The Boys Club

Here at the Sri Chinmoy Centre in Auckland, we have a 'Boy's Club' which is made up of the younger male members of our Centre who range in age from around eight through to the mid teens but welcomes any of the older guys who are young at heart and enjoy physical challenges and fun outings. Our spiritual master, Sri Chinmoy, has often stated that we are all children in the eyes of God - and that joy is our birthright. With this in mind, the underlying philosophy of our little club is to stay young, happy and healthy. And that is why we go careening through the bush in the middle of the night!

Recently, after one of our regular Wednesday evening group meditations, a Code Red had been called (where would a good club be without a Code Red?), summoning the boys on a mysterious outing to a location undisclosed for events unknown. With the bare essentials of a flashlight and the clothes we wore, we piled into two cars and ventured out of city limits into the dense native bush of the Waitakere Ranges in West Auckland, where nature and the elements reign supreme.

We arrived at a well renowned track which some of the older guys call the The Great Downhill Scream Machine; a place where many an outing had led to full paced running down a wild and steep mud track with twists and bends. The aim - first down wins! With no rules, runners would be nudged from side to side, pushed together due to their sheer speed and they would find themselves tumbling down the banks into the uncomfortable embrace of the trees; this was to be our adventure.

When I first sighted the track, I realised how it had got it's name. It was like a very steep mud-drenched hydro slide. As it was about 10 at night and pitch black we proceeded with extreme caution under the light of our torches. We were enjoying the stillness of nature, the sounds that came from the night and the odd laughter when someone slipped and took refuge in the mud. We decided to discard our torches and attempt the trail somewhat blind. The laughter that followed was outrageous and contagious as Jogyata first led us at snail pace down a black, pitted muddy track like a mime looking for a way out of a glass enclosure, only to find ourselves trying to climb the tall fern trees that lined the track.

With extreme uncertainty, a daring sense of enthusiasm and an act of blind faith, I took the lead and requested that we all take hold of the person in front like a train. Feeling propelled along by an unseen force, we forged our way along the path and soon found ourselves running at full speed. What little visibility I did have of about an arms length had quickly diminished as my eyes were filled with tears of laughter. I had forgotten that little sense of space ahead which was replaced with rollicking laughter, screams and the trampling of what must have sounded like a herd of elephants.

It was so hilariously funny and at any moment we could have found ourselves off the track or smack bang into a tree, which were often marginally dodged. Our running seemed to be undisturbed until we met with a tree that had lay down over the track at knee level and another tree had bent over to greet us at face level. The path decided to make a sharp hairpin bend and a steep ascent up the hill forcing us to run straight off the track into a mud puddle and a sudden halt by a rather stern tree. One after the other we all piled into the person in front making my connection with the tree a little harder pressed.

After scrambling up the last hill we had made it out alive, our energy levels were peaking, and our laughter still shaking the stillness and tranquility of the night. With few accidents and no injuries, I was extremely grateful to learn that I had been initiated into The Boys Club and earnt myself a lifetime membership, which to me represents a voucher for a childlike heart and a ticket for eternal youth.