Ed Templeton

Ahmm — shuffle/slide — HarmmmmKshhhhh — sway/shuffle — Kshhhhhkshhhh — eyesdown — AhhhhHrrrrrr — slide/flap/flap — Ahemmmm… The mridanga drum beats it’s complex rhythm, the Krishna devotees chant, sing, clap and swirl, enrapt.  Self-conscious I mumble and bumble and shuffle. Willing. Trying. Doddering. Those hard years mining the night-shift at the coal-face of disco in London and Brighton counts for nought as my ancestral British reserve refuses to release my body from it’s cloying, smothering, maternal grasp, the spirit of Uncle John at my cousin’s wedding consumes me as I awkwardly scuff my feet from side to side and waggle my elbows, a duck desperate for flight. My overly occupied mind disrupts the connections of sound to soul to body. Those subterranean East End nights fuelled by intoxicants of varying legality once connected me briefly, albeit artificially to the now, to the moment. Cares, worries and mind-chatter dissipated as I plugged deep in to the sound, my body responding intuitively, drawing shapes captured stroboscopically by my fellow dancers…. ErrrmmmAhmmm-Hum… But the spirit’s left me, the intoxicants worn off leaving only their grimy corporeal decay in their wake… HrrrriKshhhh — leftflap/rightfapslide — KshhhhnnhKshh — slipdodder — Hrrrrryuhhhry — AhhhhHrrrrrr — slide/waggle…. It’s truly wonderful to witness such worship yet frustrating to be an observer, on the outside looking in. It’s a peculiar path from illegal rave to an ashram in India, but one I can trace using surf and yoga as marker points and my resolute, yet impatient pursuit of presence, nowness as the pathway. Each step along the way forms a purer connection to the soul than the last; rave, surf, yoga, meditation...music/poison, adrenaline, body, mind. Each one important, intertwined. And so I googled my way to this ashram, to this small temple room and to this Bhajan with a small group of Hare Krishna devotees, lost in devotion, tucked away from the madding crowds quietly, passionately, assuredly introducing surfers to India, introducing Indians to surf whilst worshiping Krishna, as the “Absolute Truth or Super Consciousness that is the cause of all things” in servitude to their guru. I came to surf in the most vibrantly spiritual place in the world, where religion is woven into the fabric of the culture, a fabric richly patterned with myriad deities and where spirituality is worn proudly on the sleeve. A place where anything seems possible, an open, loving, violent, charming, stinking, rotting, blossoming place where smiles come easily, spittle flows freely and unabashed stares inquisitively penetrate our ‘white skins’. The place which lured a wanderer, a spiritual seeker three decades ago, the place in which an older, wiser guru Swami Narasingha now teaches a spiritual path to his devotees in two Ashrams. The place who’s 4700 miles of coast he’s surfed, mostly alone, since the mid 70’s. India. Each day, after dawn Bhajans, the devotees at the Kaliya Mardana Krishna Temple, aka The Surf Ashram, make the paddle across the wide lagoon like estuary of the Shambavi river where it filters into the Arabian Sea, to surf the river-mouth banks on this otherwise deserted six mile stretch of palm fringed, powder sanded coastline. Surfing here, in the warm easy rollers of tropical India, reaffirms the fun side of surfing, where the crowds, ego and aggro of most line-ups in the world are simply non-existent. Shyama-Kunda and Satya, ashram kids and the future of surf in India, mew, bark and squeal ‘Hare Krishna’ in fits of giggles as sets approach. Daruka Das, an endearing surfer from San Diego, with a glowing enthusiasm enthusiasm for surf and it’s physical and mental union of body & soul,  shouts me into waves, whooping waist high sets and gifting smiles to us all. Local students and village kids are encouraged to overcome Indian’s culturally engendered suspicion of the ocean and are welcomed to borrow boards and receive tuition in wave-riding alongside the surfers responsibility to their environment. Together we chat, laugh, encourage and play. Experts to beginners, Swami to guest, student to devotee, we share the ocean’s gift. Ever had a whoop and a grin from a Swami as you glide by? Let me assure you, it’s good for the soul. This isn’t high-octane, cutting-edge surf but it sure is fun and isn’t the best surfer the one who’s having the most fun? Swami Narasingha’s path to becoming a devotee, a swami, a guru and now founder of the surf ashram is one of commitment and dedication way beyond my casual spiritual musings. To become a Swami — One who controls his senses — was a life “...that suited my nature perfectly; freedom to travel, solitude, contemplation, a philosophical outlook on life and an opportunity to do some good in the world” he reveals. Yet significantly we share surf as connection points on our personal spiritual path. I believe surfing introduces being ‘present’ to even the most unsuspecting of us and in most spiritual traditions the present moment holds the key to liberation. Connecting with the moment is to connect with something beyond the external form, something unnameable, ineffable, a deep, inner essence. Swami Narasingha puts it this way; “The 'Be Here Now' experience when riding waves (especially intense waves) is something that most surfers would say is a moment of transcendence where everything else fades to the back ground and all the senses and the mind are focused on one point. I think that is a valid spiritual experience, the only difference being that yoga and meditation enable one to gradually sustain that experience at every moment and in all activities of life.” Jack Hebner grew up in the ‘Be Here Now’ generation and began surfing Jacksonville Beach, Florida in 1963. “I can honestly say that surfing gave me my first chance in life to see things objectively and to contemplate what it all meant. Sitting on my board in the water as a kid and observing everything that was happening on the beach and thinking about the Vietnam war was my first experience that the observer was different from what he observed. The self being the observer and the world being what he observes... Surfing, being out there in the water and looking back toward the land still gives me that same experience, again and again,” the Swami reflects. In ’65 he moved to California, the epicentre of the East meets West awakening of the sixties, serendipitously surfing Swami’s in Encinitas, whilst exploring hatha yoga and meditation. His soul surfing explorations later took him to Maui where he joined a group called the Krishna Yoga Community and from then the surf/soul balance tipped in favour of the latter as he found himself a guru, the Hindu spiritual leader and founder of the Hare Krishna movement, the late A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada. Yet Jack’s devotional wanderings continued, three years in Africa body surfing empty breaks and borrowing boards in South Africa, through Arabia and the Emirates eventually meeting up with his guru in India, where at thirty years of age he was initiated by his guru to become a Krishna Swami and given the name Swami Narasingha. By 1985, many years after his guru’s death he drifted away from the westernised Krishna Institution, away from the spotlight, delving deeper for the spiritual truths behind this 2000 year old Indian tradition. He followed his guru’s will for him to spread Krishna consciousness throughout India and eventually founded the Krishna Consciousness mission, a down-to-earth, personal, welcoming group as opposed to the often alienating, in-your-face, street-storming, bell-ringing, shaved headed, orange robed Krishnas that stormed the west in the sixties and seventies. “Yoga, meditation on Krishna and spiritual practices are a way of life for me, as is surfing. I have found a unique blend of the two and I just thought that sharing with others would be the right thing to do. My motto in life is Give to Live... In ashram life we strive to give and to share with other people as much as possible. By starting the surfing ashram we wanted to share moments of the pure blissful stoke in an uncrowded lineup and offer a taste of India's spiritual tradition along with that for those that might be interested,”  Swami Narasingha recounts, and so in 2005 the Kaliya Mardana Krishna Ashram opened it’s doors, initially just to devotees and then a couple of years ago to paying guests. Like me. … HrrrriiiKrshhnn — waggle/stutter — HaaaaKshhnnn — slipdodder — Hrrryyyuhhhry — slipslide — RrrrmmmmRmmmmma As above, so below. Air and liquid meld to form a seamless silver union. Separation only apparent when the lower section of the void begins to undulate as if an east african hand is shaking creases from a tight-wove sheet of silver silk, ripples unfurling west to meet us on the Indian shores. Seven creases shaken, the union of sea and sky rejoins. The silk now ironed, flawless, pacific.The overcast sky, cumbersome with rain reflects perfectly the silver-grey of the sky off the glass-smooth, almost viscous surface of the water. Windless. Absolute. The diffused light casts no shadows on the limpid surface. There is no colour difference between ocean and air, no horizon, no landmarks. As above, so below. It’s only as the wave looms above you that you realize it’s a wave, take-offs are late and as you drop, the sky, looking like the sea, looks back at you, looking at yourself. Intuition is your only friend, instinct surfing without light, shadow, contour or form to guide you. Senses are numbed. This is surfing as meditation, surfing on trust, belief and connection with the moment. Consciousness without thought, no-mind as some buddhist traditions call it… in this state it is possible to be truly creative… and to get dumped without ceremony over the falls, pile-driven into the sand. Our twenty minute dawn paddles across the lagoon to choose which empty line-up we’ll surf with my host and guide Daruka has born a friendship. There’s goodness in this man’s heart, it glints from his eyes. “I landed in India with two surf boards to meet up with friends from back home in San Diego intending to surf and backpack. I never imagined I’d be here two and a half years later as a Krishna Devotee… It just kinda grew on me….” he muses as we sit at sunset on the ashram dock watching local families wade and bob through the shallow lagoon scooping clams from the mire for dinner. When I first visited the ashram two years ago I befriended Dustin. On my return he’s become a disciple and the guru has named him Daruka Das. He has vowed to be sheltered and guided by his guru in a humble position of servitude and he now manages the ashram in his fun loving, warm hearted, devotional way helping lend it it’s unique, homely, peaceful atmosphere. “Time spent surfing gives me peace of mind, when I’m in tune with nature it helps me to be present, to live the moment, the only meditational truth. Surfing can be a meditation, being one with nature, and nature is an aspect of God. With my physical and mental aspects nourished meditation comes more naturally, the mind calms and clears more easily.” is how Daruka describes the connection of surf to his devotional practice, whilst elegantly deflecting any notions that the combination of an ashram with surf is merely a marketing gimmick. “Even after 46 years of surfing I'm not what you would call an especially good surfer but I love it just the same. The stoke for surfing is something that only another surfer can understand and there are only a couple of Krishna guys that I know of that surf. We have always identified with each other around surfing and kept contact with each other as we went down life's path.” said Swami Narasingha referring in particular, I think, to an old friend Babaji. From his Floridian days he vaguely knew a young kid called Rick Perry through the Oceanside Jaxs Beach Surf Club. Thirty years later, with remarkable synchronicity, they bumped into one another in India, The magnet which drew them back together was their shared spiritual path, Krishna.  Rick, or Babaji as he’s known, joined Narasingha’s mission and helped found the surf ashram in which he now spends his time as the resident elder. “There must be a million or more unridden waves every day landing on the coast of India — so some one has to do it! Its just not right to see all that goodness go to waste.” Swami Narasingha considers his ashram’s position as the first surf organisation on the sub-continent. Beach by beach, wave by wave, glide by glide and carve by carve more and more indians are realising the potential on their doorstep. The ashram has cast a small ripple on a huge pond, yet theirs is the first ripple so how surf spreads in India is in some way down to the initial splosh.  The purer the splosh the purer the ensuing wave. The ashram, aware of it’s responsibility, practices and preaches the true essence of surf; stoke, buzz, joy companionship and communion with our environment. Yet for this devout group the main focus will always be their spiritual practice “The ashram is the practice, surfing is the icing on the cake,” beams Daruka. “Some times a person will ask me if I have realized that connection to the Absolute Truth and I will often answer by saying, "You mean you haven't?" The Truth is everywhere, we simply have to open our eyes to see it! … When in doubt... go surfing... its a good beginning,” Swami Narasingha concludes. Will the dark strip on the horizon mutate, twisting and folding, snapping it’s jaws shut around you or will it peak just ahead, feather and peel beautifully all the way to shore? Do you use a mental checklist questionnaire to work that one out or does experience combine with instinct to bypass the analytic mind? If I trust my instinct, my self and realise my present moment awareness then the smiles, the open-hearted hospitality and the limpid integrity of these soul surfers is my answer. Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna — spinslide— Krishna Krishna — sway— Hare Hare— Hare Rama, Hare Rama — eyeswide — Rama Rama, Hare Hare. © Ed Templeton www.surferspath.mpora.com www.soulandsurf.com