I have been home for some time now, which has given me room to think and reflect on the trip I have had.
In my very first blog, I wrote that I was not quite sure why I was drawn to the idea of this trip, but that I knew I was. I wanted to establish a sense of independence, explore India, differentiate between the mythology and reality of the Ramayana, and better understand myself.
Firstly the Ramayana. I may slightly cheat now, and tell you in all honesty, from a factual point of view, even after my trip I can’t really tell you if it did happen. From an historical point of view I could say that its probable that parts of the book have probably been exaggerated, and others were probably real, but written in such a way that now we are unable to understand it (which I probably could have told you before I left).
But, after doing what I have done, I can deduce only one thing, based not on evidence or facts, but purely on experience. That the Ramayana is alive. It is alive in the streets and the air and the temples. It is alive in the monuments built to commemorate it and the icons that portray its characters. It is alive in the songs that are sung and the stories that are told by all. But most importantly, it is alive in the hearts of those I have seen along the way.
Whether it is the pundits who have greeted me at ashrams, the people I have stumbled across, or the sadhus I have met. For these are those who rely not on on facts or proof, but on the truest of their feelings. If such a tale can inspire so many to embark upon so much, if such a tale can stand the test of time and be as alive as it still is, then surely these are things that are the truest tests of reality. Not those which instruct us that things are real, but those which allow us to feel it for ourselves. At every place I have been, I have experienced the Ramayana, and my only conclusion can be that it may not have conspired exactly as I have read it, but it is alive, and it is real.
Secondly, me. I can certainly say that I did enjoy my sense of independence, and my trip has filled me with a confidence that I can adapt and cope with any situation, as long as I trust myself to do so. I have also learned a great deal about myself. I have learned that I love to get things done, without perhaps enjoying them as much as I can. I have learned that I worry probably a little more than I should, which is probably down to a lack of faith that things will always end up how they need to be. I have learned that I am scared about how things may turn out. I have learned that at times I have felt entitled and I have taken things for granted.
But, I have also learned that while I can cope on my own, I love the presence of good company. I have affirmed that I love good food. I have learned that I am brave and adventurous. Whilst I have learned that I am fearful, I have also learned that I do not have to be. I learned that I did not want my trip to end, but that it does not have to, for the Trail of Rama is not just a physical one, but one that we all lead in our own lives. I have learned that it is a Trail I can walk through the choices I make. I hope it is a Trail that I can continue to follow, wherever I go.
The promise of the Trail of Rama is that it grants a freedom from fear and grief to all those who embark on it. Whilst at times on my trip I felt completely fearless, and completely free of grief, after being at home and continuing with daily life I know I am by no means free form either. However, I think I may just be starting to find out how to be, and I cannot ask for more than that. I guess that it takes, from my experience, a knowledge that sometimes whilst we can do all what we can to make sure things work out, we can do no more, but that that is okay. I guess it takes a trust and a faith that somehow and in some way there is something somewhere that is playing its part too, in our own wonderful tale called life.