Buses Ain’t for Me
Being the first on the bus from Montreal to Toronto, I was given first choice for seating. I chose the first seat on the upper deck. Anywhere on the bus becomes more than a challenge for the legs. “Expect discomfort”, I thought. Then the monitor on the screen above reveals one of those “Did You Know?” snippets of information saying that the thigh bone is stronger than concrete. That’s nice to know. I only wish we could relax it as I wish all the leg bones could. The trip confirmed once again that buses are not meant for legs. I really prefer walking, but at 600 km, it would take over 2 weeks on a marathon level. I did have the fortune to walk in the afternoon. A bulldog on the trail took particular interest in my bag for carrying meditation beads. “It’s not something to chew!” I remarked. His owner called him away and so I was relieved.
I was on this particular trail scouting out a walk for this coming Saturday when young yoga students will get a chance to bond with each other and get to meet a Canadian born swami – me. The winds were strong. One gust picked up a child’s hat who was handheld by his Philippino nanny. The hat flew over to me when I caught it and he, the child, just went hysterical seeing my robes blowing in the wind. It was a novelty for him.
I reflected back to the previous late night when I stood in line for the bus. An Oriental woman stopped when she saw me and asked if I was Buddhist. I said, “No! I’m a Hare Krishna!” Well, that she never heard of before. Curious questions flowed from her inquisitive mind. I obliged to answer and suggested she visit the Montreal Iskcon Centre and meet someone by the name of Anubhava, the sweetest of sweet, the crème del a crème of spiritual administrators. She told me she would. I was thoroughly happy for her while I admit I was struck with that little bit of self pity as I climbed upon the bus of leg agony.
May austerities continue to shine. They remind us of the world of duality.