Shoes the Colour of Dust

The Skechers in the back of my car had started out as real shoes, but were now gardening shoes at best.  What colour is the dust in Rishikesh?  The shoes are a dirty taupe, and since they're already two-thirds of the way to the throw-away pile, I'm thinking I could wear them and then ditch them after the trip.

A month in India, 3 different ashrams and an adventure that I've sidled up to since a friend suggested I attend an information session given by her yoga instructor. India's never been on my list of places to see before I die - too much poverty, pollution, noise and sensory overload.  So what was I doing?

The closest I'd been to India was Nepal, more specifically, the Royal Chetwan National Park in Nepal.  The Park was wilderness filled with rhinos, elephants, water buffalo and a lodge that passed for luxury on the border with India.  Kathmandu was a different story - people, cars, pollution, heat, noise, cows and street kids trying to piece together some kind of existence through it all. But there was an exotic excitement to it, provided that you could retreat to a hotel room in the afternoon for some silent coolness.

So what I know is that ashrams are retreats for yoga practitioners; places to shed your bad habits, frenzied thoughts, social media obsessions.  Get back to simplicity, spirituality, basic life experience.  What if I've never been spiritual? What if there's nothing there to uncover?  Ever since I said yes to the adventure, I've see-sawed between eager anticipation of becoming a serene, patient, tolerant, flexible human, and fear that I won't come close.

There are 12 of us on this journey and I know one of them.  We leave Saturday for Delhi and then on to Rishikesh where yoga supposedly originated, and where I will learn what colour the dust is.