Surrendering our soles

In the gathering dusk, we saw shoes—hundreds and hundreds of shoes—piled beneath a tree, spilling off shelves, tucked under a stairwell and tumbling across the pavement like an incoming tide.

In India, it’s tradition to remove your shoes before entering a home, a temple or even a store. In our case, we were preparing to enter the temple for evening meditation with Sri Baba, the living saint of Puttaparthi. It was the first stop of our ten-day tour of sacred sites in India.

We began taking off our flip-flops in preparation to enter a vast open-air temple. Each day, twice a day, thousands of followers of Sri Baba gather in this temple. The temple can hold up to 10,000 worshippers. As we took off our shoes, we joined hundreds of other visitors doing the same.

I tried to find a clear spot for my flip-flops. There were none. We’d been told that it’s not unusual to have your shoes stolen during the devotional by “entrepreneurs” who then try to sell them back to you or others. I finally just threw my shoes on top of a pile and hoped for the best.

Inside the temple, worshippers sat on the floor in endless rows, shoulder to shoulder. The women wore saris in every color; babies climbed in and out of their mothers’ laps alongside tiny grannies with wrinkled faces like dried apples. I took my space on the floor and sat, hugging my knees. The wailing music soared through the temple as thousands of voices chanted together.

It was all so incredibly foreign. Yet, as the music continued, I began to relax. On pilgrimage to India, there is nothing so wise as to surrender—to the experience; to the sights, sounds and smells of Mother India; to the journey of spirit.

When the session ended, we came out to join a mob of worshippers all looking for their shoes in the dark. Gradually, we found each pair except for one of my flip-flops. I didn’t mind. That flip-flop is now part of the colorful chaos that we have encountered everywhere. On the pilgrimage I am learning to roll with the unfamiliar, surrender in my soul, and know I will be all right. More than all right—wondrous.