No Motion

I had a teacher in college who told me that going on stage was like flying in a plane, once the curtain goes up, you have no choice but to stick it out to the end. Just like taking off in an airplane, where the captain is in charge, an actor really has very little control, it could be a bumpy ride, it could be a smooth landing, all you can do is be present and aware each minute of the journey.


The same teacher was a great fan of Viola Spolin who created a series of acting exercises called “No Motion.” The object of No Motion was to become aware of every movement and sound that you make in a scene. To do this, we would move and speak so slowly it was if we weren’t moving at all, making sure that every movement was vital and executed deliberately.

No Motion is easier to grasp if you picture a flipbook where someone has drawn a character doing something, let’s say a magician is pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Each page has a minor adjustment in action, dozens of tiny details articulated one by one, a page at a time; when the book is flipped quickly, it looks as if the character has come to life. Detail is key. If our magician is pulling a rabbit out of a hat it isn’t very interesting to look at the first page, magician and hat, and then cut to the last page, Magician, hat, Rabbit with puzzled look on his face. We want the whole story, the how, the why of the puzzled look, we want every nuance colored in and fleshed out.

No Motion is meant to teach actors that if they are completely mindful, they will have no choice but to live each moment of a scene. There’s no chance to take shortcuts, to omit important emotional storytelling elements. The actor is more present and the audience is never left out in the cold wondering how or why the magician pulled the rabbit out of the hat.

No Motion is rather terrifying. It’s scary being on stage and living every moment fully, acknowledging each tenderness, exposing every fault.

Mindfulness Yoga brings up the same awareness, only instead of being able to hide behind a character, it’s my own psyche and vulnerabilities that come to the surface. By focusing on each and every action of the body and breath, a person has no choice but to be present. I have done this kind of yoga before but maybe because I’m in India or because I’m older, this time is different. Instead of being intimidated by the process, I’m really understanding what a gift it is to slow down and complete each moment before moving onto the next.

That said, today has been a little challenging.

Mathew’s home is a sanctuary. I feel like I’m in a cocoon learning to fly differently. Mathew is fast becoming one of my favorite counselors. When I am struggling with something or feeling a little lazy, he invites me to participate more fully rather than berating me for holding back. At meals we have developed a boisterous camaraderie. Inside of a week we have running jokes. When it comes time for yoga, we get still and with each class I get closer to understating what “meditating on the movement” means. In between asanas, we discuss bliss and letting go of the ego. We compare notes on living outside the boundaries of more conventional society. Mathew views me as his teacher while he reminds me to stay present and to observe without judgment and expectation.

On top of that I went back to see Mary Kotti again. She massaged and bathed me. I tried to be present, to feel only her hands carefully wiping away my stress and cares. I was successful about 55% percent of the time. I’m not used to being taken care of and exposed so completely. We humans give that up as adults, that childlike ability to be nurtured and tended to without reservation.

Mathew is trying to get me to stay here in the hills until Monday when I go to Bengal to teach at the school I told you about (Yay!!!). Here’s where the challenge comes in. Instead of staying in the present, I’ve been obsessing on where to go next.

I am scheduled to go to Amma’s ashram on Friday. Mathew thinks Amma is nothing but hype. Like many gurus before her and after her, he feels any spiritual gifts she has have been consumed by her brand. I have been in the same room with Amma and felt genuine spiritual vibrations. I suspect her ashram, even if it is hectic and more of a business than a spiritual center will be a unique, once in a lifetime experience.

On the other hand, if I stay here I will continue to have one on one yoga classes with Mathew, twice a day.

The trees, those wise beings I often look to for guidance, have been sparkling and rustling their leaves all day; it feels like they are trying to get my attention. Maybe they are telling me to root myself where I stand, to trust that there is great strength in learning to be still and quiet. Maybe I don’t need to go immerse myself in Amma’s pageantry to find my center, to be connected to spirit. As Mathew would say, “Bliss is found within. If you connect to your true self, the self that is pure consciousness without judgment or expectation, you will be happy. From that place you will be able to truly connect and to have deeper relationships, relationships with synthesis.”

But I must admit that I’m inclined to go to Amma’s. My curiosity is quite keen to see what being in a space occupied by thousands of devotees of the Hugging Saint feels like, looks like, sounds like. I can see Amma in Seattle, but back home there aren’t elephants and salmon colored dormitories, or 3,000 people chanting in unison.

But at some point I have to leave this cocoon, I have to fly again on my own. What if this sanctuary is turning into my own Shangri-la. Am I getting stuck here?

This is the seesaw I’ve been on all day, sitting on one end of one plank, jumping off, running to the other end and jumping on that tangent.

As I was doing yoga tonight it occurred to me that by running all these possibilities in my head that I’m trying to get off the plane too early, I’m not coloring in all the details. Mathew doesn’t need to know if I’m staying or going till tomorrow night. That means the next scene is still quite a ways away. I’ve been spending so much energy today trying to get to the last page, to know if the magician pulls the rabbit out of the hat, instead of really taking in all the luxurious breathtaking moments of this day here and now.

So, I’m going to be brave, live in the now. I’m not going to decide if I’m going to Amma’s until tomorrow night when I would need to hire a car to get down to the plains on Friday. I’m going to see if I can slow down and become aware of all the tiny steps it really takes to get from one day to the next, one town to the next, one honest heart-felt decision to the next.

Going Off Course

Today is my last day in Fort Cochin.  Tonight I will stay in the big city of Ernakulum at the Ramada with Gary and tomorrow we will go to Alleppey and take a houseboat for two days and nights through the backwaters of Kerala.  This is one of the must see parts of my India trip.  We will glide through small town India, stopping along the way to visit villages and see how life happens away from the tourist towns.  I can't wait.  I'll just tell you now, that I won't have wi-fi, so don't expect another posting till next week.

Which begs the question, "What's next?"  Several people have asked me privately what is on the agenda and I've been hesitant to commit.  Part of my reluctance stems from the fact that things are always always always changing here in India.  It's just what happens.  But I've pretty much settled on the next two stops after Alleppey.

First, I will venture up into the mountains to a town called Periyar.  I'm splurging on a small homestay run by a man named Matthew who, according to his website, roamed the world and found his spot in India to be the place he wanted to settle.

When I was in Cornwall I met another man who had worked in the hospitality industry, traveling the planet for years and years, and he told me the same thing about his part of the world, a place called St. Nectin's Glen.  I wanted to see a place that would capture his heart so completely.  It was truly one of the most mystical places I've ever been.  Set deep in a forested area, a small stream rambles toward a water fall. Lining the walk, stones have been arranged by pilgrims into shapes of any totem you can imagine.  Standing in the stream felt like standing in a holy well.  It radiated sacredness in a way no building has ever spoken to me.

When I was freaking out last week, I googled retreat and Kerala and found Mathew's homestay and was immediately drawn to his similar story of finding his true home after years of wandering and to the fact that he teaches yoga to his guests, his rooms look out of the Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary, and there are many wild birds and animals to be found right outside the doorstep.  It is a great adventure to see if his favorite spot might speak to me as well as it does to him.  I will be there till the 11th.

After that I will do something I swore I wasn't gonna do when I set off on my trip.

I am going to an ashram.

Yes.

It's true.

I realized I had to go to an ashram when I discovered that Amma is going to be in Amritapuri which is right down the road, until the 12th of February.  She is hardly ever there because she travels so much.   As I wrote before, she is known as the hugging saint because she can sit for hours, days even, simply hugging her devotees one at a time.  She demonstrates universal compassion.  She embraces the rich, the poor, the healthy, the sick, the Brahmins, the untouchables.  A poor Indian woman, she has managed to build hospitals and schools all around India for people who might not otherwise seek care or education.  She exudes peace.  So, I figure, if I'm gonna experience an ashram, her ashram is the place to go.

It also helps that Nicole was already planning to be there, so I will know someone else.

We have no idea what to expect.  Since Amma is there and the ashram can house thousands of people, I figure it will be a zoo.  There is a chance it is also a silent ashram, I can't quite figure that out.  So, thousands of people waiting for hugs, meditating, living and working together in silence.  Should be something.  I will be there for four days.

After that it looks like I might completely go off course from my original plan of sticking to Kerala and Rajasthan.  I've been given the opportunity to go to a town in Bengal and volunteer at a school in the same place where Tagore lived.  This town is apparently famous as an arts and literature center for people from all over the world.  The best storytellers in the country study and work here and that influence permeates even into the children's school I might get to go to: the Antaranga School.  I'm really hoping this works out, so please keep your fingers crossed.

Going "off course" seems to be a part of Indian life.  At least for this traveler.  I find I have to give into the wayward sway of India.  I have to trust that the answers to "What will I do next?" and "Where will I go?" can't be rushed.  I tried last week, when I was in such a panic, to pin down the entire rest of my itinerary.  I wrote to places around the country trying to get a place to volunteer for the duration of my stay, but answers take so long here.

Then, out of the blue, someone at breakfast will ask you what you want to do (volunteer at a school), and what you do back home, (I'm an actor and a writer.  So, a story teller, really) and suddenly you know where you want to go next when they say, "Oh, you must come with us.  I raise money for a small school in Bengal that is famous for storytelling.  Here's who you call."

Bengal was so off my radar that I don't have a guidebook for it.  I couldn't have even told you what part of India it lives in (North-easterly).  But life is like that, I'm finding more and more every day here that there's no way to stick to the guidebook, not if I really listen to the signals in my gut and in my heart.  It simply wasn't enough to just get up the nerve to come to India, I must summon the strength to let go of the map I had in my head of where I thought I was going once I got here.

I'm making peace with the constant shedding, the inner evolution that palpably progresses apace.  I don't understand it intellectually, but if I take deep breaths I find that I can sit more easily with it.

So, till Monday.......or so.......