Rishikesh

I'm not into yoga. So why did I spend 7 days in Rishikesh, the yoga capital of the world? Well, three of those days were me memorizing the ceiling sick in bed. My healthy days consisted of hiking the foothills of the Himalayas, painting, reading Rumi and Sai Baba, touring the Beatles' old ashram, and watching the Ganges River flow...all while Lumina did yoga in an ashram down the river.

But this man is responsible for planting the first seed of yoga in me. And for that I'm grateful, because at least now I can see why yoga people go so ga ga. For me, I just see a huge yoga hall as an ideal dance floor.

Like this woman, I had the privilege of sending my own light down this river. I didn't grow up learning about the sacredness of the Ganges. But I can tell you...something there feels different.

This was a good memory. Lumina and I were in some kind of kooky mood while we painted together. The scene itself is stunning, and we stayed there until the sun set. Despite the romantic mood, I just remember thinking, "There are words coming out of our mouths, but what are we actually saying?!"

Swimming in the Ganges. We were near enough to the source that it actually is clean water here. Down in Varanasi, I read that the Ganges is officially considered septic. But here, it was blissful and cool and delightful.