January 2, 2025
First Day of Mridanga Training: A Journey of Music, Surrender, and Sunrise
Today was my first full day at Govardhan Eco Village, where I arrived yesterday just as the sun was setting. The journey here was quite the adventure. We all met in Mumbai and took a rickety bus three to four hours out of the city. The ride was bumpy, chaotic, and sprinkled with the kind of absurd scenes that only India can offer—live animals hanging out the back of a truck, a bike carrying dozens of eggs, and more surreal moments that would sound made up if I tried to describe them.
At one point, feeling nauseous from the ride, I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I saw a bumper sticker on the car ahead that said “BHAKTI,” and I heard my mother Kali whisper, “Welcome home.” That was the moment it all clicked. We arrived shortly after, settled into our modest (read: not luxurious) accommodations, had dinner, and went straight to bed.
This morning, the official start began in the most peaceful and inspiring way. I woke up before dawn for 5 AM satsang, a sacred gathering of spiritual seekers to chant mantras, meditate, and share wisdom. Walking to the satsang hall in the dark, I felt the stillness of the early morning and the vibrant energy of the space surrounding me. During satsang, we sang kirtan, a devotional practice of call-and-response chanting accompanied by traditional instruments. The building where we gathered felt alive with the sound of sacred mantras, and the energy of collective devotion was almost tangible.
After satsang and kirtan, we practiced yoga as the first rays of sunlight spilled over the mountains. The world was bathed in soft, golden light, and I felt completely aligned with the moment—a rare and beautiful start to the day.
Learning the Mridanga
After this soulful start to the day, it was time for my first mridanga lesson. Learning this instrument wasn’t something I planned, but it appeared on my radar in divine timing—and nothing about that feels like a coincidence. Let me just say, it’s both humbling and challenging in the best way. Before coming here, I was feeling like the harmonium didn’t stretch me in the way it used to. I was ready to be humbled, and, well… be careful what you wish for, right?
The mridanga is recognized as the backbone of kirtan, and learning to play feels like tapping into the heartbeat of this ancient practice. It has such a rich history, and honestly, it feels like an honor to even hold this instrument (but dang... its heavy!). Our teacher, Lala, is a 20-year-old powerhouse of talent and humility who has been playing since she was five. Yes, five. I feel so lucky to have my first mridanga teacher be someone soknowledgeable and passionate.
Today, she guided us through the basics with care and patience. There were moments when everything just clicked and flowed, but also moments when my hands and wrists began to ache, reminding me how much practice and endurance this art requires. As was said during satsang this morning: the real practice is discipline. You don’t bear the fruit just by showing up—you have to plant the seeds and consistently water them.
Our group is small and wonderfully diverse, with six of us from all over the world. There’s Poppy, a bright and vibrant soul from Australia; Catherine, a bhakti yogi with the most beautiful heart; Brian aka Chief, a veteran who has recently immersed himself in bhakti; Trish, an older woman from the UK with the sweetest, purest smile; and Jose, a striking and introspective seeker from Spain. Together, we make quite the quirky bunch, but it
works. I feel like there’s a reason the six of us (seven including Lala) were brought together at this exact time, in this sacred space, to learn and grow together.
The Magic of Kirtan and Spiritual Connection
The day ended with a kirtan that felt like pure magic. The temple came alive with music, dancing, and devotion. Sitting there, surrounded by such powerful sound and energy, I felt completely connected—not just to those around me but to something much greater. Krishna’s presence is tangible here, in every detail of this eco-village. This space is the vision of Radhanath Swami, a monk who came to India years ago and has since become one of the most respected spiritual leaders.
The energy in the temple was electric, and I couldn’t help but smile through the aches in my hands and the stiffness in my back from hours of sitting and playing. There’s something so unique about the way music connects us—to each other, to ourselves, and to the divine. Even in the moments when I wasn’t participating, I felt uplifted by the energy around me.
Finding Balance in the Challenge
One of the biggest lessons I’m learning is to listen to my body. The training is physically demanding, and I definitely underestimated how intense it would be. My hands are sore, my back is stiff, and the early mornings are catching up to me. I don’t want to complain, but I also can’t ignore what my body is telling me. If I need to take breaks or adjust the pace, I will. I came here to grow, but I know that growth happens best when I honor myself—mind, body, and spirit.
Gratitude and Reflection
As I reflect on the day, I’m overwhelmed by the beauty of this experience. The stillness of the early morning, the vibrant energy of kirtan, the shared connection with this quirky little group, and the deep joy (and challenge) of learning something new—it’s all sacred. I’m also reminded of the importance of letting go. Letting go of expectations, comparisons, and the need to be perfect. Every moment here feels like a lesson, an opportunity to grow and deepen my understanding of myself and the world around me.
Even the simplest things feel sacred: the delicious (but slightly confusing) food as I try to figure out what’s vegan and gluten-free, the modest ashram room that looks a bit like a prison cell but is adorned with a stunning painting of baby Krishna, and the natural beauty of this eco-village. Everything here feels so intentional, so grounded… it feels like home.
Trusting the Path
As I prepare for another early morning, I’m filled with gratitude. I don’t know exactly where this journey will lead, but I trust that I’m here for a reason. The mridanga is already teaching me about so much more than rhythm and music—it’s teaching me patience, perseverance, and surrender.
Goodnight from Govardhan Eco Village. Here’s to new beginnings, lessons, and everything that lies ahead.
With love & gratitude,
Eve (aka Kali Grayce)
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