Surrender

I forgot to mention that before I took off on the solo India trip I had decided to surrender. I was already surrendering to this voice in my head

• "Everything you need is provided."


• "Everything you are looking for you will find."


• "Everything you are looking for is divine."

There was something about this trip that made me want to surrender to the experience. I sweated bullets on the flight over. All of my fears were surfacing. What if .... What if .... What if .... The flight was a blur until the hotel room in Bangkok when I saw Asheville on the screen. I awoke to experiencing the sequence of events. Kinda. Sometimes.
      The taxi ride to the hotel was a perfect overwhelming shock. But deep inside I was thrilled and sure that I was in the right place at the right time. The hotel was facing the Ganges. My room had a balcony facing the river. There was a grimy restaurant in the reception area with dog eared paperbacks. Everyone spoke English. I was shaking from excitement that first day. Now. What was I doing here? I spent several days in the room, on the balcony, trying to figure this absolute insane passion I suddenly had for Varanasi. What was I doing here? Why this very spot?
I went out on the fourth day just walking around the neighborhood. I saw buffalo walking in the street. I saw an elephant walking in the street. I heard bells, and shouts and cries. I smelled feces and urine and curry and spices. All of this at once. So many people. It was a blur. I turned a corner and bumped into a man. It wasn't until years later that I knew how rare this was. This was the only time, of all my time in India, that I ever had physical contact with another person.
       Anyway. We bumped. He looked at me, cocked his head "Oh, are you here for Hindi lessons?" Here it was. My desire was not to have Hindi lessons. I felt my face blanch and my heart sink as I croaked out "Yes." I was surrendering. I was starting the trip.