Consciousness as location

My meditation masters this year, Autobiography of a Yogi, Billy Joel lyrics, Manuel (the owner of Empty Space Chiang Mai) all speak to your location being the site of your consciousness. CRC as a group has been berated for spending too much time at home via Facebook, which was a revelation because none of the students would like to consider themselves disconnected from what we are learning and the people we are studying. Our berating did not fall on deaf ears as we have been encouraged to cultivate unity of mind, action and body through meditation.
The Guru of ‘the yogi’ is omnipresent and would choose to stop lessons entirely when his student’s mind is not singularly focused on his message. I wonder what he would do with my monkey mind! As I am currently reading Autobiography, this concept is pervasive in my thought. As I study my mind and my habitual thought patterns I am noticing that these focus more on peoples, I suppose this means that my mental location would be in the spot that I have memories with this person but wouldn’t it be interesting if by thinking of someone I was that person! I don’t have a desire to be anyone else but, I wonder if having my consciousness on a person, I became them if that would mean that I would experience their thoughts, how confusing that would be! Good thing I have only one monkey mind to deal with. I suppose it is also true that I don’t have my entire consciousness on that thought generally I am also present in classes or my location by sensory input etc. so my consciousness is rarely singular, except perhaps when I am alone. There is a Thai saying, “when you are with your friends watch your words, when you are alone watch your thoughts” this is intended to speak to creating negative karma, but this saying has made me realize that being with other people causes my consciousness to be with them, but doesn’t cause my habitual thoughts to cease so it causes a split in my consciousness which is not necessarily true when I am alone. Alone my mind can be entirely focused on my thoughts - if sense input isn’t too distracting - and thus if not checked, entirely with those memories.
I think of the consciousness by location with guilt as my body is obviously in India but I don’t know enough of Indian history, language(s), politics, economic situations, culture, religion, styles, landscape to feel able to have my thought immersed in India. Looks like it is time to read, read, read!

Arrival

I just arrived in India… about 3 hours ago. I haven’t seen it yet, obviously, but I feel like I have seen so little of India more so tonight than any other arrival into a country. I suppose this is my first time flying in at night time but I also feel that it has to do with the airport. Everyone who had been to India before said that it was not like India - this particular airport was very nice. Perhaps when I say I haven’t seen India it is because I haven’t seen the dirt of India. This is a lot of what people describe India as, they talk about the smells in India, people and animals going every which way, beggars, peddlers, death. As I write this I have the feeling that by coming to India I have given up being comfortable for a while. This feeling goes with my hypothesis that India will not be equipped with the get-everything-you-need-to stores or the over whelming multitude of single purpose stores present in all of the cities I have been in Asia. We will see how true this is, my foresight of cities is never accurate. I am constantly surprised by them: the western shops, tall buildings, relative cleanliness compared to my foggy – and unfounded - images of wooden buildings and dirty roads.
I had two weird experiences in the airport. One: Lizzie and I were the last two passengers on the plane. It took me a while to gather my belongings and when we were leaving the plane, continuing through the passage to airport we were inundated by Indian men in navy blue uniforms and neon yellow vests, some holding vacuums. It was overwhelming. Two: in the bathroom, there was a woman who stood with her mop and bucket (might have been a broom)behind the door. She stared and did not smile, I felt embarrassed yellow-mellowing with the person who cleans the restroom standing in front of me. I went back and flushed. She continued looking ahead, not necessarily fixed on me, as I washed my hands she dispensed some paper towels and handed them to me. Too much service! I am uncomfortable!
Things I knew about India:
The head bobble, my friend Nate’s mannerisms, and discussion with of Indian culture.
Gandhi, the break from England
Yoga autobiography of a yogi
Stories from travelers