Ananda Kanan Ozark Retreat Center
Unplug
and
Unmask
by Kara Gall
Just as a falconer uses a hood to keep her falcon calm, I wear an eye mask to sleep at night. The mask is paired with a set of ear plugs rated with the highest noise reduction level money can buy. The mask and ear plugs are habits now, coping mechanisms for the incessant light and noise pollution that are part of city living.
So, when I wake at eight in the morning after my first night’s sleep at the Ananda Kanan Ozark Retreat Center, I can’t see or hear anything yet. I pluck out the neon green plugs, remove the blue foam mask, and check the clock. Ten hours of sleep, solid!
Today is the first day of fall, and the cool tinge of autumn air sneaks through the open windows of the cabin. I shiver and pull the blankets up to my neck, nestling back into the center of the soft queen-sized bed. I briefly wish my husband had left me a warm mug of coffee before he set out on his early morning photography trek, a personal hobby he rarely has time for in his growing business. I lie back on the pillow, only my face exposed, looking out at the woods beyond the windows and listening to the sounds of birds chattering. This moment is private, a conversation between me and nature. Even so, I know my husband is having a similar experience out on one of the walking trails around the pond or through the woods. We are not physically close in this moment, yet I feel deeply connected to him, grateful for the thread of nature that weaves itself through our individual journeys.
I contemplate this place, this hidden gem situated on sixty-six acres of rolling hills in the Southern Missouri Ozarks. My husband and I are here to celebrate our second anniversary. This is a new place for us, and our plans for a self-designed couples retreat came together only a few days ago. It would have been simple enough to celebrate our anniversary at a spa resort, immersed in luxury and deca dence. It’s what we’ve done in the past. We could have taken the three-click path toward travel: click on one of the many travel deals dropped daily in our inbox; click “buy now” on a website; and click “print” for our canned itinerary, everything laid out for us, so easy to do with the swipe of a credit card. Instead, we hunted for something more private, more intimate – a true “getaway” in a quiet place that was no more than a day’s easy drive. We wanted to celebrate recent changes we made in our lives to return to the simple things: growing our own food and incorporating permaculture principles in our small
urban yard, being of service to our community, and taking refuge in nature.
Ananda Kanan met all our criteria. While its facilities can accommodate large gatherings, it is perfectly suited for individual or couples retreats. The per-night cost was one-third of what we would have spent at a luxury resort. Well-maintained and fast moving highways made for smooth driving and easy access to the retreat center, located five miles southeast of Willow Springs, Missouri, near the intersection of highways 60 and 63. The terrain of the retreat property – the ponds, woods, fountains, and walking trails – called to us, as did the Ozarks. Flanked on both sides by two patches of Mark Twain National Forest, and just a short thirty-minute drive from the Ozark National Scenic Riverway, the retreat center offered us access to countless trailheads, springs, streams, falls, and caves typical of Ozark geology. Finally, the universal philosophy of Ananda Marga, the international yoga and social service organization that owns and operates Ananda Kanan, jived with our newfound joy in the simple things. We learned that Ananda Marga, translated from Sanskrit, means path of bliss, and that Ananda Kanan means garden of bliss. In the past two years, my husband and I had been intentionally creating a literal garden of bliss in our urban home, as well as cultivating our marriage as a metaphoric garden of bliss. This was clearly the place for us!
So, here I am, unmasked, unplugged, in the garden of bliss, tucked snuggly in a moment of infinite happiness. I look around our cabin. It is simple but well-appointed, with modern amenities like air-conditioning, heat, hot shower, and kitchenette with coffee pot, tea kettle, oven, and range.
Before long, the many windows in the cabin call my attention back to the lush green foliage, which is on the cusp of morphing into a more traditional fall palate. Even as my eyes are drawn outward, the forest vegetation cloaks me in complete privacy. I realize how rarely we open our windows in the city. Our house literally vibrates from the constant circadian buzz of traffic from the busy street behind it. To hear only woodland noises…this really is bliss. I am seized with a desire to share this feeling. I grab my phone and post a status update on Facebook: “Ananda (happiness, bliss) is waking up in a log cabin, surrounded by nothing but forest and forest noises. The old woman in Hansel and Gretel was on to something....you know, before she became cannibalistic.” Strong cell reception allows me to momentarily plug back in to my community. Wireless internet is included as part of our lodging – though apart from my one Facebook post and a few internet searches for local points of interest, my husband and I both embrace the opportunity to disconnect from technology. Both of us brought laptops; mine didn’t leave its bag once. He opens his only once to upload and show me photographs from his morning hike. It’s the best of both worlds – global connection through technology with local connection to nature.
We spend a day getting intimate with the property, setting out in the morning on a meditative walk toward the entrance gates of the retreat center. Just outside the gates, a common snapping turtle lurks on the margin between ditch and county road, his twelve-inch upper shell caked with mud, some of it still wet. The trees that line the driveway, planted nearly thirty years ago, have reached a healthy adolescence, forming a canopy over our heads as we walk back toward the pond. There, lotus stalks ascend along the banks, leaves withering slowly toward winter, signature brown seed pods rattling with the shuffling of herons, ducks, and bullfrogs. Reflections from the water flicker through holes chewed by insects in the crepe-like flowers of the remaining Rose mallows, Missouri’s native hibiscus that typically grows in wet soils along ponds, sloughs, and wet woods. We catch a muffled scent of honeysuckle blooms near the dock.
As we turn a corner, we spot Michael McClure, Ananda Kanan’s site manager and artist-in-residence. We had met him the night before, when he greeted us personally upon our arrival and gave us a guided tour of the property. Now he stands ahead of us on the path, easel set up in front of him as he dips his brush into his acrylics. I have the sense that McClure has a painting practice, a kind of artistic meditation. Later, when he gives us a tour of his gallery, I ask him if this is true. “I paint every day. Everything else can wait. Painting is the most important thing.” We learn than McClure has been involved with the retreat center since its inception and that he has practiced Ananda Marga yoga and meditation daily for over forty years. Ananda Marga teaches a system of practical spiritual disciplines for physical, mental, and spiritual development. Though I have learned only a small bit about Ananda Marga, it is clear to me that McClure embodies this teaching in both his art and his service to the land.
We’ve been invited to share lunch with McClure and Ananda Kanan’s resident monk, Dada KB. We meet in the central courtyard, setting up our culinary offerings in the outdoor café under one brightly colored umbrella and seating ourselves under another. Behind the tables, a few remaining trumpet flowers peer down from the vines that twine up the posts of the dining hall porch. In the flower garden surrounding the courtyard, mint, sage, and oregano offer a faint olfactory tribute to our shared meal. In honor of our commitment to grow more of our own food, my husband and I brought with us a two-pound sweet potato, some bell peppers, and onions from our garden. We combine these with a few other vegetables, coconut milk, and Thai curry paste to share a sweet potato curry with our hosts. They bring dishes prepared with produce from Ananda Kanan’s organic garden. McClure brings a salad and apple pie. Dada KB brings brown rice with lentils and a cabbage vegetable stir-fry. Everything is delicious. Even Kalu, one of the resident cats, is enticed by the smell. After a few thwarted attempts to jump on the table, he settles down on the ground for a few scratches behind the ear. McClure tells us about the Ozarks - its history, settlement, economic concerns, and geological features. Dada KB shares stories of his travels to Japan, Singapore, and India. They both share their vision for the future of Ananda Kanan.
This is the kind of luxury we have been craving – not the spa and resort kind of luxury, but the luxury of healthy food on the table, inspiration from the natural world, good company, and time. The luxury continues into the night as we set up a telescope outside our cabin, watching meteors shoot across the sky, our snuggled bodies a mirror of the spiraling arms of the Milky Way that are so impossible to see in our own back yard. It continues the next day as we wade into Blue Spring in the Jacks Fork River in the Ozark National Scenic River way. It continues as we stand beneath the falls that spring from the middle of a small bluff wall in the Mark Twain National Forest Falling Spring Picnic Area. It continues as we sleep with our cabin windows open for the rest of the trip, eye mask and ear plugs forgotten in our suitcase.
When it is time for us to leave Ananda Kanan, I consider Deepak Chopra’s words about how to use meditation to free the mind. “In India, the most common metaphor for the mind is the wild elephant, and in Buddhism, the mind is compared to a monkey peering out through the five senses. Monkeys are notoriously impulsive, liable to do anything without notice. To cope with the frustrating antics of the monkey mind, the vast majority of people try to tame it – but that method never works. The mind only becomes wilder when we try to control and confine it. The solution is counterintuitive: to experience peace and calm, we have to free the mind. When it is free, it settles down and becomes a channel for peace. In freedom, our thoughts and impulses flow in harmony with what is right and best for each of us.”
I’m struck by the animal metaphors. The mind is an elephant, a monkey. I am a falcon. When I return to the city, I will again wear the “hood” of my eye mask and ear plugs at night. We will keep the windows closed. It is what we must do to stay focused in a cityscape full of empty sensory calories. It is what we must do to access the energy we need to continue cultivating our literal and metaphoric gardens of bliss. And if my falcon mind runs wild along the way, it’s reassuring to know Ananda Kanan is out there, the garden gates and windows open, waiting for me to rip off my mask.
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With easy access to groceries and restaurants in nearby Willow Springs and West Plains, unlimited opportunities to experience the beauty of the Ozarks, and personalized attention from retreat staff, Ananda Kanan Ozark Retreat Center is custom-made for travelers and groups who seek an affordable, quiet retreat from the hurried pace of city life without sacrificing modern comforts. Learn more about Ananda Kanan Ozark Retreat Center at http://www.ozarkretreatcenter.com
Learn more about Michael McClure at http://www.michaelmcclure.com/about.html
Learn more about the Ananda Marga organization at http://www.anandamarga.org/
Contributor
Kara Gall, MA
http://www.karagall.com
https://www.facebook.com/gall.kara
Nebraska Writers Guild http://www.nebraskawriters.org/
Nebraska Center for the Book http://centerforthebook.nebraska.gov/