“How can I resist?” I say as I widen the exit to the mosquito net and following her to the bathroom.

“All you have to do is hold the purified water up here, so I can wash my yoni, OK?”

I take the 10-gallon jug off the stand, elevate one leg on the ridge of the shower, and prop it on my knee. “Like this?”

“A little closer.” She says pressing the little spicket for water. “Usually I don’t mind taking showers with the well water. But red-heads are prone to yeast infections and I just don’t an itchy yoni on my first day.”

“Yeah, that’s no fun.” I say, mesmerized by her rubbing a washcloth between her soft white thighs. She catches my staring, and smiles. After I’m finished she says, “I’ll thank you later.”  I set the water jug back on the stand, as she wraps herself in a towel. 

In the meditation hall, Sri Durga talks on meditation:

We practice stilling the mind, consistently, progressively so that eventually we can conquer it. The technique of meditation is nothing more than a technique, a simple discipline to prepare us for more magic later. In tantra, as you know, we are not trying to transcend the body, but we are creating space for God to descend into us. So think of this practice as a way to prepare the house, make it nice for an honorable guest to visit.  Perhaps if our house is calm and beautiful, your guest will like to stay a little longer.

You see, in the beginning the mind is very messy.  The thoughts are bouncing around, In fact, Swami-Ji says that that the thoughts are like monkeys swinging from tree to tree, and for the uninitiated, the monkey is drunk and stung by a scorpion. Meditation is the way to tame the monkey mind.”

She reviews the basic instructions to meditation. I straighten my spine, relax my body and focus on my breath. It’s hard to not to control the breath. Just by paying attention, it naturally deepens. It’s impossible to act like an “independent, impartial observer.” When my body is relaxed enough we are told to begin mantra meditation in silent repetition. But since I’ve not been initiated, I’m instructed to hear: “So” on the inhale. “Hum” on the exhale. “So” in. “Hum” out. “So. Hum.”  “So’ What does “So-Hum” mean? “So” Am I doing it right? “Hum.” How long are we going to do it for? “So” Sara's naked in the shower. “Hum.” When are we going to make love again? “So” What was Swami-Ji’s talk about last night? “So-Hum.” My knees hurt. “So-Hum.” What is Mother going to say when she hears I quit my job? “So-Hum.” I need to remember to ask for a letter of recommendation from my former boss. “So-Hum.” I’m in Hawaii, filming a political rally. Al Gore is speaking on the environmental crisis. Now, there’s a man who’s got something to say. Why am I thinking about Al Gore? “So-Hum.” I should be thinking about David Koresh. How did he convince all the mothers in his cult to agree to let their 12-year-old daughters sleep with him? Oh, I almost forgot to think: “So-Hum.” And my thinking spins out in a zillion other directions, so insignificant, I don’t even know I’m thinking, until Sri Durga strikes the gong, and the whole room breaks out into resonating Aum. Aum. Aum.  Afterwards, both my legs feel like rubber pincushions, and the chanting no less inane than last night.

When the chanting stops we sit in silence. In the daytime, Swami-Ji he looks even happier than last night. “No lecture today, only darshan.” he says, and devotees line up for a ritualized Q & A session wherein devotees sits before him, one at a time, pouring out their heart’s concerns while he gives them advice. I find this more interesting than the Jerry Springer show, while everyone else sits around in a contemplative stupor.

Amrita, a voluptuous Aussie woman with dirty blond hair sits before Swami-Ji and admits she can’t stop thinking about her ex-boyfriend.

“Well, technically yes.” She says.

“There’s nothing technical about it. If you’re off, you are off. And you must now kill him. Burn his body, release his spirit, mourn his death and get on with your life. Metaphorically speaking. Do you understand?”

“But it’s so painful.” She argues
     “I didn’t say it would be easy. Do you think the monk who finds Buddha in the road is going to find it easy to kill him?”

“No.”

“No, but how else can that monk continue on his path towards liberation. You got it?”

“Yes.” And with that, she smiles, bows at his feet, and goes to the back of the room to meditate.

After a few more diverse questions from various devotees, Sara takes her place on stage and bows at Swami-Ji’s feet.

“My problem, Swami-Ji is that I think I know too much. I’ve been very blessed on the path of yoga, but I’m very new to it.”

“Who says you’re new to it?”

“I only started 5 years ago…” She says.

“In this life.”

“Yes. In this life. And everyone tells me I’m such a good teacher that it’s hard for me to empty myself and start over as a student. Even today, when you instructed us to cultivate the observer, I witnessed myself thinking, I’m already doing that.”

 “Now, before you came to me did you think you knew what I would say?”

“Well, I had an idea.”

“Good. I want you to sit and contemplate the teaching you imagined I would give.” He nods at her.

Sara bows down to his feet, and then sits out of ear-shot to resume her meditation.

No one moves forward. Swami-Ji glances in my direction, and I feel a hand on my back gently pushing me forward. Without knowing who touched me, I awkwardly find myself before Swami-Ji’s feet.

I admit, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, or do here.”

“You’re welcome to let go of the notion that you’re supposed to say or do anything.”

“That’s good.” I say opening the door to an awkward silence. 

“I called you up because you’re sharing the same bed as Saraswati. Are you not?”

“I am.”

“Do you feel that’s in your highest good?” He asks.

“Absolutely.” I blurt.

“Would you be willing to sleep separately?”

“Probably not.” I say defensively.

“So then do you know what I’m going to ask of you?”

“Oh, please don’t.” I say, thinking I’m doomed if he asks us to refrain from sex.

“When you make love, do your best not to ejaculate, at least not yet, can you do that Salvador?”

That’s not so bad, besides I like the advice he’s given everyone else. “I’ll try.” I say, somewhat intrigued by the challenge.

“Can you guess why I’m asking you to save your seed?” He asks.

“Because you don’t want me to have too much fun?” I say and sending him into a fit of belly chuckles.  

“That’s good.” He says composing himself. “Preserving the chi is an ancient practice that comes from Tibetan and Taoist doctors who’ve studied the effects of male ejaculation for centuries. They have exhaustive documentation on how it taxes the kidneys and depletes the entire body of vital energy. The prana(energy) preserved in the seed is the very fuel that it takes to break through to enlightenment. And by retaining it, you’ll not only have more energy towards the divine realm, but you’ll live much longer. Think about it, what happens immediately after you come?”

When I realize it is not a rhetorical question, I answer, “I debate between the smart ass answer, I smoke a cigarette, and the truth. I offer the later, “I usually fall asleep.”

“Do you know why that is?”

“Because I’m tired.”

“Or, you become resistant to the subtle realm that is only available in state of sheer ecstasy.  Orgasm is an egoless state, and if you are too strongly identified with your ego, you will not be able to stay conscious during that vulnerable and expansive experience afterwards. Not to worry, we will train you. We will condition your mind and body to sustain greater states of love, and eventually, your orgasms will propel you to the space between heaven and earth. In the beginning however, you must simply practice preserving the chi.”

He pauses to scratch his beard, then adds,“The immediate benefit is that you will connect with Saraswati on a whole new level. She will feel you more attentive and attractive than ever before. Every moment becomes a gift because you are no longer trying to get anywhere. You’re not waiting for one grand moment that’s more important than any other moment. Got it?”