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I was 17 years old when I joined a Yoga class
at a place called "Sharanam Ganesha".
Everything there,
from the images on the walls to how the words sounded,
seemed more familiar than strange to me.
I joined and never left.
I was blessed to have Vera Shivani as my teacher,
who, besides teaching me Yoga,
told me about a speech on "Vedanta",
the final part of India's ancient scriptures.
And, for that, I'm forever thankful to her.
I went to that speech,
sat at the back of the room,
and took all the notes I could on what the long-braided woman said.
She said God was not a matter of faith, but of knowledge.
I was basically in shock after listening to her.
I knew I had found the one who would have the answers
or who would understand my questions.
It didn't matter whether that knowledge came from far away.
That long-braided woman
would soon become my teacher.
Or better yet: I'd soon become her disciple.
I've been studying Vedanta with Gloria ever since.
Gloria Arieira left to study in India in 1974.
She was 20 years old when she boarded a cargo ship
at the Santos port towards Singapore,
then took a train to Bangkok,
a plane to Kolkata,
and yet another train to Bombay.
It took her 45 days to reach India from Brazil.
She came back in 1978
and has been teaching Vedanta in Brazil ever since.
The Vedic tradition is basically an oral one,
conveyed from the master to his disciples.
Thus, the teaching methodology is kept coherent and traditional.
The line of teaching, from the bottom up,
starts with Gloria Arieira,
who studied with Swami Dayananda,
a disciple of Sw. Chinmayananda,
who learned from Sw. Tapovan
and so on,
up until we reach Shankara,
the preeminent master of Advaita Vedanta,
and Dakshinamurti,
a deity that symbolizes Shiva as the original teacher.
Let's go on with our story.
In 2005, I went to India for the first time, all by myself,
and stayed there for three months.
That culture and those symbols were already a part of me,
but I wasn't thinking about religion or Hinduism,
or whether I was Hindu or not.
Those Vedanta classes were so breathtaking
that I didn't care about who wrote what, when, where or how.
It was Vedanta, plain and simple. All the rest didn't matter.
Looking at the pictures,
I realize I have been a Hindu since my first Yoga class.
It's just I had never noticed.
I reached Rishikesh on the eve of Mahashivaratri,
the celebration of the Great Night of Shiva.
I spent the whole day at the temple attending the ritual
at the banks of the Ganges river.
It was when I first knew I was Hindu.
Or when I first realized it.
I also realized that Hindus are those who are born Hindus.
This roamed my mind.
The next day, I asked an Indian friend
whether I was Hindu, since I felt like one.
He said that I was more of a Hindu than his sister,
and this was enough for me.
In 2007, Gloria gathered a group to go to India.
The idea that originated the trip
was the intention to visit Balaji's temple, in Tirupati.
Venkatesvara's temple, mostly known as Balaji's,
is the most visited devotional site in the world:
it is visited by 50 to 100 thousand pilgrims per day.
It is not an easy temple to visit:
it was Gloria's third attempt.
The first was in the 70's, when she lived in India.
In the North, our goal was to visit
two of the four major pilgrimage sites in the Himalaya.
They are called Char Dham.
Namely, the source of the Ganges, in Gomukh,
and the Badrinath temple.
I videotaped this trip as well as I could
and made a film about Gloria.
I wanted to know her story.
I was a mix of devotee and documentarian:
I would often hold the camera with one hand
and carry a bag of offerings with the other.
I hesitated between filming and saluting with namaskaram.
In 2010, a new trip was announced.
We were going to visit Yamunotri and Kedarnath,
completing our pilgrimage at the Himalayas,
in addition to the places where Shankara was born and lived.
The video shots are always as good as they could be.
Having said all that,
it would be good that a movie on devotion
started with a prayer:
Om. I salute Shri Shankara, the temple of the Shruti (Vedas),
of the Smrti (Bhagavadgita) and of the Puranas (Ramayana, Mahabharatam).
Ocean of compassion and the one who blesses the world with happiness
I salute again and again Shri Badarayana, who is Vishnu,
and Shri Shankaracharya, who is Shiva,
the ones who respectively wrote the Brahmasutra and its comment.
I salute the lineage of teachers which starts with Shiva,
has Shankara in the middle and goes up to my teacher.
Om. May He protect us both,
may He allow us to appreciate (the reality)
may we have plenty of energy
may our study have plenty of light
may there never be misunderstandings among us.
Om. Peace. Peace. Peace.
For those of you expecting portraits of chaos, riot and crowds,
this trip starts peacefully in the south.
The weather there is warm
and the streets are less chaotic than in the north of India.
There's plenty of coconut water and bananas,
and people are mostly kind and helpful.
Traditionally, in Shankara's family,
the first male that was born would be named Shankara
and the first lady would be named Arya,
which is how his mother was called.
Among boat trips and visits to temples,
we planted trees and attended classes.
I knew that our movie would start with a chant to the teachers,
at the house where Shankara was born.
Gloria talked about the importance of such teachers
and said that being there was the highest pilgrimage.
I was crying and filming.
In Tamil Nadu, we went to Kanyakumari,
India's southernmost tip.
We intended to visit Kanyakumari's temple,
but it was closed.
So we prayed from far away.
We celebrated Ganesha's day,
the dearest and most popular deity
which represents, among other aspects,
the power that removes obstacles.
Ganesha is praised before all activities
and he is present at all Hindu doors.
Even Gloria's interview to "The Hindu" newspaper,
with a picture on the cover,
I managed to film.
Everything was surrounded by a lot of music and dance.
Each gesture, each symbol,
everything was impregnated with holiness.
But it was in Chennai,
once we met with Swami Paramarthananda,
who had studied with Gloria in 1976,
that this movie found its track.
Any questions?
Paula, where is Paula?
Oh, there she is!
Swamiji, is Vedanta a religion?
When I decided to film this second pilgrimage,
I started to consider Gloria's students
who had converted to Hinduism through a ritual.
How would they abide by what they swore at the ritual
in a place far away, in a distant culture?
Some had converted without ever visiting India!
During the trip, I realized how different
were the opinions and feelings of those who were there,
regardless of official initiation.
I realized that what was clear for me
wasn't as clear for others.
We saw Vedanta, religion and devotion differently.
To understand it better, I went back to where it all began.
When did you first realize that all this
was included in a religious context?
That this was part of a religion?
When I realized this was part of a religion...
-was that the question? -Yes.
It was here.
I had already...
given up on religion for my life.
I used to be a catholic and even went to Sunday school,
then I studied kardecist spiritism
and none of it made much sense or spoke to my heart.
I had settled with Yoga as a spiritual path
and I was happy to be spiritualized but not religious.
It worked for me.
But then, as I arrived in India and saw a Puja...
When I listened to Vedic chanting,
I was like: "Whoa! What is that?"
It was gradual.
At first, the study was mostly intellectual.
I just attempted to understand it.
But then I opened up as it started making more sense
and the pieces started to fit.
And as I like chanting, not only Vedic chanting,
it made me even more open.
That was it.
Well...
I think I've never had a problem with it,
with this subject of religion.
Do you consider yourself Hindu?
I do. Most definitely.
Considering my daily life...
I can't really say otherwise. What would I be?
A while after starting to study Vedanta with Gloria,
she started teaching classes on how to perform a Puja.
I went to those classes and saw it didn't suit my taste.
I've always thought of myself as a Hindu more than anything else.
As a little boy, I didn't really understand it,
but I had an idea.
There were certain signs and facts
that one interprets subjectively.
I don't know if I'd consider myself Hindu.
You think you're not Hindu.
I don't know.
Hinduism is a tradition passed on from parents to children.
In the initiation ritual of the Gayatri,
the father has to be present at the ritual,
with a series of implications.
The ritual that was performed for us, well, it was kind of...
well, it was kind of...
-Adapted? -Adapted!
Swami authorized it, of course,
but our parents weren't there, so it was modified.
If you ask an orthodox Hindu, he will say we're not Hindus.
But this doesn't bother me.
I don't know when it happened, exactly.
In the beginning, Gloria didn't use to have
nearly any elements of devotion.
She used to teach at her house,
so all she had was a picture of Shankara at a side table,
and she used to burn incense.
I never saw it apart from a religious context,
to tell you the truth.
Yes, because I've always been on this quest,
and religion has always been a part of my life.
The altar was a bit strange at first because the meaning was unfamiliar,
but it's never been a problem. On the contrary.
We never studied anything out of a religious context.
It was a spiritual quest, so religion was always involved.
With time, we began to understand and even enjoy
the ritualistic and cultural aspects.
The role of religion within Yoga was something secondary to me,
even if I didn't know much about it.
Vedanta had never been introduced to me as a religion,
but as a means for self-knowledge
available to any human being from any religion.
Then, after a lot of study,
I understood that religiosity is an expression of maturity
when dealing with a world which is bigger than us
and whose variables we can't control.
This relationship with the general order of the universe is necessary
for us to have maturity.
I understood it with time.
It wasn't originally presented to me as such.
When I went to India, in 1974,
I had very, very little information.
What saved me from having no information at all about India
was this research I made once about the country.
So, I went to India to look for the meaning of life,
to know what reality is...
This is how I was when I left.
The little I knew was what I had learned
from Swami Chinmayananda's speeches,
but nothing was mentioned on religion.
When I got to India, at the ashram,
what I found was a religious situation,
since the temple is a very special place.
So, I understood that the whole situation
was inserted into a religious context.
But it did not bother me.
I saw that religiosity as meaningful.
I was always looking for the meaning of things:
why does one wear tikka,
why does one do this and that,
why is namaskaram done as it is...
And I didn't get great answers from just anyone at first,
because common people just don't know.
But, if I asked Swamiji, he would explain.
So, I saw that it all had a meaning.
I didn't really make a choice.
Knowledge and the culture connected to it
engaged me, little by little.
But this wouldn't necessarily happen, as it didn't,
to all the westerners.
I, personally, identified myself with the chants and rituals.
I wanted to learn it right away.
I soon learnt how to chant the whole ritual at the temple,
the whole arati, the complete ritual,
and other chants as well because I identified myself.
I realized that t wasn't a requirement,
but, for me,
this perspective of an Ishvara that encompasses the entire universe
and a religious practice, a religion,
that evokes the whole,
even if this whole is symbolized by any object
appeared to me as something magnificent.
It was a great perspective,
and whoever was behind this was magnificent.
I've considered myself Hindu, and this is an interesting factor.
Well...
since Hinduism implies that
Hindus are those born from Hindu parents,
and there is no doubt about it within Hinduism itself,
or even need to discuss that.
So, I've never introduced myself as Hindu.
Deep in my heart, I was Hindu,
but I never gave it too much thought
because, for me,
whatever I was, it was settled,
but, to a Hindu in India,
I couldn't say I was Hindu for lack of acceptance.
So, I just wouldn't deal with this subject at all, of being Hindu.
Do you think of Hinduism as a religion?
-Yes, totally. -Undoubtedly.
I check that "other" box in registration forms!
We have Ganesha as the remover of obstacles,
and which ones should he remove?
The mental obstacle of ignorance about one's nature.
It's something that...
It is a religion, but...
I don't know, for me this is not an issue.
But was it a religion to you?
Gloria always presents Vedanta as something other than a religion,
so I used to get this message from her,
even though there was an altar at Vidya Mandir
when I first joined, so it was something immediate.
But she presented it as something
that was not essential to study:
one could have any religion and still study Vedanta.
In this case, I usually say,
even though it is not a perfect way to put it,
but it's as good as it gets,
that I study Hindu philosophy.
"Philosophy" is an inappropriate word to describe it,
although etymologically correct,
since philosophy means love for wisdom,
and we do have it, it's even related to the name "Vidya Mandir",
"Temple of Knowledge".
However, it's not an intellectual study
as western philosophy essentially is,
where your understanding of the world
and your personal life are separate things.
I do consider myself Hindu.
But was it so since the beginning,
or did anyone ask you that at a given point?
Yes, well...
You have to say it. People want to know.
If you're a religious person, with religious habits
and you make your choices based on values
which diverge from the usual ones,
people will ask: "what kind of religion is this?
Where do you go to?"
For some time, I couldn't really answer that.
Then, one day, I started saying: "I'm Hindu."
Yes, because I abide by Hindu values,
I have Hindu habits and I follow Hindu practices...
I'm Hindu.
When filling out a form that asks about religion...
It's tough. It's really tough.
Even though I remember that,
in a ritualistic moment, my first communion,
which is a rite of passage,
I remember that I had a samadhi experience
in my first communion,
and of course I had no idea what a samadhi was,
and once I understood what it was,
I remembered that feeling of plenitude.
I asked a friend of mine, then: "Are you also feeling this?"
And it was a ritual.
I can't say I'm not religious.
I write on forms that I'm Hindu.
I study Vedanta, live the practices and a life of Yoga
and this is Hinduism. I'm Hindu.
I identify myself as Hindu.
And I say I'm a Hindu when asked.
It became stronger once I got initiated.
Initiation is a landmark. It's not necessary, though.
You don't have to go through upanayana to be a Hindu.
I don't see it this way.
If you follow a Yoga based lifestyle as prescribed by the tradition,
seeking self-knowledge and abiding by Dharma and values,
and you cherish the tradition, you're Hindu,
regardless of a ritual.
Vedanta and Hindu religion were never a problem to me.
It was hard to express it to others.
But once I did it, it wasn't a problem anymore.
When I came to Brazil and started teaching,
I immediately added, without delay,
the devotional aspect.
Some people wanted me to start soon,
so I decided to teach a few classes in January of 1979,
even though classes would only start officially in March.
I decided to teach a short text in January,
so that it would last until the beginning of March.
I chose "Guru Stotram". Since the beginning,
I chose a text that has more to do with devotion
than with Vedanta itself.
I taught people how to chant "Guru Stotram"
and I also explained the meaning of the text,
Vedanta as a means for knowledge,
the relationship between teacher and student, etc.
This was already in me,
and I never separated things.
Since the beginning, all my students
would see pujas,
listen to chants...
It has always been part of it.
I don't remember anyone questioning it.
It was an option to come or not,
and the satsangas were always relatively full.
It all happened like this.
I wasn't baptized when I was born.
A ritual was performed to me by Gloria.
I have pictures, even:
me and my family in the living room
and an altar with Ganesha.
And Gloria performed the ritual.
When I was born, she was there chanting mantras
and Vedic chants.
When my children were born,
especially Carolina, my daughter,
when she was enrolled in school...
Because when the boys enrolled and were asked about religion,
they didn't answer, they said: "none".
Which was something that didn't exactly bother me,
but I asked myself how one could introduce oneself
as practically having no religion when, in fact,
one has a highly religious life.
But I decided not to go into details since it was too confusing.
However, when she was older and had to answer this at school,
she said: "We have to write 'Hindu'. We have to do it."
I said: "Why?", and it was a bit confusing,
but she said: "I can't write anything else. I'm Hindu."
And I ended up bringing this issue to Swamiji.
I asked him: "What do I do? What am I, religiously?"
He said: "Well, you're Hindu".
I said: "But, traditionally, I won't be accepted as such."
He said: "It doesn't matter. A person with a life such as yours,
who teaches Vedanta and respects the culture
is Hindu, and that's it."
I respect people regardless of their religion.
Any religion to which one surrenders one's heart is valid.
I've been in this for so long, now,
and have absorbed so much of the philosophy and culture
and I wouldn't know how to tell it apart from who I am.
But I don't feel comfortable saying that I'm Hindu
because I know I'm not, see?
I respect it, I love it, I feel at home, there,
but I'm Brazilian.
Talking to Santosha, my ex-husband, about that,
for him, Indian, it was clear that Vedanta was a religion,
while, for me, according to Gloria, it wasn't one:
there was an impasse between us.
So I decided to ask this question to Sw. Dayananda at a satsanga.
Most of the people there were Indians,
so he said it was a religion.
I don't remember the details, now, but he said it was a religion.
I then talked about this with Gloria once again.
Do you remember that, when we visited Sw. Paramarthananda,
I asked the same question?
Swamiji, is Vedanta a religion?
Vedanta transcends religion.
It's above it.
So, anybody can study Vedanta
and follow their religion
and benefit from Vedanta.
Vedanta is not a religion.
It is a means of knowledge.
You don't need to follow a religion to study Vedanta.
It was always a clear message at Vidya Mandir:
Vedanta is the key aspect,
and one doesn't have to be religious to study Vedanta.
But it is immersed in a tradition which encompasses religiosity.
There is no separation.
So, for us, it was all very natural.
As we joined, we understood it
and we bought the whole package,
which includes devotional disciplines and rituals.
We really identified ourselves.
In the beginning, as we performed religious practices,
we were asked: "What is your religion?"
It was hard to answer,
since our focus was to study Vedanta.
How should we explain that? No one knows what Vedanta is!
For some time, then, we had trouble explaining,
but there was no internal conflict about religion.
It was never taught to me
by my two great teachers
that Vedanta is a religion.
Yes, because Vedanta presents itself as a pramana,
Upanishad pramana, means of knowledge.
Vedanta is the final part of the Vedas:
the Upanishads are in the final part of the Vedas,
and Upanishads are pramana, means of knowledge
for Atma, which is Brahman.
In this way, we can't say that Vedanta is a religion.
At the same time, if we think religion
as a reconnection of an individual
with the whole,
we will have to admit that Vedanta
does connect the individual to the whole,
since it says that Atma is Brahman.
It connects both through knowledge.
If we agree with this meaning, then Vedanta is a religion.
On the other hand,
religion involves religious practice,
and we don't have that.
A person who studies Vedanta is not required,
as it was not required from me,
to convert to anything,
or even to go to the temple every day,
to get initiated in all those Vedic, Hindu rituals...
those are not necessarily part of the study of Vedanta.
It is then difficult to say if Vedanta is a religion or not
when we don't know one's concept of religion.
Vedanta praises the importance of living a life of Yoga.
It is useless to study it theoretically, intellectually,
as if Vedanta were a mere philosophy.
Maybe we could say that, if I only had two options,
as in: "is Vedanta a religion or a philosophy?",
I'd have to say it's a religion,
since, when it's studied as a mere intellectual philosophy,
it doesn't bear fruit.
It just doesn't.
But if it is studied in a devotional way
and with a religious, spiritual lifestyle,
it bears fruit.
So, it depends on the meaning.
I wouldn't say it's a philosophy and neither a religion.
Vedanta is not a religion
in the sense that a student doesn't have to convert.
Religion has to do...
with identity.
The religion of a person affects one's guts,
one's beliefs, one's options
and one's ancestors.
It's easy to find people who react to religion in different ways
not due to the clear or to the common meaning of religion,
but rather due to a religious identity
which may not be so clear.
We had never even been to India
and we considered ourselves Hindu.
It was totally curious.
And when you got there...
It was surprisingly like we thought it would be.
It was weird to feel at home
at a place deemed too different:
"You'll see when you get there. It's nothing like you expect.
It's chaotic!"
And I felt at home.
I really felt at ease.
The temples, the reverence...
just like what I have for home altar.
The reverences I paid in India are the same I pay at Vidya Mandir.
It's all very familiar.
It's weird to be Hindu in Brazil.
And it's also weird to be a Brazilian Hindu in India.
Indians always say: "You! Are you Hindu?"
Because we walk around with a dot on our foreheads,
we have images on our wallets
and, as you touch Patrick's shoulders,
you'll feel that cord. Indians always reach for that.
They ask: "Oh! Where are you from?"
"Brazil", we say.
And they're like: "Whoa! How come?
A Hindu in Brazil?"
Then we say: "Yes, I study it..."
Proceeding with our trip,
we left the calmness of the south
to experience the shaking provided by the northern roads.
Now, I have to go back to the beginning of the trip,
when, during a boat trip,
we talked to an astrologer,
to whom we asked how our pilgrimage would be like.
Will we be able to arrive in Yamunotri and Kedarnath?
There is a place you won't be able to reach.
There may be a delay at one place.
What was that, Gloria?
There will be a delay at one of our stops.
We won't be able to reach one of our destinations?
We won't make it?
It cannot be said. There might be a delay.
You will have more expenses than you calculated.
We will spend more than we anticipated!
In certain places, there are a few obstacles.
The bus may have problems on the way.
But you'll be able to travel around.
You will overcome all the obstacles.
There will be challenges on your way.
There is a lot of grace.
A few among you will be returning to those places over and over.
There were so many of us talking and in different languages
that no one really understood
or paid much attention to what she said.
On the day that we went up to Yamunotri
it was raining a lot
and a few wondered whether it was safe to proceed.
Gloria, during breakfast,
said she'd go up until where her merit took her.
Me too.
And off we went.
We left Barkot, our hotel at the base,
carrying nothing but a small backpack.
We only had what we were wearing.
I even left my camera and all the footage behind.
The plan was to come back from Yamunotri
to Barkot on the same day
and proceed to Kedarnath on the next morning.
But that was not really what happened.
It was already dark when we were faced with an obstacle:
there was a light pole blocking the road.
After a risky maneuver by the bus at the edge of a cliff,
we managed to reach Ranachati,
a small village where we spent seven days.
There, we had shelter and food,
electricity from a generator for a few hours in the evening
and communication only with Indian phones:
there was no way to reach anyone in Brazil.
All we had was friendship, chanting, prayers, music
and amazing Vedanta classes.
And much of what we needed
we found at the "old grandpa's shop"
as we dubbed it.
improvised bed sheets, toothbrushes,
talcum powder, notebooks...
Ironically, the only thing we couldn't find was toilet paper.
It rained a lot for most of the time.
We were always together
and shared many special moments.
Mariele chanting Hanuman Chalisa at our Ranachati's hotel.
Jiva and Ishvara are not different, they are one and the same.
After explaining the difference between Karma and JÒana,
and all that,
Arjuna still insists on the same thing:
"I want to have the experience of seeing you".
Experiences are always dualistic. There are no exceptions.
It involves an experiencer and an experimented objects.
When one asks to experience Ishvara,
it is already implied that Ishvara is different from me.
Apparently, all the teachings up until chap. 11 (Bhagavad Gita)
had been useless.
Maybe staying in Ranachati for one week wasn't in our plans,
but it was in plans greater than ours.
Knowing that there is order in the universe
and trusting it
is part of Vedanta,
and studying Vedanta was what brought us there,
so there was no way out of it.
Renouncing and reflecting was all we could do on those days.
Ranachati became a special place for us.
After spending a few days,
we found out that the village's temple was for Shani, Saturn,
brother of Yamunotri.
We went there to ask for blessings.
We decided to leave Ranachati by walking 15Km
down to one large road block
where policemen and jeeps were waiting for us
to take us to Barkot.
On the following day, we went to a field
and took a helicopter to Dhera Dum.
From above, we could see how bad the roads were.
Group meeting at Dhera Dum after being rescued.
Before anything else,
I'd like to congratulate you all.
-Have we passed the test? -Indeed!
It was all a set up!
Waiting for the helicopter in Barkot.
There is the teaching stage, but the altar has to be higher.
The altar is clearly the main feature.
When people walk in here,
they can't pretend not to see the altar.
They will at least wonder about it.
I don't think they assume it's just a decorative piece,
with the lamps on and all.
But they can refrain from questioning.
One can sit in class and refrain from even thinking about it.
It is not necessary.
One has to have some sort of relationship with Ishvara, though.
Without that, we'll get nowhere.
-One just can't understand... -If one denies Ishvara.
If one accepts just Brahman and denies Ishvara,
it won't work.
Vedanta doesn't work like this.
I think that my biggest challenge is not with Ishvara.
If being a devotee is understanding Ishvara,
the presence of a bigger order
which governs the world,
I'd say it's even natural for a scientist to understand that.
I joined college in order to understand Ishvara,
the laws of physics.
So, accepting that there is an order
is not really my problem. My problem is...
is devotion in a ritualistic way.
Believing in rituals
as in lighting a fire, pouring ghee in it,
chanting a mantra and believing that it will make it rain.
Well, I can't really...
I can't imagine my life without my current religiosity,
without my daily rituals.
Life is all about that, for me.
When I work and get paid, it's a visit from Mahalakshmi.
When I light up my stove to cook my meals,
it's a visit from Agni.
You know?
When I clean my house,
I'm revering it:
my house is a Deva.
The fire that cooks my food is a Deva.
Looking in the mirror, the fire in my eyes is a Deva.
I can't... and it's rather funny: "is it a religion or not?"
but I can't see my life or think about my own self
without those rituals: this is life as I know it.
I'm not practicing a religion:
I'm simply living life according to my values.
I can't live without that.
This tradition has always touched us in a strong way.
It made sense.
People ask: "why do you chant so much? How can it be?"
"Actually, how can't it be?", I answer. It's impossible.
When one looks at an altar, a deity form, a mantra...
it's amazing!
You feel like saluting it with a namaskaram
and meditating, praying. It's something very strong.
For one who isn't devoted, you've been a real pilgrim!
-Visited a lot of temples! -Indeed!
-An irony of destiny! -I've visited some more than once.
It's true! I had never thought of that!
-It's true! -You are a true pilgrim!
I don't know why I've been there so often.
Maybe I just love India.
I guess it's love. Love for it all.
The highest form of devotion is appreciating Ishvara.
Then, we'd say: "You may not have a religion,
but you're a devotee."
But once the person acknowledges oneself as a devotee,
one may follow any kind of ritualistic.
One doesn't need to follow Hinduism.
Whichever one is fine.
There is no difference.
The heart of the pilgrim knows that getting somewhere
is only half the way.
The journey is only completed once he comes home transformed.
Going is imperative,
but coming back is also good.
On the way, I had confidence, I had to wait
and I had to move on.
I also had to let go of things:
among clothes and life projects,
fears and anger,
a pilgrim carries as much as he can bear.
As soon as I heard from Gloria that God is not a matter of faith
but of knowledge,
Vedanta started to be part of my life.
Swami Dayananda says that God is not infallible,
but that the infallible is God.
How can a small change in the order of words
mean so much?
Differently from what most people think,
there are not many gods in Hinduism:
everything that exists,
the entire universe
is God.
Since everything is consciousness,
we can choose among various forms to relate with the Whole,
which is apparently so distant and abstract.
The experience of plenitude can stem from a simple sunset.
The world turns around its axis every single day.
And, even though we know how the planets move,
we are always amazed and say that the sun rises and sets.
Every single day.
Life is a gorgeous illusion.
Arriving at Yamunotri temple
Praise to Yamuna, who is Maya!
Praise to Mother Saraswati!
Praise to Lord Shri Shankara!
Praise to Mother and Father!
Praise to the Guru, who teaches the truth!
Praise to holy Mother Gloria!
Praise to the group from Brazil!
About _________,
does anyone want to ask questions or make comments?
We are here...
Would you like to say something, Marina?
I would like to say that
not even for one second I regretted going there
and I would do it all over again.
It was great!
A Film by Marina Gante
Part of the group planned to go to Kedarnath in October 2013
but once again the rain stormed the region.
Basically, nothing but the temple resisted the "Himalayan Tsunami".
-Can we take a picture? -Beats me!
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