Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 7

           IimaginedthatthisradiantlybeautifulIndianwomanwouldcometomyapartmentafeweveningsaweekandwewouldsitanddrinkteaandtalkaboutdivinity,andshewouldgivemereadingassignmentsandexplainthesignificanceofthestrangesensationsIwasfeelingduringmeditation…

           AllthisfantasywasquicklysweptawaywhenDavidtoldmeabouttheinternationalstatusofthiswoman,abouthertensofthousandsofstudents-manyofwhomhavenevermetherface-to-face.Still,hesaid,therewasagatheringhereinNewYorkCityeveryTuesdaynightoftheGuru’sdevoteeswhocametogetherasagrouptomeditateandchant.Davidsaid,"Ifyou’renottoofreakedoutbytheideaofbeinginaroomwithseveralhundredpeoplechantingGod’snameinSanskrit,youcancomesometime."

           IjoinedhimthefollowingTuesdaynight.Farfrombeingfreakedoutbytheseregular-lookingpeoplesingingtoGod,Iinsteadfeltmysoulrisediaphanousinthewakeofthatchanting.Iwalkedhomethatnightfeelingliketheaircouldmovethroughme,likeIwascleanlinenflutteringonaclothes-line,likeNewYorkitselfhadbecomeacitymadeofricepaper-andIwaslightenoughtorunacrosseveryrooftop.IstartedgoingtothechantseveryTuesday.ThenIstartedmeditatingeverymorningontheancientSanskritmantratheGurugivestoallherstudents(theregalOmNamahShivaya,meaning,"Ihonorthedivinitythatresideswithinme").ThenIlistenedtotheGuruspeakinpersonforthefirsttime,andherwordsgavemechillbumpsovermywholebody,evenacrosstheskinofmyface

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