It was no accident that my journey to India – the first in 16 years – began on Easter Sunday. After all, Easter has taken on a new meaning for me: the representation of life after death, the call to rise from the ashes into a new way of being. Easter now reminds me that no matter how dire the circumstances or dark the conditions of my heart may feel, there is light dawning, breaking through in the morning.

This Easter, I left for India ready for my own rebirth, expecting to come back changed in some way. I knew I would feel inspired, that my vibration would raise , that my perspectives would expand. I wanted to grow into knowing my own depths from an even more loving place.

I knew the answers I was seeking – the ones I couldn’t put questions to with words, only sensing a longing in my soul – would be found in the energetic center of my motherland. And I looked forward to being fed by all the holy traditions and sources of wisdom I would discover in the ancient places.

What I didn’t realize was how grounded and at home I would feel. From my first moments there, I recognized the comfort of being surrounded by people who looked like me, something I almost never get to experience.

I felt at home with the land and the people, called by my ancestors. I felt their drums beating in my heart. I moved to their rhythm, their dance of peace, freedom, and joy.

Now, a few weeks later, I still feel their presence floating through me like Mother Ganga in my blood. All the traditions, all the ways of being, all the sacred sites and places – they are a part of me and I of them.

We are fused together in the eternity of the past, present, and future, melding into this one moment in time.

I imagine myself sitting by the River, asking what she wants of me, thanking her for this life force. And I celebrate the love and pride I have for Hindustan – the place of my birth and now my becoming.

[Photo: Standing by Mother Ganga in Rishikesh, a mountain town at the foothills of the Himalayas.]