How Thoreau's Walden Pond Mixed with the Ganges and Yoga Came to America with Swami Vivekananda

So, I left the technologically sophisticated, electricity always on, everything
works, infra-structurally developed, relatively sanitized, small animals on
leashes and large ones on farms, trash can clean, poverty is hidden,
guaranteed your money back culture of the West and went to live in India;
where the electricity cannot be depended on, many things do not work or are
poorly built (except the ancient temples), you bought it you own it, trash is
strewn about everywhere and there are few or no trash-cans, beggars and
cows wander the streets; there are uncared-for dogs and gangs of monkeys
that wreck everything, an undeveloped infrastructure and the many
technologies developed before electricity are more commonly used. Of course,
there are exceptions, especially in certain parts of the big cities. But for the
most part, it was like leaving a world run by the mind and ideals and coming
to live in the realm of the whole body, exposed to the elements.
Like the West, India is also a realm of sex, violence, death and rebirth.
Only here, there is more of it and much of that is out in the open. None of
this is to say that India is to be avoided . . . on the contrary, India is the most
fertile ground for living that I know of. There are rare fruits and exquisite
knowledge here. One must know what to look for, have good reason to do so
and be very, very patient – for even the concept of time is different here; it is
not oriented around a clock, but rather the moon, the sun, the seasons and
religious holidays; which brings me to another reason I came to India, it is
very inexpensive to live here. I need only a few hours of the day to make a
living, allowing me much free time, a rare commodity in the West. Time offers
me the ability to consider and the opportunity to create. The Mahabharata, the
great Indian epic was composed in the Himalayan valley in which I live. It is a
book of vast consideration, written in the brilliant sunlight of eternally snowcapped
mountains, filled with the inspiration of clear sparkling waters,
rarefied air and the life of the God-Man – Krishna.
In 1976 I asked Buckminster Fuller, “What should I do with my life?”
There seemed to be so many roads I could travel and I didn’t know which one
to choose. Fuller said when he was faced with that question, the best thing he
95