At some point we started the tradition of yarking. Yarking was as good as OMing, even better because it wasn’t so serious; it was fun for everyone of all ages, with the same incredible, mesmerizing effect of intertwined voices becoming one.
A yark could break out at any time, like if someone saw something gross or hurt their finger chopping wood or something and yelled “yark”, a spontaneous yark session might start up, but usually it happened after dinner around dusk when everyone in the household would go outside to stand together and all simultaneously yell “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRKKK” at the top of our lungs, each person holding it as long as they could, just like an OM.
Then, after being satisfied with our strong, fantastic yark job, everyone would be quiet, attentively listening, with expectant, giddy faces, for the other yarks to start echoing around the different valleys from all the other houses. With perked ears, we’d soak in all the other yarks coming from numerous directions, becoming more delighted with every new yark that would join in the gleeful avocation. The close by yarks and the way far off distant yarks, every yark you could hear or barely hear, was an invisible yet priceless jewel of reciprocal gratification. A far reaching, profound testament of our collective attainment resounding through the hills.
After a brief interlude of listening to the incoming yarks, we’d yark back again. Everyone would take the biggest breath possible, tilt our heads up to the rest of the world and let another long, drawn out “YAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRK” sail out of our wide open mouths to twist and spiral together -all of the deep manly tones to the high, little kid tones and all the tones in between- formed into one illustrious entity of sound permeating the air, winding through the trees to find it’s way to the receptive ears of our fellow yarkers.
I absolutely loved standing there yarking, completely forgetting about everything else, absorbed into this group of people as we all become one consecrated yarking force, this is everyone at their best – no nonsense, just yarking, I love them all. I love everything. I’m so happy to be part of this bizarre, wonderful communion that I’m just one big smile, convinced that life doesn’t get any better than a good after dinner yark.