Foggy Morning Meditation in the Sacred Grove
Foggy Morning Meditation in the Sacred Grove
By Jessica Durivage
Fog can be a magical, mystical, auspicious thing –when you are not driving in it, of course. Waking up at the HI Campus in Allahabad with the fog so thick you cannot see 10 meters in front of you lends to your imagination opening portals in your mind and heart as you clear the haze once you close your eyes and go within.
As I mindfully made my way to the Sacred Grove, placed my blankets down and sat, I realized that the dampness of the fog created a rain like effect in the trees around me and the dewy drops rolled off the leaves with pitter patter sound on the earth below. I closed my eyes and took in the sounds around me, which also included the roar of the pilgrims just down Gangaji offering their morning pujas and taking their baths in the river.
The rhythm of this mystical “rain” began to guide my thoughts as I sank deeper into the sound. My mind moved to the mythical legend behind the Kumbha Mela, when the Gods and Demons were battling against one another and the four drops of Amrit (the immortal elixir) were scattered throughout Mother India in the four sacred places where the holy festival is now held every three years. A memory began to form in my thoughts. A memory of the very first Tantric Meditation ever given to me by a beloved teacher and friend, Karina Mirsky and the visualization she offered before I was to begin my japa. Ten years later, as I feel the rudraksha beads between my fingers I sweetly hold her words in my heart, remembering the first practice I was ever given in the tradition.
I am reminded that the divine nectar, the Amrit, is always flowing from within us, bathing our souls in profound bliss and unbounded joy. Hearing the mist lightly kiss the earth from the trees in the grove, I imagined the sweet nectar falling from the sky in infinite amounts. I saw it bathing the pilgrims just down the river and the amazing people I have had the honor to connect with here on campus. I saw it flooding the whole of my path and all of the connections and experiences I have had in this life bringing me here to this moment.
As I took my last few breaths, bowing in gratitude for the opportunity of feeling a deep connection to a path, to a lineage and also feeling thankful for my own experiences finding their way home to my heart, I walked out of the Sacred Grove, closing the gate behind me still listening to the sky and the trees whispering to one another – “May amrit, the nectar of immortality, infinitely flow from your heart, always.”






Nandini
Beautiful.
John Christopherson
We arrived at the Allahabad campus late at night long after dark. So the following morning I was quite disoriented and I took several wrong turns in the thick fog as I made my way to the Sacred Grove for meditation. I had not seen the sacred Ganga and was not even sure where it was in relation to my sitting place under a tree. I heard the drops falling around me. But when I felt a large cold drop hit squarely on the crown of my head I realized that even though I had traveled half way around the world to be at the Ganga, it was the hidden sacred river which had risen up to make contact with me.