So here is a picture of me with a sadu (holy person) in the Manakshi temple in Madarai. Madarai was the historical capital of Tamil Nadu and is no less than 1000 years only. Incredible tradition in this city; also at present incredible poverty, famine, congestion, pollution, and suffering. It was very difficult being here because overwhelmingly my interations were with old beggars and homeless children. Also there were many holy sights and experiences here that i am so grateful to have had. One day as I walked around the outskirts of the city temple part of me cracked. There was an old, bearded sadu sitting on the sidewalk with a single lower robe, a water bottle, and a sitting cloth. I watched myself walk over to him, give him a 5-rupee coin, and sit down next to him. Many people were watching me as i got into half-lotus and sat next to him for about an hour. The experience pulled and loosened things in me, and i wrote some spoken word to connect back to it.

The Sadu on the Sidewalk

Old, aging, ancient-the sadu on the sidewalk trains patient-
the vedic equation maintains pain as latent statements of ego placement-
always jumping- tree, tree-branch, branch-vine, vine-
I, I-me, me-mine, mine-
this the mind monkey made- untamed and untrained and going grey with old age-
Shiva! he shouts under his breath in a whisper-that only i can hear-
Literally-
this beggar in raggedy robes blessing the droves of drop dead souls and silent heros-
The city lights-the world sights-they pass him by-
he steps aside-no pride to hide-he wants the world to see-
that yogi-that sadu-that bhakta-that sage-
I and I praise that truth seeker-go deeper, go deeper-don't hesitate
fly higher, burn brighter-this our shared sacred fate!-
as i sit on the sidewalk and slowly go sane-

Made sane by way of knowledge-knowledge of the soul-
soul the stage-stage the place-which plays the living show-
so on the street are people walking and smoking and shopping-
cows grazing trash-cars honking-
I try open eyed to gaze unmoving-so much variety flying by-
dogs, cows, bums, rickshaws and slackjaws-all staring at my singular grooving-
they flow i-they mingle and mix-they move out of sight in their own time-
some slowly, some quick-some healthy, some sick-but always moving, ever moving...
this is the trick!- this is the game-all thoughts the same-all feelings the same-
in that they continue on...varied in expression-still they sing the same song-
impermanence-

The problem is that we make mistakes and take those dogs and cows and passing people as equal-equal to I, me, mine-
We forget that we are the sadu on the street-
smiling through rotting teeth-serenly watching the scene-
'This show is dream!' he says-a gentle mental stream of word thought and sun beam-
the sadu knows this and suffers no pain-it is we that choose to say in the deep drama rain-
complaining insane thinking we're on the stage-thinking actor and witness are one in the same-
Hey!-we are one-we are the same-
but you can't think this-its intrinsic-innate existence-
the sadu gets high on this-from his eyes stream bliss-cause the dream is seen for what it is-

In breath-out breath-come to rest-feel fresh-
abide residing deep in the chest-the heart beat pressed against the breast-
and the man wrapped in robes is the first to attest to the true gain-
release from the cycle-release from pain-
release from endless wandering in vain-
as i sit on the sidewalk and slowly go sane...