I began watching Tony’s “No Reservations” show back in 2005 on the Travel Channel. The show’s introduction was an image of Tony skidding across the ice toward the viewer to the sound of a heavy metal guitar and a voice screaming, “I’m Anthony Bourdain, I write, I travel, I eat, and I’m hungry for more. Noooo Reservations.” It was edgy, just like Tony. He allowed viewers to be the voyeur peeking through the window into other countries and their foods. I listened to his lyrical narrative descriptions as if he were speaking only to me. I was hooked.

We all know that Tony was an avid carnivore, a lover of meat in any form. His self-awareness was apparent in every country he visited. In the Mozambique episode, he was acutely aware that he was a perfect metaphor for Africa. The privileged white guy there to observe, commune, and eat. In one rural village, he points out that the people wake up daily at 3 am to make do with what is available to them, trading what they catch or what they grow. “What promoters of vegetarianism may not realize is that much of the world is already living a vegetarian lifestyle and they ain’t too f*ckin happy about it.” Animal protein is a lifegiving luxury, eaten when available.

Although I’m not a regular red meat eater I do eat animal protein. I am educated on the effects of global warming and all the benefits of being vegetarian or vegan. From a bird’s-eye view, I am a conscious consumer who eats animal protein once a day and I’m still reducing my carbon footprint. Any extremism or core fundamentalism that brings judgement upon others is a narrow way to look at the world’s diversity. Being accepting and open to everyone doing what is right for their body and respecting the earth is possible. The theme of hunting and consuming the entire animal was not uncommon in Tony’s travels and while I’d never want to experience that, I accept it for others. Tony explored the earth bringing foreign people and ideas closer to us through culture and food. He could go from eating in a Michelin-rated restaurant to sitting in a village on the dirt floor of a hut, all the while not judging but observing, accepting, and narrating every moment of it. He painted the picture on top of the picture and gave it depth and substance.

Tony lived by very clear truths
» I don’t have to agree with you to like you or respect you.
» Your body is not a temple, it’s an amusement park, enjoy the ride.
» Maybe that’s enlightenment enough: to know that there is no final resting place of the mind; no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom…is realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go.
» That without experimentation, a willingness to ask questions and try new things, we shall surely become static, repetitive, moribund.

While he had very clear and cutting things to say about vegetarians, it really doesn’t matter, does it? Being a yogi is accepting all that is in equanimity and humility. It appeared that Tony loved and accepted everything he experienced. Was he a yogi connected to God? No. However, his personality to me is literally yogic. Joining, uniting people in the most literal sense. A yogi in the sense of contentment with what was directly in front of him. Perhaps he had this unknowing partnership with his ego that connected his heart to his surroundings. Tony’s inherent belief systems did not dominate but guided him into the journey of humanity and cultural exploration. Through this journey, he became more aware of himself and his place in the world. We all may be small and insignificant beings in a massive world and he brought the world closer to us. He exemplified the basic human desires for love and belonging through his eloquent use of language.

He was no stranger to suffering; he had a past of drug use and alcoholism still taunting him at his passing but he lived his life with truth and conviction, all along exploring, developing deep relationships, and living to the fullest. Tony lived the example of being limitless. He will remain one of my heroes, an American icon and example of someone who lived a full life. I will always have some sadness knowing he is no longer walking on this plane and honor his memory by writing about him, reading about him, and watching his explorations.

Please reach out if you need help. Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

Shelley Karpaty lives in Silicon Valley where she has worked for 15 years as a tech industry recruiter. A yogi at heart, she considers herself a seeker of truth, knowledge, compassion, empathy, happiness, laughter, and anything to do with the human condition. ShelleyKarpaty.com

Ididn’t know what I was signing up for when I drove to my friend’s house in Berkeley for a Devi Puja ceremony—a Hindu goddess celebration. I was all for finding my own inner goddess, and thought maybe I could find a way to attach myself to a Hindu identity to strengthen my own.

I walked in late, and noticed that people had already sat down and begun chanting. Before I could get my chanting groove on, my friend came to welcome me with a warm embrace, ushering me upstairs to her room to change into more traditional clothing. Modest, comfortable, and colorful was the dress code; she gave me a beautiful skirt in hues of blue that went to the ground.

When I returned downstairs I could see the vibrant golds and reds of flower petals, draped tablecloths, statues, and framed pictures adorning the puja table. The smell of basmati rice mixed with incense floated in the air. The harmonium hummed.

All of my senses were stimulated, drawing my focus to the present moment. Staying open and ready for anything, I joined a group whose guide tied the red string, or kalava, around our wrists. In the Hindu tradition, the string represents the unity weaving us all together, specifically we who had congregated to honor the deities. The color red represents purity or Shakti (cosmic energy), as well as bravery, generosity, and security.

Our guide explained why there are so many Hindu gods and goddesses. In the polytheistic Hindu tradition, the multiple deities are intended to make the idea of a singular, omnipotent God more accessible. The deities each have specific jobs running the various aspects of our world, just as we have earthly postal workers, teachers, civil servants, and doctors serving specific functions.

For instance, there is:

» Durga, the warrior goddess who champions the victory of good over evil.

» Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and prosperity.

» Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge and the arts.

Given this context we proceeded to make offerings of water, light, food, and flowers to the goddesses at our sacred puja altar.

A fire roared in a brazier in the center of the room, and as we chanted to the aforementioned goddesses 108 times each, we tossed raw rice and sesame seeds into the conflagration. It was hot as hell and that alone forced me into the present moment—if only to prevent my billowing skirt from catching fire.

In that moment I was curious whether anything mystical would happen, particularly if I stayed focused while chanting to the goddesses. Maybe we’d see a smoke image of one of the goddesses? Maybe being hot as hell was necessary to keep our focus on the unfolding ceremony?

I looked at the calm, sweating faces of the people in the circle around the fire and wondered what they were experiencing. The trance-like chanting, combined with the heat of the fire, drew me into myself. I realized that the fire before me mirrored the fire within me—the fire of my intuition, the voice deep within.

It can be so difficult to listen to our intuition while going about daily life. While this ceremony helped reconnect me with mine, we don’t need a lavish ceremony to tap into it. Two simple related practices—meditation and accepting change—can help us do this every day.

After we completed the fire ceremony of chanting the names, my new friends and I shared a delicious Indian vegetarian meal while sitting in a circle on pillows. We quietly reflected upon our experiences and appreciated the physical and spiritual nourishment before us.

In the wake of this intense ceremony, each goddess felt like a literal and specific someone to call upon, to guide me in the days that followed. Visualizing, honoring, and chanting to them connected me to my intuition once again, and I walked away with a red string on my wrist as a reminder to trust that intuition in the forthcoming days.

I drove carefully home from the ceremony with a quiet peace I had only ever glimpsed before. For two full days I felt as though I’d left regular civilization before coming back. I was deep in Shakti and working to face the heat of my life. The process of bringing forth my own deep innate wisdom is a daily work in progress—just like connecting with my own inner goddess.

Shelley Karpaty lives in Silicon Valley where she has worked for 15 years as a tech industry recruiter. A yogi at heart, she considers herself a seeker of truth, knowledge, compassion, empathy, happiness, laughter, and anything to do with the human condition. ShelleyKarpaty.com