Tantric Quest by Daniel Odier

Author:Daniel Odier
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Spirituality/Sexuality
Publisher: Inner Traditions / Bear & Company
Published: 2014-04-24T16:00:00+00:00

11

The following night, I did not sleep in my hut as I had hoped. Devi told me to rest during the afternoon. Come evening, after supper, she took me to the edge of the cliff.

"This is where you're going to meditate. Standing, your feet on the edge of this rock. Don't look at the river. Keep your eyes opened, fixed right in front of you, looking into space. When you can't stand up anymore, take the crosslegged posture and continue to meditate. When fatigue makes you slump, stretch your back and do the relaxation exercise that we call the rest of the sarangi. When the musician puts away his instrument, he slackens the strings one by one. Thus, imagine that your muscles are strings, that the pegs of the instrument are driven into each joint. Beginning with the feet, relax the muscles one by one, letting them bow toward the earth. Proceed in this way moving up to the knees, hips, sides, collarbone, wrists, elbows, shoulders, temples, and then to the top of the skull. When your whole body is loose, center on breathing, and relax completely. Then rest, and reverse the process, but without tightening the strings too much or tiring the instrument. After this practice, you'll have recovered all your energy."

For one second, I looked down. The cliff wasn't more than twelve meters high, but it was high enough to break bones on the rocks below. Nude and coated with ashes, I asked myself how I could maintain these three positions on the edge of the void. Devi went away; and a bit later I heard her singing, as she often did in the evening.

At first all this was not too difficult, but once night fell, the rumbling space was transformed into an abyss. I wanted to step back, to relax, to resume breathing and move on to the second position, but Devi had been very specific about the necessity of waiting as long as possible.

At this moment, the image of the body of the man pulled out of the river came to me. I didn't know to what extent Ram had been telling the truth, and I couldn't really imagine Devi capable of provoking a man's death. It had to have been an accident for which she was blamed. Perhaps it wasn't even a hermit.

The hours passed. My vigilance was wearing thin. It was extremely difficult not to move. My whole body hurt. My legs trembled, and the incessant droning of the waterfall had a hypnotic effect.

I was trying to concentrate on my breathing when, in the middle of the night, I felt a hand between my shoulder blades. I made an enormous effort not to turn around, not to let myself be thrown over the edge. One more time, my mind provided me with a series of catastrophic scenarios. At times the hand pushed me gently forward and I resisted. At times the hand no longer touched me. Was this Devi or my imagination? If it was Devi, she knew of my fear and the existence of the body retrieved from the river.

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