Delhi Belly

The other day, during my morning practice I wept. Not just a little cry, I really lost it. On the side of the river, surrounded by chanting sadus and annoying flies, I simply broke down. I’m not sure what I was even crying about. My best guess is that is has to do with my ego mind beginning to crack under the pressure of Mother India’s thumb.
I came to India expecting to be shocked by poverty and to see things that would startle my conscience. To be sure that has come to pass. But what my tears were about had less to do with their pain and more to do with my own suffering and that of my people. I often tell my students that “Pain is stubbing your toe and suffering is what your mind does with that experience.” There is a lot of ‘pain’ here, a lot more than in the USA for sure, but these people ‘suffer’ so much less than we do.
Mother Theresa once remarked that America was the most poverty-stricken country on Earth and while I thought it was a true statement at the time, I didn’t think I was included. Being here among the poorest of the poor, I have begun to see that indeed I have, to a certain extent, been one of the people Mother Theresa referred to. Don’t get me wrong, I live a blessed life and I have the most amazing family, friends and students. But there is always room to grow, and we can always widen our circle of compassion. My brake down was more about my heart going through another growth spurt. Ironically, that growth spurt was inspired by people I expected to feel sorry for.
That cry on the river was deeply cleansing and something that has needed to come out of me for some time. Like most cleansing, however, it did not confine itself to just one level. My body joined in the fun with a nice case of “Delhi Belly”. That is polite way to describe a condition in which you have explosive diarrhea while traveling through India. It is also the time that you thank God you paid a little extra for a western style toilet or kick yourself for being cheep and getting a room with an Indian style toilet. Here is a photo to help you get the idea. (No, I’m not really using the toilet, just doing a demo)

In any event, the storm passed through me like a monsoon leaving me on the other side cleansed and refreshed. I’m not sure how that happens or why, but I do know that the experience felt like a continuation of something that started on the river. The good news is it was a relatively mild case of Delhi Belly, which has now passed; the bad news is that Christopher is dealing with his own cleansing. He too is feeling better though and I expect we will both be in good shape for our long train ride to Agra and the Taj Mahal tomorrow.