Day 9: Turning around

I woke up today happy that I wasn’t on that crazy bus last night. I went to sleep a bit sad because of an email and chat exchange I had after my bus ordeal. Today is a new day and decided that checking my email and face book every time internet was available was just a bad habit. I went to the café for an last omelet, ran into my Canadian friend, told her about my bus ordeal and how ridiculous I feel for having such a hard time making a simple decision. I think being on a trip like this, where you have the time and money and total freedom to do whatever really made it easy to see my faults, like my indecision was intensified, my insecurities everything is so much clearer. Which can also be a not very good thing since I am normally used to ignoring these things or distracting myself from them. But here they are.

Anyway, I was starting to feel mush better about everything. I walked back up towards Dheramkot, found a bench on the side of the hill overlooking trees and a mountain view and I sat there for hours. Listening to music and clearing my mind. Curious school kids passed by, they wanted me to take their picture, one boy wanted to try on my headphones. It was nice to be in the moment.

I had booked a ticket on a different bus for that night. Leaves at 7pm to Rishikesh. The ride was said to be 11-12 hours.

The bus ride turned out to be a pleasant experience. The bus was comfortable and nowhere near full. I had two seats to myself, window open, breeze in my face, headphones on, and no honking, no traffic. The bus had glass all the way up the sides so when the seat is reclined you can see the sky and the tops of the trees as we drive by. The temperature was pleasant. We stopped to help another bus that seemed to have broken down. While waiting outside this woman with a shaved head asked me what was going on. We struck conversation. She was a French journalist who had been at a yoga and meditation retreat for 10 days in Mcloed and is was heading to another place near Rishikesh. She was very nice, smart and I enjoyed talking with her. She is writing a guide to self-development and has had extensive experience with these kinds of retreats. We talked enough that she sensed I wasn’t the happiest fellow. I think her name was Gwyn. I went to sleep looking at the almost full moon, listening to Godspeed you! Black Emperor with the breeze in my face. I was missing Seth.

I woke up and the sun had already started to creep up, this bus ride was not bad at all, we were almost there. Gwyn got off the bus before Rishikesh but left me a piece of paper that said “Santosh Puri Ashram. Be happy.” The be happy part sounded like a good plan.