Life Lessons from the Indian Himalayas
Back in 2019, I decided that I wanted to backpack through the Himalayas. I found a program called NOLS (National Outdoor Leadership School) that organizes backpacking trips around the world. Wide eyed and terrified, I set foot on my first flight to Delhi where I would join up with other students in NOLS and begin a month-long trek through the Indian Himalayas.
I had slipped down the stairs a few months before the trip, but refused to see a doctor because I did not want someone to tell me I couldn’t go due to a bruised tail bone… So on Day 2 of the trek, I realized that the muscles that were supposed to help me lift my right leg were misbehaving. And all of a sudden, I was dragging my right foot to keep up with the rest of the group and if I tried to lift my leg I was in the most excruciating pain. The instructors didn’t seem worried, so I just kept on going.
Imagine what could go wrong in the Indian Himalayas, and it probably happened to me. Altitude sickness, getting lost, traveler’s diarrhea, a third degree sunburn, leeches, fly bites, migraines, blisters, and every day, my hip seemed to deteriorate more and more. I was miserable to say the least. As the days went on I became hopeless. I felt useless, inadequate, weak and pathetic… and I cried through every hike.. It felt as though something was telling me that I should not be there, but I did not see a way out.
Finally on Day 10, I was evacuated. Still feeling worthless, fifteen hours later I found myself back at base camp, on the phone to my parents. Explaining my situation was odd because it seemed like the end of the world to me—I was so discouraged. But my parents did not get me on the first flight back home. No, from across the room my dad told me that I had been given lemons.
Lemons.
So… make lemonade? That’s right. They were encouraging me to stay in India instead of giving up. I decided to travel around for a while and then spend my last ten days in an Ashram. I had started practicing yoga and meditation in high school but never had a steady practice. For some reason I wanted nothing more than to practice yoga and sit in an Ashram until it was time to go home.
Anand Prakash Ashram is in Tapovan (translated: the forest of spiritual practice) next to the Ganges river in Rishikesh. When I arrived, I was greeted with smiles, given the key to my room, and the schedule was explained to me. During down time, we were free to use the library, meditate, or schedule an Ayurvedic massage.
On my first day, I met Gaurav Malik, the yoga instructor. (He is now the founder of Ashtak Yoga - which he founded back in 2014) I explained that I may not be able to do many of the poses because I was injured.
He asked for my foot.
Wearily, and with mild skepticism, I gave him my foot, and he began pressing and prodding and asking what I felt. Finally, he explained that my tailbone was off center, and my hips were in pain. He also noted that my digestion was out of wack, my neck was out of alignment, my emotions “hurt,” and he could probably help.
My jaw dropped… this was my introduction to foot reflexology. Every morning after the fire puja I would pick Gaurav’s brain, asking questions and learning as much as I could about yoga, Ayurveda, and health. He taught me with patience and a strong emphasis on Karma Yoga. He explained Karma Yoga as performing an action with love, and no expectation of gratitude or anything in return. Every evening after Kundalini, Gaurav would work to heal my body with foot reflexology, and by my final night at the Ashram, not only did my body feel stronger and more confident, but I couldn’t stop smiling. Not only did Gaurav help to heal my body, he mended my broken ego. I arrived at the Ashram a puddle of self-loathing and I left with understanding, acceptance, hope, and love that I could not wait to give to the rest of the world.
Life lesson? There is no moon without the sun, there is no light without darkness, there is no good without bad, there is no comfort without pain, there is no life without death.
Everything happens because it has to happen, when it happens, the way that it happens.
