and yet I was just reminded of my powers.
P o w e r :
I never think about this word, I never really use this word.
But it is coming back to me as something I can’t avoid looking at and it is asking me to understand it.
It is at lunch time of few days ago when Em says that Guru Ji told her that it’s only recent that the law regarding the “Triple Talaq” changed. Apparently until very recent times, a men could divorce from his wife only saying “Talaq, Talaq, Talaq” or tree times the word via different mediums, even text or email.
And at that point the woman would have to leave the house, with no money, no power, back in the street. No chance to change her situation. Out. As a dog.
Men here can also have a wife and a girlfriend (ore more) and women of course can’t. Women are not only not allowed to travel on their own. They should not smile back at men, they don’t really drive and female infanticide is common, second/ widow remarriage is a taboo.
Where does it lies, where does it come from, what’s is purest form and what’s the big shadow casted around it in our society.
We are in a age of enormous digital interaction, knowledge and connections, we know we need to change things but it seems we are doing the same mistakes all over again.
Donald Trump, Boris Johnson, Korea, Erdogan, Putin, Bolsonaro and all the other members of the horror theatre that is the government of this world that is bagging to be helped. You can call it power but I don’t see any power there, only weakness. Indeed.
What are my powers. It is hard to see the things in yourself. When I broke myself I arrived to a point that I felt so powerless, so miserable and there, just right there, something pushed me from the inside as never before.
There when the veil was down, the patterns of everything were vibrant and very clear. My power is there, looking at me, and telling me: there is more. Do not stop. It’s not over, it’s only starting.
Power in physics is the ability of doing work. To produce an effect.
I’m sun burned and I’m writing down notes:
do not eat milk is not good for you, exercise more, sun is life but too much sun can burn, paint the banner for the festival, prepare the music for the set, be more aware of the physical space, do not get distracted, heal, pray, help others, be humble, remember:
As it’s true that tomorrow the sun will rise, I promise, everything has a soul. Take care of your soul. Do not feed rocks to it. Balance. Trust. Read the signs.
And here, power arises.