Happy Pongal to you!

Yesterday was the first day of a four day festival celebrated all over India called Pongal (Harvest Festival). This holiday is particularly cherished by those that live in the Southern Tamil Nadu region where I now reside. Yesterday on our way to school, everyone was busy cleaning the inside and outside of their homes and burning small piles of old things in the street. A bit scarey to drive a car a foot away from an open flame, but alas, as all the Western traveler's have at one time uttered, "It's India!" And it wouldn't be India, if there wasn't some degree of risk involved. Last night everyone was out on the street, but this morning it was empty, as no one had to work. Everyone was at home making Pongal. Pongal is a delicious rice dish made either sweet or savory in a pot. The word Pongal itself mean "to come out", and the rice as it's cooked comes out of the pot as it's heated. The rice is shared with family, friends, and in ancient times was even given back to the government to ensure stability for the greater community. Pongal marks a time in the Sun's movement when it begins to face north, which is considered an auspicious time. The sun is worshiped as the ultimate provider, whom without no(thing) would exist. Tomorrow the cow's will be decorated with ribbons, bells, and other markings to honor them as the embodiment of God's generosity and abundant love. All six of my teachers today shared bits of the traditions of this holiday and what it means to them. One of the most memorable came from Doctor N.C., a brilliant man who uses Yoga as therapy as well as other forms of medicine to heal the sick. He explained that the holiday was a time of realizing all the effort of all the various beings that allow this abundance to be acualized as a harvest. He sat with chalk in his hand and told us it is not just my fingers holding this chalk. The debt is to the people who made the chalk, the people who made this chair that I sit on, the people who made this building, my parents, and their parent, and their parents parents, and my kindergarten teacher, and Krishnamacharya, and all my teacher's and their teachers, and their teacher's teacher's, and all the food they ate to nourish their minds, and the insects that pollinated the flower's that gave them medicine, and on and on...With this extensive and connected gratitiude he asked us to remember this debt that we owe. I think about teaching Yoga and all the teacher's and life experiences that have allowed me to teach these ancient teaching. It's beyond my limited self, it is greater. What a miracle it is that life has shown me a way to plant new Karmic seeds, changing ancient patterns into new breaths to be realized now. It is with great reverance for the ancestors that I use their energy to move me forward, taking the nourishment I need to continue the movement into my life.
Namaste!