Relaxed Stability & April 10L/O

The universe isn’t always the most discrete with the messages it’s trying to deliver to you, in fact, sometimes it’s downright violent! I mean, obviously our world is getting highly overpopulated by the resource grubby humans that don’t seem to want to slow down on the procreation so natural disasters are, so far, gradually taking care of business.  My friend Claudio and I actually were discussing the balance of the earth and who’s going to win the race to “take care” of human population, since we are inept at doing so ourselves, mother nature, in the form of violent catastrophes, or THE MAN, in the form of a mass plague that will eradicate populations around the world.  I’m not gunna lie, my vote is for mother nature and even if I’m in her wake, whatever, each day of life is as good as I make it.  Claudio voted for THE MAN and actually, LA dude, in a completely different discussion yesterday thought it would be THE MAN too since it’s man’s nature to destroy itself.  These, ladies and gentlemen, are the typical conversations I find myself in whilst living abroad.  WORLD ANNIHALATION!!! MAUAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!!  Nah, we talk about sex too. J

I went a little ahead of myself and I’m really being selfish with bringing this up because I’m talking about my OWN universal catastrophes.   If you pay attention to yourself, you’ll start to notice little things too and that universe could just be your body telling you something and if you fail to listen, it MAKES you listen.  Like when I was dysentery for a week, I knew my body needed a rest, I knew I needed to simmer down in either my ashtanga class or my evening hatha class but did I?  NooOoOoOoooo… so instead, my body made me explode out of both ends for a week and left me so weak and skeletor, I needed to ease back into my routine once I could stand up straight.  That is old news though.

I’m still in Arambol, I haven’t left Arambol and I’ve planned countless times to leave Arambol.  About a month ago, I was minorly stressed about what to do with my life once Balu’s classes finished on the 31^st of March and I had until May 15 to be in Australia.  I did say “minorly” stressed right, because that’s not really anything to stress about, I know this. I knew a Vipassana needed to go into that month and a half somewhere but I didn’t know which country I wanted to go to.  Thailand was pulling me but I only get a month visa on arrival and you have to do border runs and when doing those, you’re only left with 15 days before you have to do another one.  For those who don’t know what vipassana is, it’s a 10 day, complete noble silence (no talking, no eye contact, no physical contact, no gestures), 12 hours a day of meditation, you eat only 2 times a day, last meal being at 11:30am, you wake at 4am and you go to sleep at 9:30pm.  The LAST thing you want to do after getting out, whilst in your bliss of higher consciousness, is a run to the border to renew a visa.  You barely want to even talk to anyone when you’re free.  Malaysia has 3 month visas but it’s supposed to be as hot, if not hotter and more humid than India AND Thailand and if you have seen me workout, you have seen me sweat… just breathing is enough to make me sweat in this heat so Malaysia was tabled.  There was one option that I thought about but immediately brushed aside – how about I stay in Arambol and just RELAX and DO NOTHING but read, my own yoga, lay on the beach and swim in the Arabian?  “HA!!” I thought to myself.  “Stay somewhere where there is NO purpose.  No yoga classes, no aerial, no friends, shops closing, no… ANYTHING.  Yeah right!  I don’t DO that!”  To my credit, I have done just that, the relaxing, do nothing vacation, once in my life and it was last February when a few of my ladies and I went to maui.  I didn’t want to drive on the Hana Highway, I didn’t want to do ANYTHING but lay out and read and maybe a little SUP.  This was also after I had just finished 3 months of hard manual labor in Lesotho and 2 weeks of serious gallivanting around Europe so I was pooped!  I have a hard time just BEING, which plagues a majority of the western world.  We always have to be working on something, doing something, talking to someone, running from one thing to the next, setting up our schedules, looking at our schedules, looking at our schedules while we’re already doing something, and we’re often times half talking to the person sitting in front of us while half talking to someone else on our phone.  It’s always go go go go go.  The busyness here isn’t like at home but I’d still leave yoga to throw a fruit, muesli and curd down the chop to run home to get into beach wear to run to meet alba at the beach before it got to hot… you know… it’s very hectic here!  I wanted to leave Arambol the week I got here and contemplating staying longer just to avoid the visa run in Thailand seemed ludicrous!  You may be wondering, “why not go somewhere else in India?”  Goa, while it’s getting hotter, is not AS hot as the entire rest of the southern part of Goa.  The only place to escape the heat is to head north, which I wanted to do but every train in India to anywhere is currently booked 2 months out and airfare to the north was just as much as airfare to Thailand AND I’m flying from Thailand to Perth because it’s cheaper SO, cost, is what was limiting that option.  In the end, I made up my mind and was going to head to Thailand immediately after Balu’s classes were over and then do a visa run the day before Vipassana.  Done!  Good plan!

About 2/3 through March I awoke one morning and whilst brushing my teeth, had a crazy tickle in the back of my throat and coughed, causing an immense pain to shoot through my ribs.  I didn’t think much of it so managed through a few days until the day after Alba left and that day it hurt to even breathe.  2 visits to a doctor and it was confirmed that I had a muscle spasm originating at my spine that would shoot searing pains through my angry intercostals and ANYTHING I did hurt, excluding laying supine and NOT MOVING.  Breathing hurt, walking on uneven surfaces hurt, opening my door hurt, showering hurt, sitting up straight hurt, the process of going from sitting to laying hurt, EVERYTHING hurt and for 2-3 days sometimes so bad that anytime I moved my eyes would well with tears.  I feared the littlest of coughs and I was deathly afraid to sneeze.  After doing tons of research and talking to the doctors this lovely lil injury, which seems to be yet another little ache that is residual from my head-on collision a year ago, takes WEEKS to heal!  It was settled, if I want this to heal as quickly as possible so I can get back to my yoga groove, I’m parkin my ass, literally!  Plus, I can’t even open my door, let alone carry a 30lb bag across country borders.

I resolved I was going to read, a lot, and do things I’ve wanted to do since I got here but somehow never got around to.  I picked up my pranayama books and started reading and I made a vow, since I could actually manage deep breathing while supine, I was going to make myself a full time nose breather!!  Big hairy audacious goals I have, right?  I already had a handle on it, for the most part, during the day but those unconscious hours are just so hard to tackle because, you’re unconscious.  Supposedly once you make it a permanent habit during the day, your body adjusts so at night, no more snoring, no more dry, choked coughs and good bye to middle of the night accidental protein snacks.  I’m 2 weeks down and from what I can see, it’s working! 

I couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, seriously doped up on muscle relaxers, while how just weeks prior I didn’t think it was possible for me to just chill being here with nothing to do but relax.  I don’t think a person can get any more relaxed than bed rest!  I mean, had I done this on my own free volition I would’ve enjoyed maybe a run on the beach before the sun came up, my own yoga practice, walking up the hill every night at sunset, finding cool places to go during the day, laying on the beach to work on my non-existent tan but instead, I’ve had to totally adjust my way of thinking and life while, essentially, stuck here.  Aside from the pain, which FINALLY after a week and a half of LITERAL bed rest has very slowly and gradually started to subside, it’s been really wonderful.  I’ve finished reading every pranayama book I have and I’m currently creating a 3-5 day workshop (I knew my time at Verizon was good for SOMETHING… training development…but of something I LOVE!), I’ve finished 3 other books, started 3 others, I’ve taken up a consistent morning pranayama practice, I decided, since I’m sedentary, now is the perfect time to tackle my sugar addiction and most importantly, I’ve rested.  I had to remind myself, “it’s OK to just BE!” I’ve had to be patient with myself and the situation which I cannot change and make the best of it and I have to be honest, it’s been kind of fun trying to see just what one CAN do when all they can do is lay in bed without moving. 

When I leave Arambol, I would have stayed here 4 months.  I’ve stayed in my guest house longer than any other guest in its history, which isn’t surprising because the people who come here, knowing they will stay 2+ months, pick much quieter areas.  The last time I stayed in one place for 4 months, without going anywhere was when I was in JUNIOR HIGH!!! That was NINETEEN YEARS AGO!  I remember when Michelle and I dated she said, “you’re ALWAYS going somewhere, you’re too busy to date!” I thought she was being ridiculous, which she WAS, but now that I think of it, I am always somewhere else besides where I live.  If it’s not leaving Seattle to go to Oregon to see my family, or east to see more family, or to one corner of the country for a regatta, it’s going to only god knows where for a concert fest, or to other countries to gallivant or volunteer, or countless other cities for festivals or shows.  I.do.NOT.stay.put!  You can cover Seattle, by car, from one end to the other in about 30-45 min (think West Seattle to Wedgewood/North Seattle).  Arambol, on the other hand, you can go from one end to the other in 20 minutes WALKING!  It’s been nice finding new things to do while I’ve been here and enjoying this little town as much as possible.  I made myself available and open to any and all opportunities that wanted to present themselves and I’ve been flooded with them since I arrived, after I removed my head from my own ass, of course (see Dying and Flying... Maybe Not in that Order blog entry).  I’m not sure if this is the start of a new phase in my life where stability and grounding will become important or if it’s just a crazy fluke but it’s definitely a far cry from what I’ve done historically.  It makes me wonder if I’ll ever be one of those people who can just be content and happy staying in one place for an extended period of time.  I mean, I know the heading for my birth date was “Excited Instability” in my former lady friend’s astrology book but there’s a chance I could change, right?  I know billions of people do it across the globe, why can’t I? That all said, I do have a ticket and I am leaving…

XXXoX

Dirty, sweaty, bitten and bruised

P.S.  I kinda want to come back to Arambol next season too.  Sssssssshhhh… don’t tell anyone!

 P.P.S. Oh yeah... my April 10Likes/Opportunities below

10 Likes

• Incredibly easy going and adaptable
• When my body says to rest, I rest
• Willing to try just about anything
• Immense self awareness
• Don’t take things personally
• Amazing at entertaining myself
• Take time for me when I need it
• Better understanding that people do what they feel is right for them and to not judge
• LOVE TO READ AND LEARN!!
• The heart… is OPENING and god damn it’s HUGE!

10 Opportunities

• Take time to have patience and not get frustrated
• Seek to find the balance between being present in my surroundings and present outside my surroundings
• Make better use of my days or consciously determine I just need to relax
• Continue to work on improving my self-discipline with my sugar addiction
• NEED to figure out and maintain a daily/weekly budget
• Learn to simmer my anxiety about my frustrations with my own country
• Write more
• More consistency in my pranayama and meditation practice
• Take more pictures
• I REALLY need to wax my legs!

Alone

“We’re born alone and we die alone.”  I’ve heard a number of people say this in some form or fashion, usually when dealing with feeling lonely and grappling with a loss of some sort, usually in the way of a love but sometimes in friendship and family.  I don’t think it’s accurate or true.  When we’re born, it’s usually into the arms of a person and then immediately wrapped and handed to the arms of the mother to commence the outward bonding.  When we die, who knows who’s going to be with us.   Sometimes at the bedside rests all those nearest and dearest holding onto a piece of the person to feel that final moment of connection and other times, like with one of my grandmothers, it’s alone, in your trailer, not to be found until 2 weeks later when someone breaks down the door.  What I find more accurate to say and what I have said, not sure where I got it, if from anywhere, is “the only person you are guaranteed to wake with every morning of your life, is you.”

Traveling, or as I like to call it, “living abroad like a gypsy,” forces you to put a different perspective on the idea of being alone.  People on holiday travel with partners, sometimes in packs and HORDES, travelers, for the most part, are alone in their journey.  When they wake in the morning, the first thought that comes to mind is “what am *I* going to do today?”  Often times you meet like minded, like missioned people and connect for portions of the then, mutual journey but there is always a parting when someone wants to stay around and twirl in the sky a bit longer and the other wants to head to a different play ground to try some different yoga.  It happens, ALL THE TIME. It’s rarely a dramatic departure, tears are not usually shed, hearts do not ache, new friends are missed but the next day comes and more journey’s and new friends await.  For a society that is bread to attach themselves to anything and everything that comes into our reach and be devastated during the process of detachment, this whole process is a completely foreign concept. 

I come from a broken family where my father left us, gradually but left us nonetheless, by the time I was twelve.  My youngest sister and I have since decided this was actually a blessing in disguise, at least I know for me.  If I had to go through my teenage years fearing constant ridicule every time a word came out of my mouth, the painfully sarcastic cut downs and when I stood up for myself, the punishment of equally painful smacks to the ass that would leave welts and a hand print for days, I may have never broken from my practically debilitating shyness, especially since what helped break my shyness was my introduction to Boones Farm Fuzzy Navel and warm Budweiser in the can at the age of 15.  Something tells me my ridiculously angry and controlling father wouldn’t have allowed me to leave the house once I got to high school so there would’ve been NO BOONES!  Oh the death of me!  Also, if he HAD stayed and my mom didn’t divorce him  who knows what sort of perspective I’d have on what a relationship looks like, but I can’t imagine it would’ve been pretty, so instead, I came out stubbornly independent WITH some of the typical pitfalls of a person dealing with “abandonment issues.”  Attaching to things that I find to be good and clinging onto them for dear life, nails and all, usually sucking any energy out of them, has historically been a norm.  Not to mention the debilitating devastation that follows when things do not work out, with either a lover or a friend.  There was a time when lots of things were debilitating to me, apparently.  This was me, five years ago.  I held onto things just for the sake of holding on, even if I knew it wasn’t good or healthy.  I would worry for days why people weren’t calling me back and stress that I had done something to drive them away.  Me and that time in my life were disgusting, don’t think for a second I thought any of it was good.  I just didn’t know what to do.

Well, I grew, is what I did.  In the recent years I’ve seen all of my friendships around the world become completely fluid where sometimes I’m hanging out with group A a lot and rarely see B, C, D, etc and then other times it shifts.  Sometimes I’m more interested in group dynamics and sometimes just one-on-one.  I don’t even really think about this stuff, I just let it all be and everything ebbs and flows as it should.  I never sit there and over think why I’m not seeing or speaking so much of a certain person and I would like to hope my friends do the same.  There was actually an article in the New York Times, a few weeks ago, written for people who sit there and toil over their friendships and I found it to be the most ridiculous article ever, mostly because it didn’t just focus on letting things BE.  If I sat here in India and wondered why so-and-so wasn’t messaging me as much as we used to, I’d drive myself nuts.  This transition over the years has prepared me well for the comings and goings of the friends I’ve met on the road.  That obnoxious guy from LA I mentioned in my last blog said to me once, “eh, what’s the point of establishing anything while you’re traveling, everyone leaves, none of this is forever.”  I then asked him, “is ANYTHING forever?  Don’t all people leave, at some point?”  It’s not something I say with an air of pessimism either, it’s just the reality.  Lives change, people change, goals change, motivations change, locations change, lives end, people and the lives they live are not static, they are very much dynamic, every instant of every day.  It doesn’t make any of my relationships at home any less important because we don’t see each other or talk to each other often, and the relationships I develop while abroad are no less significant in my life because they aren’t as long standing and may not have as much face time.  There are a few people who I’ve met over the last year who I feel know me better than and I know them better than some of the friends I’ve had for years back in Seattle.  It’s also ok that some friendships I have in Seattle haven’t gotten deeper, if they are supposed to, they will.  My friend Dominic, who I fucking adore the shit out of, said something to this effect at a table of people as we were leaving our yoga TTC last July, “if I never see any of you again, I won’t be sad.  I’m ok with it because I know that the time we shared together here, we each enhanced each other’s lives and we each contributed what we were supposed to during this time.  If I do see you again, all the better but our time together the last 6 weeks has been beautiful and I’m happy you were all a part of it.”  I think back to this quite often, like when I said good bye to a love when I knew it wasn’t right, not at that moment anyway, and when I say good bye to a friend I’ve seen every day for the last 2 months.  Being a live abroad gypsy and well, let’s be honest, my intensive yoga studies, have helped immensely with grappling with attachment and how to lessen its impact.  It’s a very freeing thing to be “detached” not apathetic, just not clinging.  I know all the people in my life are amazing, in whatever capacity we are together and the time we share is always cherished, regardless of the duration and there are no expectations for the future, ever, at least on my end.  I won’t say there aren’t hopes because I’ll be damned if I don’t hope I see some of my friends again but if we never do, I’m not going to be heartbroken because they were a wonderful addition while they were in my life.

Many people attach to other people, some attach to materials things, some to ideals, ideas or opinions, some to their own body or image of their body, some to expectations, some to life, some people attach to everything and a majority of the time, we attach to things we feel fills a void within ourselves.  Attachment is just a feeling of possession of anything that isn’t us, that we can’t control and since we can’t control it, doesn’t it seem silly to get attached to it. The cycle is vicious because we find something, feel like we’re complete because we found it, that thing goes away and we feel incomplete again so we go and seek something else that will be our next missing puzzle piece.  Because that thing, whether it a person, possession, job, etc, makes us feel happy or elated and when it goes away we feel sad, we attribute our happiness to whatever it was we attained, but it’s always fleeting, always temporary and never permanent.  Everything we need, EVERYTHING, is all within us and there is no need to look elsewhere to make us feel complete.  Just read Shel Silverstein’s The Missing Piece Meets the Big O (I thought it was about an orgasm and it’s not, just a warning so you aren’t disappointed like I was) and he covers it in very simple terms, in regards to relationships but I think it can be equally transferable to anything we seek in trying to make us feel complete. As much as I thought that bizarre tantra yoga teacher last year from Israel was a kook he did say something I thought was lovely about women: “When you’re single, be happy, when you meet a woman, be happy, when the woman goes away remain happy.  Happiness is not in the form of another person, happiness is you.”  This was just before he told me to drink my own menstrual blood and that of my now former lady friend.  Just like every other teacher, take the things you like, leave the things you don’t.  I’ll let you speculate which of that I left and which of that I took. Ha!

Detaching from the expectation that anything in this world will make you happy is empowering because you really begin to understand all you need is yourself and then it becomes clear that being alone is a state of being while being lonely is just a state of mind.  Any state of mind is easily changed as soon as you change your attitude about it.  Traveling alone makes you aware of this, whether consciously or not, every day you wake and usually it’s the most amazing feeling, so free, vibrant and wonderful, EVER.  All that said, it’s not always easy as I learned recently.  Even after all the progress I feel I’ve made with having a healthy relationship with attachment and detachment there are those times when faced with your own personal crisis when all you crave is the comfort of familiar arms and a shoulder to cry on.  When you’re half way around the world and away from all the people who know you almost as well as you know yourself, it’s HARD!   A picture of a virtual hug and an hour+ of text messaging helps but when you put the phone down and look around, there is a moment when you see yourself surrounded by people but feel completely alone.  At that very moment you can either feel lonely in despair or instead know that whatever you need, whatever answers you seek, will come from within, in due time, when they are ready and able to reveal themselves.  If you’re aware, listen and pay attention to yourself, you find all the answers you need. I’m still seeking some answers, I don’t have them all, I’ve had a rather emotionally rough week but I know everything will be ok, with me, with those I love, with those involved either now or in the future.  While outside support is not necessary it’s always greatly appreciated in whatever capacity, but as long as you let go and detach from all expectations all the strength, courage, motivation, determination, love, vision, happiness and peace you need in this world will be found where it has been the entire time, in you.

One of these days I’ll tell you about why I actually love Arambol… if this damn introspection will ever cease! J 

Xxxox

Always Bruised and Always Dirty!

Shit Talkin Pee Foot & 10 Self Likes/Opportunities

I would like to start this blog entry by calling attention to the fucking incredibly amazing, supportive and ridiculously sweet people in my life.  Whether we’ve seen each other recently or not and some of you, we haven’t even talked in years, the out pouring of kind words, encouragement, compliments that have brought tears to my eyes, anecdotes, questions, pieces of validation and just everything else awesome that has flooded my way has been so fantastic.  These are things I’ve learned I don’t need, I don’t crave and I don’t expect but getting all of this just helps my happiness shine brighter and my smile get that much bigger, and I have a small mouth so it gets streeeeetched!  .  I’m so thankful to know each and every one of you and to be able to call you a friend.  Fuck!  My peeps are awesome!!  Thank you all, sincerely and honestly from the fullness of my open(ing) heart.  You all make me feel like exploding into bits of rainbow glitter goo.

On that note, let’s talk about shit talking, shall we?  Have you ever noticed that when you make a declaration to stop doing something, you become REALLY cognizant to just how much you do it.  I’m not talking about the obvious action ceasing like me making a declaration to stop eating sugar because I’m well aware of my absolute addiction to all things deliciously sweet.  I’m talking about saying you want to stop doing something just because you feel it’s something that you should affirm but you don’t think you do it all that often.  Like… “I’m going to stop making grunting noises when I’m struggling w/ a deuce.”  You don’t think you do it, but you know that you shouldn’t just because if you’re one of those who brave the task in a public facility, discreteness may prove beneficial.  Once you actually say you’re not going to do it though, every time you visit the porcelain seat or squatter, as the case may be for those of you in the east, you feel like your brain is going to burst because ALL you want to do is let out a little vocal assistance?  So I made one of these declarations in my own head about a month ago and it was spurred by my experiences with Vijay and all the random people who would ask me about my experiences.  I would speak as candidly as I felt and usually that was vocal diarrhea out of the mouth kind of candor.  One of the four agreements, actually the first, in the book Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz, is “be impeccable with your word” so I decided to adopt this little ditty and stop talking shit!  I wanted people to make up their own mind about him and while I felt like I was originally doing a service by being a walking Yelp review, I also realized some people really liked this guy, even though I couldn’t think of a worse teacher.  This new declaration didn’t go just for Vijay but for anyone, because you know, I didn’t consider myself much of shit talker in the first place but it was just something I knew was good to not do.  OH MY BLOODY GOD!  You know what I realized? I’m a HUGE shit talker!  HUGE!  Ok, maybe not that big but I’ve had a few instances where I’ve met a couple of new people who drive me absolutely up the fucking wall and all I want to do is share my thoughts about these people with others and sometimes I feel like I’m about to convulse into a hysterical tizzy holding back.  Jesus!  I’ve managed to hold to my word but I’m finding out it’s not as easy as I thought.  There is also a very fine line between shit talking and experience sharing, I find, or maybe there isn’t and I have just justified things I’ve said in the past because it’s “story telling” and not exactly shit talk, or at least I don’t think it is. Then you add gossip in there and it’s just a whole different area to figure out.  What’s the difference between “shit talking,” “gossip” and “experiences”?  Claudio and I were trying to figure this out at dinner last night but we didn’t come to any definitive answers or understanding what’s ok and what’s not.  As you can tell, I haven’t quite sorted this out but it’s new.  If anyone has any insight, it’d be much appreciated. =) 

Maybe I’m just struggling with this now since I meet so many new people and usually I click with them but for those who I don’t, I can’t seem to escape them because I live in such a small place!  I guess that solves the question I never asked myself though - would I ever want to live long term in a small town?  I can now, definitively, say, HELL NO! City living gives you some sense of anonymity, which, after living in Arambol for just a few weeks, is nonexistent and as social as I am, sometimes I just want to tuck into a dark corner of a restaurant by myself, sip my chai, read and pretend no one else is in the room with me.  I find complete serenity in being by myself surrounded by the hustle and bustle of strangers much more than I do spending time at home alone.  When Mr. LA walks into the chai shop though and yells, “HEEEEY! I go somewhere different for breakfast but here you are for lunch!  Let’s talk about how I know the difference between men and women and how I know everything about gay women,” that bubble of solitude bursts into an explosion of dread as I look up at him, look down sadly at my loving Kindle and close it so I can begrudgingly engage.  Dammit!  There goes a wee bit of shit talking.  I’ll mess up along the way. =)  I’m quite transparent though and as one of my loving friends in the Pi Beta Phi house said to me one night over a decade ago, “Jess, it’s like you have a laxative in your head, your face hides NOTHING,” I’m pretty confident my displeasure for the company of certain people is far from hidden, for better or worse.  So much of me wants to talk about these interactions with someone else but why?  It won’t change anything and I’ll just get my feelings off my chest but why do I need it off my chest?  It’s better to just let people be and then go about my own business without paying any mind to them, right?  I think one of my friend’s 2 1/2 year old daughters said it best, “just worry about yourself mom!”  Regardless, it’s been a bit more challenging than expected.  Now, if I meet someone amazing, I’ll grab a damn megaphone, climb to the nearest rooftop and proclaim their awesomeness for all those willing to hear, which I find much pleasure in doing.  I quite enjoy those moments and I’ve had quite a few of them over the last year, with those new and those not new. 

I peed on my foot last night at Double Dutch.  I wonder if that is one of those “life events” I should log on Facebook on my fancy “Timeline”?  I’ve mentioned how Goa is well, not really India.  I’m not a well seasoned India traveler, nor do I think I want to be but I can say, of all the other places I’ve been there is one kind of toilet and almost one kind of toilet only, Squatters!  Along with those squatters are restaurants were there are no chairs but big, lumpy, uneven, well worn cushions on the ground to rest your tush and a low height table to maneuver your legs around to get to your food, laptop, book, chai or joint.  All of this allows for one to open the hips, sink a little bit lower, meaning your ass, and after a few days time, manage to properly use the toilet without any mishaps. I came to love the squatter when I was living in Dharamsala and I was so pro by the time I left I wanted to add to my “wish list,” for the house I will never purchase again, “squatter.” It will fit lovingly into my eastern style restroom where you can brush your teeth, shower and poo all at the same time thanks to no separation of any of the aforementioned amenities.  So this leads to me to Goa, where it’s so western, down to the toilet and the toilet paper that is actually provided by every establishment, I feel like I’m in a dirtier version of Hawaii.  I felt this, until I actually had to use the bathroom at Double Dutch last night, which is a lovely dinning establishment with probably the best deserts in town, all over western style, but their bathroom is a SQUATTER!  I was tickled pink with excitement as I made sure anything that could drop itself into the hole in the porcelain was zipped up and contained and I started doing what you do after drinking about 5L of water.  Even with as much yoga as I’ve been doing, apparently, nothing replaces the action needed to successfully use a squatter like squatting.  I don’t mean “hovering” like women in the west do, getting pee all over the seats, I mean deep, calf stretching, shin flexing squatting.  All of a sudden I felt a splash and looked down and bloody hell, my ass wasn’t low enough to channel all this appropriately and I had pee on my damn heals.  GROOOOSSS!  I didn’t have many options so I just finished and washed up everything as best I could, used the soap that smells like the stuff we used in Lesotho (god that brings back memories), and joined my partner in crime for the evening for dessert.  I made sure I didn’t tuck my feet onto my chair, which everyone often does here, and as soon as I got home and washed the hell out of them some more.  I do have to say, this last act is actually part of my routine every time I come into my room because my feet are perpetually dirty, walking on all of these dirt paths covered in only god knows what.  I may not mind being filthy while I’m out an about during the day, like when I’m noshing on my fruit, muesli and curd, drinking my apple, carrot, beet, ginger juice, covered head to toe in dirt after a morning of Aerial but my room, and me in it are always immaculate! Each day, along with my Moolabandha exercises, aka: keggels, I’m going to work on my squat so this never happens again!  So if any of you are planning a trip to India or anywhere in Asia, EVER, do yourself a favor, do yourself some squats and you’re welcome!

Another potentially gross fact – a razor hasn’t touched my legs since I left Seattle.  I know I know, some of you lovely hippy friends of mine don’t shave and I don’t think you’re gross, only your legs but I hate body hair, anywhere, except on the head, and even then, only where appropriate. Like these Indian guys with hair on their ears AS LONG AS my hair before I shaved it… what is UP with that?!  And I feel like the time I’ve saved on scull hair maintenance is directly proportional to the time I’ve added making sure my eyebrows are always lovely and I’ll be damned if they EVER look like Iyengar’s.  Omg, man, you’re a yoga legend, I’m sure SOMEONE wouldn’t mind taking some scissors to those beasts atop both of your eye sockets.  Anyway, the reason I haven’t been shaving is because I just got back from my full leg and bikini waxing that cost me a whopping 390 rupees, which is less than $8 USD!  I find it hard to justify wasting the one pack of decent Gillett disposables on my leg hair when I can get waxed for less than it cost me to buy those bloody razors.  Divya has a little air-conditioned shop just across the road from where I stay and I’ve been to her a few times and she’s quite a lovely lady as is her assistant.  Aside from the ridiculously cheap cost of getting my legs done, it’s a little too efficient.  See, I’m used to paying my $130 (ish and I think that included tip) at the good ole Gene Juarez in Bellevue with Basila (GO SEE HER!!  She’s so lovely and wonderful and tell her I say hi!), and spending a nice hourish chatting it up, having some wax put on and than having some wax and hair ripped off.  There was always this nice recovery time when Basila was smoothing the luxuriously warm and soothing wax onto my legs where I could try to enjoy my time with her before the torture ensued seconds later. The moments were short but they were such a nice reprieve.  Divya and her assistant DOUBLE UP!!  While one is not to gently using the hard spatula to wax me up with her homemade raw honey wax, the other one is ripping the shit somewhere else on one of my legs.  God forbid the wax application is so efficient that they both rip at the same time or one right after the other.  *riptearyankpullripripripRIIIIP* one right after the other.  In those awful moments, it feels like the reflexes of pain coursing throughout my body are going to make me go into a seizure on the table.  That’s about when I start to sweat profusely from every single sweat gland on my body and she has to reach for the remote control to crank up the air conditioning, sometimes even double whammy it with the ceiling fan.  I’m a fiery slippery mother fucker, to say the least and based on her reaction, I’m apparently a drenched anomaly in her world.  Maybe I should try this sattvic diet for my damn pitta body (it’s auryvedic shit, look it up).  That all said, I’m in and out of that place of torture in 30 minutes and only $8 poorer so I’ve made a vow that while I’m in India, I’ll be waxing exclusively, as long as I can find a beauty salon with air-conditioning. =)

Peace out bitches!

Xxxx
Dirty

P.S. Time for the 10 self likes and opportunities! Wheee fun!

March 10 Self Likes/Opportunities

10 Self Likes

• I allow myself ample “me” time and understand it’s invaluable importance and necessity
• When I don’t succeed immediately, I keep trying, as long as it’s something I love and really, what’s the point for something I don’t?
• Away of body limitations and not so subtle messages
• Give myself appropriate rest when needed
• Healthy attachment/detachment with new relationships in my life that I’d like to translate into ALL  relationships, in all its forms
• Enjoy a healthy routine that’s flexible enough for spontaneity
• I’m proud of all I’ve done, good and not so good and the lessons I’ve learned from all of it
• I’m patient with myself when learning new things, like AERIAL!!
• If I want to do something, I do it!  If I don’t want to do something, I don’t do it!  If I NEED to do something I don’t want to do, I change my attitude about it and do it.
• I’ve showed immense restraint with accumulating any new material possessions

10 Self Opportunities

• Be more aware when on the verge of reacting and take the time to mindfully act
• Bloody get your sugar fiendishness under control, woman!
• Be nicer when in the presence of someone whom I rather were not around
• Empathize with other’s issues but don’t take them on myself, in anyway
• Find ways to help from regressing to old habit patterns whilst pmsing
• Be more diligent in focusing on the now when I catch my mind where it shouldn’t be
• Listen more and actively and talk less
• Spend more time reading, studying and meditating and less on my phone
• Have more patience for others
• Set up and keep a budget

Dying and flying... maybe not in that order

There was a moment, I’m not exactly sure when it happened but it did.  I haven’t posted much of anything since I’ve been gone but if you look back 2 blog entries you’ll see what seemed to be my seething abhor for Goa, specifically Arambol, which is the small town I’ve been living the past 2 months.  I couldn’t wait to get away and to get out but there was a moment, once Jade, Yaniv and Clive left, where I started to LOVE this place.  It’s not because they left that I loved it, don’t mistake that comment but what happened was my friends, meaning my security, comfort, sounding boards were no longer here and I had 3 weeks left in a place that I couldn’t stand and I needed to figure out how to not be miserable.  I already knew how stupid it was to even say or think that I hated my time here so one day I just made the decision to not hate it!  I stopped seeing Goa for what it wasn’t, I stopped seeing Vijay, my yoga teacher for the TTC, for what he wasn’t, I stopped trying to make both something they weren’t and I instead started seeing them for what they were.  I’d like to think I did this on my own but I’ll admit, I did meet a sweet, ridiculously gorgeous Italian, Alba, who asked me at dinner why I wasn’t going to stay longer in Arambol and I said, “I hate it!  It’s gross and it’s just a bunch of smoking, drinking, psytrance loving party freaks.”  She was confused and said, “but why?  You have the beach, it’s sunny, there are good places to eat, good yoga, you have everything you need.”  That moment was the beginning of my transition and not because of the smoking hot Italian but because I really needed to make a shift and I knew that.  You know that phrase that goes something like, “if you criticize you should look at yourself first”?  Well, I would always be disheartened when speaking to my now former lady because every situation she was in was negative to her and I was a big proponent of switching the mind to look at the positive and she just was so resistant and here I was doing the same fucking thing.  Arambol isn’t a horrible place to be, I was making it horrible, and granted Vijay is quite an awful, discriminating, morally fucked up teacher but like with all teachers, you take what you can learn and you leave what you don’t like.  Sometimes the lessons you learn from the people who come into your life is not what you want to emulate but what you NEVER want to emulate but still, that lesson is beyond valuable and it forces you to keep yourself in check and grow...differently. 

My TTC didn’t get any better but where I could, I made every effort to distance myself from Vijay as much as possible and sometimes the fucking god awful teachers he hired to teach us various parts of the curriculum.  His anatomy teacher kept calling capillaries, veins and arteries “pipes”… PIPES!  What the fuck are pipes?!  When the “Doctor” told me that if you just look at a muscle and wish for it to be stronger it will be, I walked out of class, went to my room, opened my laptop and opened one of the 7 FULL Anatomy and Physiology text books Jade and I had scored in what I like to call our “Yoga Resource JACKPOT.”  Dr. Ganesh was the only light we had in that entire course, well and when Prabu, his head assistant, came back from gallivanting around India with his then girlfriend, I had a little bit of sanity among the insanity that is bipolar Vijay.  I don’t say that as to just be calling names, as those who know me well know I have no reason do to that, but I really think he is.  Prabu is probably the sweetest Indian man I’ve ever met and each night, he, Dominic, my new German climbing, ashtangie, stone sculpting, pilgrim of a man, would meet at “the yoga wall” and talk for an hour, plus, before dominic and I would go get dinner somewhere, usually the Rice Bowl (NOMNOMNOM VEG HAKKA NOODLE IN MY MOUTH HOLE!). 

What I took away from the training was knowing I want to be a teacher that is the opposite of Vijay.  I want to always be present, aware, focused on my students, well, this all granted I do end up teaching somewhere, someday.  I don’t want to ever discriminate anyone based on gender, age or ability and I never want to show a preference for those students naturally bendy students or ones who have had their own ridiculously beautiful practice for over a decade.  This was rather insightful because as a personal trainer, I always thought I’d want to work with those athletes who are already awesome to make them more awesome but one of my favorite times in class was when one of Alba’s friends, an older woman who didn’t speak of lick of English and who obviously had never set foot on a yoga mat before in her life, came to our evening Hatha class.  I was doing my own practice right in front of her, Alba behind her and when we were in Triangle pose, I glanced over and saw none of “my boys,” as I loving call Vijay’s 3 assistants (with Prabu, is Praba and Siva), knew what the fuck to do with her completely and totally misaligned body by way of corrections.  It’s already been made painfully clear to me after this month that Vijay has NO idea how to take a completely novice Western body and teach them yoga, so she was ignored.  Granted, this woman may not take up yoga as her new lifetime hobby, but I’ll be damned if she’s going to get hurt and it would be unfortunate if she never set foot on a mat again because she was left frustrated not knowing what to do and no one bothered to help her.  I stopped my own practice, made eye contact, positioned myself so she could see exactly what we were doing and did my practice at her level so she could mimic me and spent the rest of the time correcting her.  You don’t need to speak the language to do basic posturing, I learned that after teaching little kids in the flat rock danga in Lesotho how to do sun salutations after they spent 2 hours watching me do my own practice and I caught them out of the corner of my eye trying to emulate my movements.  The woman was so happy I helped and she had Alba ask me, “so you’ll be here every day yes?!”  I smiled and said I would but that next day, they didn’t come but was also the day I ended up dysentery for a week and was laid flat for 3 of those days, unable to keep anything in my body for longer than 10-20 minutes and unable to be anything but horizontal.

I learned SO much about myself from the experience with Vijay and one of the students from this last round, Aquila, and I said that as awful as the training had been, we’d recommend it to anyone who wants to learn more about themselves than they ever thought imaginable.  I learned I am VERY susceptible to other people’s energy and negative emotions, conversely, I get exceptionally amped around those who are happy and positive. Since this revelation I’ve been doing tons of work to make sure I remain as even keeled as possible around others and keep balanced in myself and this will be something I have to be aware of for a long time to come.  I learned that while my self-discipline absolutely SUCKS for restraining myself on sugar binges and having a consistent meditating practice, it’s on point when it comes to self study and I’ve learned more about the sutras and anatomy in general and anatomy concepts specific to yoga in the past 2 months than I’ve ever learned before.  I make a point to keep my studies and reading balanced between pleasure (just finished Nelson Mandela’s autobiography and holy hell, it was a phenomenal read!), the sutras and the science behind yoga and the body.  I also have the self-discipline in my own asana practice and have no problem making my way to the other side of the rooftop shala across the street to do my own 2+ hour self practice, which I LOVE doing.  If/when I move back to Seattle, I’m going to need to make one part of my place specific for yoga and only yoga so I can continue a self practice… unless Anne Phyfe will let me use one of the 8 Limbs studios for self practice during non class hours… heh J

Ok, enough about all that yoga, even though that was the only reason I came to Goa to begin with.  This new found appreciation I gained for Arambol opened me up to some other experiences and allowed me to better enjoy the ones I was already having.  It also meant that as soon as Jan 29^th came and I was done with my TTC, I didn’t bolt the hell out of this place like I had originally intended.  Low and behold, I was extending my stay and for a duration I wasn’t totally aware of.  Walking home from dinner one night I saw a fresh flier taped to a palm tree on the walk back to my room that was for an aerial silks workshop.  I don’t know when this happened but I not so secretly want to be a circus freak and I’ve always been fascinated by aerial.  I couldn’t contain my excitement!  I snapped a pic of the contact information, got home, sat on it for about .0034 minutes and then shot them an email.  That next week an 8 day workshop was going to start for 2 ½ hours a day and it would span the course of 2 weeks.  I met with Arianna and Enrique, the lovely and adorable couple from Spain and Mexico, respectively, at the thali/coconut stand and they told me a bit about themselves, took me deep to the other side of Arambol to their backyard where they have a massive tree with 2 glorious silks suspended from the hefty, curved trunk.  That next Tuesday I met them and 4 other people for our first class.  It was love at first climb!  The week before, thanks to me getting a little over zealous in my yoga practice post dysentery week, I was nursing my old shoulder injury from rowing that flared up.  I wanted to be in prime shape for this workshop and on the day we started I was about 80% there.  Holy hell almighty this shit is not easy.  Not only is it not easy, I realized my least favorite exercise had to soon become my favorite, PULL UPS!  We managed, on our first day, to learn the basic climb, the angel, splits, the shoe, cocoon and I feel like we learned some more but I can’t think that far back right now.  It was amazing and the feeling I had leaving that first day was like the feeling I had the first time I slipped into a rowing shell at River Place on the Willamette River when I was 15 years old.  I was exhilarated and on such a high for the rest of the day it was bordering on insanely ridiculous.  I took myself out to lunch on the way home at this place called Magic Park which cuisine wise, takes me to Seattle with their local, vegan organic menu.  They have napping/meditation areas, a large expanse just to the side of the restaurant for dancers to practice, yogi and yogini’s to twist and jugglers to well, juggle. It’s super chill and so NOT india but remember, I’m not trying to make this place what it’s not anymore and enjoying what it is.  Aerial has humbled me in my strength to weight ratio and I’m missing my rowing muscles like crazy right now but I’ll get there.  Enrique actually coordinated, with his friend in Mumbai, to get us each our own set of silks if we wanted.  For the nice low price of $20 I know am the proud owner of shimmery, deep wine fabric that I can tie up wherever I find a worthy tree or support.  Aerial conditioning during my travels has been added as a “must do.” =) 

Another shining moment in life lessons was when I decided I was going to finally take pois lessons.  Sanne, one of the girls I met who came to yoga every day, had taken a 3 day workshop with this Indian dude named Sunny and after I was over taking Vijay’s horrific Hatha class in the evenings, I supplemented that time with Sunny.  I said before I left Seattle that I was going to be cliché and learn to spin fire on the beaches of Goa, but it turns out, it was more up the street and on the rooftop of an Auryvedic massage joint that I’d learn.  Pois is fun, it’s frustrating and I finished my 3 days and since I was going to be here longer, Sunny was going to be here longer, I asked him if I could keep coming.  The more I learned the more everything felt unnatural, until you get it, then you wonder how you never got it before.  On the 3^rd or 4^th day Sunny asked me, “soooo did Sanne tell you anything about me?”  I stopped spinning and gave him a funny look, which I had done a lot because he just solicits funny looks and shit talking banter.  “Um, she told me you teach pois and that after 3 classes she felt like she could actually do some stuff.  Is there something else I should know?!”

He gives me an odd look and asks, “so she didn’t tell you that I have... premonitions?” This is something I’ve found is actually pretty common in India, people claiming to have this additional insight whether it be a guru, which Sanjay’s by the way was SPOT ON, a shop owner or now, my pois teacher.  “So, I’m not sure how you would take it but if you want me to say anything I will, or I can just keep quiet.  People react differently or they think they want to know and then when I say something they really didn’t but I let you decide.”

I was game, it can’t hurt so I respond, “I don’t mind if you tell me.  Does this mean that you knew I was going to be taking lessons with you then?!”

He laughed, “no, not like that but now that you’re here, I see things.  You’ve made one big mistake in your life and if you make it again, you may not survive.  Ok, now do forward butterfly.”

I give him the "you-tell-me-THAT-and-want-me-to-just-start-doing-forward-butterfly look" and reluctantly start to do forward butterfly.  While doing my forward butterfly I ask him, “so what was my big mistake?”

“That’s not for me to tell you but for you to figure out for yourself,” he replied.

“But I’ve made TOOOONS of mistakes in my life!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah yeah, we all have, but you’ve made one really BIG BIG BIIIIIIG ONE!”  I went back to trying to focus on my pois spinning but was, rightfully, a little thrown off and not at all thinking about my forward butterfly but what I've already done in my life that could kill me if I did it again.  I like to think I've reached a point where I'm ok with dying because let's be honest now, we are ALL going to die and each day that passes is one day closer to our end but if it's for something stupid, that's just dumb!  He had me doing some new trick thing where I take one pois behind my head at a time, alternating with each completed circle and I kept messing up. He looks at me and says, “before you make a mistake, come back to the front and balance the pois.”  Two more cycles and I fucked it up and they were all tangled again. “I told you to come back and balance before you made a mistake!” he yelled.  He liked to yell and swear under his breath when I fucked up.

I was unwinding my pois from each other and glared at him, like I tended to do, and said, “I didn’t know I was going to make a mistake!” He asked me, “why not?  I knew you were going to make a mistake.  Why didn’t you know?”  I thought on it for a little while and answered, “because I don’t think I’m quite here right now, I’m a little spacey thinking about HOW I'M GOING TO DIE.”

At that very moment, I knew exactly what BIIIIIG mistake he was talking about and that opened up the opportunity for us to have a lovely conversation on the rooftop, while he smoked his Beedies and I sipped my water when my lesson was done.  I tend to have really profound and wonderful discussions with people while traveling, usually yogis and yogini’s but this conversation with Sunny was unlike any other.  The things we discussed, the places our conversation went, the thoughts it triggered and what it continues to trigger, were all really incredible.  I was going to cover some highlights here but I’m thinking against that now and only because I think it’s best left as a discussion between friends than a conversation written down.  Pois to him isn’t just pois, it’s a metaphor for life and how people react, how they behave, how they make decisions, how they anticipate what’s coming, how they learn, etc.  I don’t know if he really has premonitions or if he’s like S.N. Goenka (the Vipassana teacher extraordinaire) and has just had SO many students over the years that he’s paid special attention to every aspect of them and allowed himself to be completely aware of all types.  I learned more from Sunny in the 2 weeks I was with him than I’ve learned from anyone else in that short span of time and I’d almost be tempted to come back to Goa next year to study with him some more.  I was hoping for a teacher in Vijay when I came to Goa but I found, instead, a silly man who apologizes incessantly from Pushkar who spins pois who became my teacher.

I met with Sanjay’s guru when I was in Rishikesh this past july and he told me a bunch of stuff that, when translated, seemed like they were things I didn’t already know but where actually all things that were presently happening and that I was aware of.  One thing he did say was, “you’re going through a hard time right now and in 6 months time, things will be better, they will start getting better in September but they will be better in 6 months.”  I took all this with a grain of salt but I have to say, once I made the conscious decision to change my attitude towards my present situation, my life completely transformed and I’ve been happier now than I’ve ever remembered.  About a week ago I remembered the words of the guru and did the math and low and behold, it was almost 6 months to the day that things became awesome.  I’m not too sure what the “improvement” was in September he was talking about because that span from October to December was rather hellacious but having that allowed me to be in the place I am now, fully open to accepting pure happiness into my life and experiences of all shapes.  It’s all been a lesson and it’s all been great, even if it didn’t feel great while the gross was happening but you know, that always changes.  Feelings and emotions are fleeting and constantly changing so focusing on the balance has been paramount in my shift and if there is anything I want to take away from this experience, it's finding that!  anicca... anicca... ANICCA mother fuckers!

Until later...

xxxxxx

Dirty

Street Meat & Feb 10 Likes/Opportunities

I’ve determined that if left to my own devices in the wilderness, I would be killed by any number of the natural beasts that roam this earth.  What is it with me and near death/injury or general paralyzing terrifying experiences with creatures other than humans?  There were the pissed off elephants in Africa, the monkeys in North India, the dive bombing seagull in Seattle, the humped back whale in Maui and I’m sure there have been others in the past and today, I can chalk up another moment of terror thanks to the holy cows. 

I’ve found hidden “streets,” which are actually dirt paths, that cut through the middle of Arambol, that I’ve preferred to walk during the day but before all the shops open, I really enjoy walking the main road to get to the other end of town for my Aerial Silks class, which don’t worry, I’ll talk about later in either this blog or a subsequent one when my fingers are more functioning. As I’m journeying to the monster tree where two lovely silks suspend in the small clearing behind our teachers house, I walk past all the shops as they roll the metal security doors up, dust off their items, organize the store fronts and put all of their goods on display.  I approached the main turn in the road by the thali shack that has the absolute BEST and cheapest Masala Chai and the cheapest vegetable thali at the lovely cost of 40 rupees, equivalent to $0.80, in town.  Also at this little junction is a juice shack where you can get a freshly dropped coconut hacked open w/ a straw plopped into the hole so you can slurp the wonderfully delicious coconut  water.  I was really jonesin for a coconut but on the other side of the road I saw this huge dust cloud.  I don’t know what I initially thought it was, actually no, I do, I thought someone was using a lawn mower or something odd because there was quite the commotion.  Not wearing my glasses and having terrible vision of distance I got a bit closer and saw 2 cow head butt the hell out of each other.  All of a sudden a stick comes hurling at one of the cows backs and not 2 but 4 to 6 cows half stampede, half head butt each other in the middle of the street, catapulting their massive bodies directly in my direction.  I’m only about 50m away and I fucking HAUL ASS towards the beach where I had just come from as one cow hauls its body at another and they skid from one side of the street to the other, slamming towards the shops and fortunately, only grazed a few.  Red plastic chairs are flying in the air, the few other people walking on the street all abandon whatever plans they had and start to run away, a few women scream and I finally find an open shop and with agility I didn’t realize I still possessed, duck deep into a shop, hiding w/ all of the men with their embroidery machines, stitching Angry Birds on cotton t-shirts.  What in the hell is it with Angry Birds on clothing?!  Come on people!  Anyway, I turn to look out the shack’s opening and see 2 of the cows just outside looking pissed as hell and I clutch my bag to my chest, like my bloody yoga mat is going to protect me, and I turn to look at the Indian man standing right next to me and I must have a look of sheer terror wipe across my face as I made an “EEEEECK!” noise.

The next thing I see is a stick coming down to hit one of the cows on the back and men running down the street making the kinds of noises you would speak when living on a farm, you know, the clicks, haaaaaaaaiiiiiii’s and whatever else you can envision Clint Eastwood saying to a horse.  The cows slowly start to separate, cars get impatient and honk their horns, which I can’t imagine would really help the situation but you know, Indian’s are weird so whatever they do, do it guuurl.  I carefully peek my head out and see the coast is clear(ish) and I very quickly walk down the street, holding tight to the shops and any potential refuge from a possible full on charge.  As I round the corner and quicken my pace even more I see a man on the other side of the street where 4 of the angry cows where, shooin them in MY direction.  Holy fuck balls!  I’m booty swiveling competitive walking now, which I learned from watching Oprah years ago, and I see safety in the Himalayan Iyengar Center sign suspended over the road because that’s my turn off in a direction that is hopefully pissed off cowless.  I get to the turn off and breathe a sigh of relief and continue on my merry way to the most amazing thing ever, my Aerial Silks workshop.  At one point when we were sitting during our warm up some angry looking cows came up from the beach and were heading straight for us, and I can’t lie, my chest may have felt like a vice grip was just cranked around the part of my chest, cutting off any functioning capabilities of my trachea.  It seems we have made our spot their former path and they were a bit perplexed but left us alone, thank Shiva! I may need to reinstate chanting the Saturn Mantra Sanjay’s guru gave me to chant whenever I see cows.  I mean, he didn’t give it to me to chant whenever I saw cows but to chant because it’s good for me and whilst stressed, it seems to calm me.  It seemed to work when I was surrounded by monkey’s in McLeod Ganj.

Ok, after a really emotionally charged week of awesomeness I’m going to lay my nekkid bod down on my bed for a nap.  One of my new friends is on the verge of going through a bad spell and I may have a roommate for a few days so my routine of coming home and immediately stripping off my clothes like they were swarming with maggots may be halted temporarily.  I hate wearing clothes I’ve decided.  I also had no idea being so happy and having so many amazing things going on could give you an overload headache, or maybe that’s the lack of water knocking on my Parietal (yeah, anatomy, I know it).  I think I want to hide tonight in a book.  Btw, just started reading Nelson Mandela’s autobiography and W-O-W, I wish I would’ve read this before going to South Africa!  As if I wasn’t already disgusted with white people and the Western World and the superiority complex going along with both of those as it is…

It’s Feb 1, and I did my 10 likes and what I’m now calling “opportunities.”  You know, I’m going all Tony Little on my own ass with positive speak.  Wait, no, that’s Tony Robbins and Tony Little is the “swish swish” workout machine guy right?  Whatever… I’m losing it so until later…

XXXOX,

Currently Silk Burned yet always Dirty

P.S.  All this Aerial makes me want to slice into one of those crazed holy cows and grill up a thick ass hamburger.  May as well slice open one of those humping pigs adjacent to the yoga hall too and throw some bacon on there with it. STREET MEEEEAAAATTT IN MY MOOOOUUUTH HOLE! NOMNOMNOM!!

P.P.S.  Feb 10 Likes/Opps below... yeeeeaaahh!

February 2012 Ten Likes/Opportunities

10 Likes

• Greater self-awareness
• Listen to my physical body
• Always seeking more knowledge/wisdom
• When I say I want to do something, I DO it
• Positive energy a majority of the time
• Appreciate what I have and don’t focus on what I don’t have
• Honest
• Unlimited truly unconditional love for my friends and family
• Selfless
• Taking time to really work on and understand myself to be the best me for me and in turn for others
• Dedication and loyalty to things I love

10 Opportunities

• Improve self-discipline
• Don’t get affected by other people’s energy             
• Gain patience and get less annoyed
• Break the metal clasping my heart and let go
• Decrease rigidness in ideas
• Act vs. React
• Breath when emotional and gather thoughts before communicating
• Attentively listen more and talk less
• Create and keep a budget
• Detach from expectations of everything

Floater & Top 10 January 2012

You know what’s really disconcerting?  When you hear a gurgle coming from the bathroom and upon investigation you see the toilet bowl that was flushed and clean is now murky and a wee turd is just chillin on the surface.  I’m almost 90% positive that didn’t come from me. *shivers and flushes*

This trip has proven to be way different than any other time I’ve left home.  What is usually filled with stories, adventure and excitement has almost entirely turned inside and I’ve been really introspective and rather introverted.  Whatever self-exploration I was supposed to do the last time I left, but managed to successfully avoid, for the most part, is happening this time around, like something fierce.  Don’t get me wrong, the last 5 months I was in India definitely helped lay a foundation for further exploration and my trip home provided lots of insight into myself and shined a light on just how far I’ve grown and changed in some respects and where lots of work still needs to be done.  The inner workings of my brain space is not exactly something I want to write about, at least not publicly, and I’ve been more enjoying talking it out w/ the wife over Whatsapp so my blog has taken a back seat to reading, learning and thinking, not brooding, just thinking. 

I did have one bought of food poisoning that left me exploding out of both ends of my body, simultaneously no less, when my body didn’t absorb a single teeny thing for about 48 hours.  I’m pretty sure my abs became ripped from so much retching and here I thought the pollution induced coughing spasms were going to leave me w/ a six-pack o abtacular muscle!  My sister coined the loving term “vooping” for such grand occasions of hellacious existence when she was traveling through Guatemala a number of years ago, a term I have adopted and gotten the privilege of using on almost every one of my travels abroad.  That’s about as much adventure as I’ve experienced the last 5 weeks, oh, excluding the dead guy they dragged off the beach in broad daylight, all pretty exciting stuff, huh?  Since I am being so self analyzing though I wanted to start posting something I started doing India round 1.  Roshan, our teacher at Yog Peeth in Rishikesh, suggested we start doing a top 10 the 1^st of every month of our 10 things we love/dig about ourselves and the 10 things we don’t dig so much.  We all have amazing qualities about us and, conversely, things that are challenges to not only ourselves but to others, AND since I left my journal in my storage unit at home that had these for the months I diligently logged them, I’m just going to post them here.  I have no reason to hide what I think is awesome about me and what I think sucks and really, no one else should either, and, I’d kinda like to have it available so I can look back on them.  I did my one for January on Dec 31^st and I’ll be doing the Feb one in about a week or so and it’s been interesting to do.  At first it took me awhile to think of 10 things I loved about myself and no time at all do to the 10 things I didn’t like and while I was at home I spaced on doing this but I really find it valuable, especially since so much of why I’m gone is to force myself into uncomfortable situations to see how I respond.  I’m a glutton of sorts. ;)

Top 10 Likes/Dislikes

Likes:

1. Loving, unconditionally
2. Easy, open and honest communicator
3. Wisdom seeking
4. Selfless
5. Better at seeing people/situations for who/what they are not who/what I want them to be
6. Easily adaptable and flexible
7. Get along well with just about anyone I meet
8. Organized
9. Always trying to be a better person for myself and for others
10. I am really really fun! J

Dislikes:

1. Need to be a better listener and question asker
2. Self discipline needs lots of work
3. Emotions rule too much of my life (I feel my feelings w/ feeling as my friend Summer once told me)
4. Attachment/detachment issues
5. Need to be more present
6. I don’t always trust myself
7. Get easily drawn away by distractions, especially pretty ones
8. Sometimes lack tact or when emotional, struggle with communicating what I really want and how I really feel
9. Still need improvement on not taking things personally
10. Lack patience

Well this was exciting!

XXXOX,

Dirty

p.s. Happy 1/2 birthday to yours truly! yeah!

GOA-WAY

Who in the hell put Caro Emerald on my computer and why am I JUST NOW finding it?  OMG!  Love!  Shit, I was in a writing mood but putting this on makes me want to shake my ass and kick my legs around like I’ve got fringe on a flapper dress to shwoosh around the air.  Something tells me the Xanax I just took, to allow me to sleep whilst among the mayhem of Christmas/New Years week in Arambol, Goa, India, may kick in and I’d look more like a sloth trying to liquid rave dance in about ten minutes.  Actually, if you want to know how many days I’ve been here so far, all you need to do is look at my xanax supply and count all the torn foil and squished plastic circles to see what it’s taken me to not only promptly get onto India time but to bloody sleep in this place.  In my not so extensive world traveling, there are a number of places that have touched me so deeply that once I’m in a place to actually find some stability, whatever that is, and a suitable partner in loving crime (cuz you know, we homos are breakin the law! breakin the law!, in many of these here worldly parts), I would want nothing more than to take her to these spots.  Arambol is NOT one of these locations!  I don’t think any spot in Goa would be worthy, not that I’ve had time to explore with my 13 hour yoga days, which is not a complaint, just a glorious reality.  I gave up my serious club and partying days years ago and at the roadside vendors you can find all sorts of lovely paraphernalia like pipes and coke/ice bullets.  I vowed to stop drinking the week I got back from Berlin and as hard as it’s been on some days when my equanimity has been severely tested, I’ve death gripped the shit out of the railings of the sober wagon. I view club and party culture the SAME IN EVERY PART OF THE WORLD.  Just because you plop it in India and throw in a pretty beach with lots of saggy crotch pants, doesn’t mean that god awful psytrance you’re listening to whilst sucking white shit up your nose through the bullet is any different than if you were in a warehouse in Seattle.  This place is nothing but the party and the sun-bathing hangover, which is totally great for those who dig traveling this way but it’s not my scene, AT ALL, not anymore.  Since I’m not here to party, travel or explore and I literally just walk across the street from my guest house to the yoga space 878,935 a day, it’s making it ok that I’m here but I’m surrounded by those who have come here to party their asses off or make money off those wanting to party their asses off.  If I was hoping to get any sort of Indian culture from here, I would’ve made it a day or so and then peaced out of this pop stand.  

God, I’m sounding so bitter, and I’m really not; although, I will say that this week I realized, since I left McLeod Ganj, which IS one of those spots I’d take a lady love, my equanimity has been perpetually tested, or maybe I’m just more aware of the fact I have equanimity and that it’s always tested.  In either case my aspiring yogini self has still a loooong way to go in dealing with the ups and downs and now that I’m actually in a better mindset at this moment, I’m thankful for all the tests.  I’m more thankful for the gloriousness of the people and situations I’ve had that are loving and wonderful but even the bull shit experienced since the middle of October I’ve found an ability to appreciate, and I wouldn’t change a thing that’s happened.   The difference between home and now is that I allowed myself to completely lose all focus on what I really want from myself when I was visiting Seattle.  Had I maybe stuck to SOME of my yogic lifestyle, the one god awful challenging experience I had at home may not have taken up so much of my emotional energy, whereas now, I’m back on the path and doing things that are good for me and living the way I want to live, which allows me to be more of a witness to what I’m faced with rather than throwing myself into it emotionally.Well and also at home, I was dealing with someone who I used to be in love with but now whom I, unfortunately, find almost impossible to like.  Right now, with my current challenge, my yoga teacher, I need to constantly remind myself, “take the things you like and leave the things you don’t and just BITE YOUR FUCKING TONGUE.”  5 days - that may have been the quickest and shortest honeymoon phase ever for me.  I really think I need to propose to the Yoga Alliance that they need to hire me as a TTC Consultant to travel the world, observing those schools that are registered with the alliance to ensure their adequacy.  I mean, I’m a total gap analysis nerd with a keen eye for inadequacies, mad skills at making things run more effectively and implementing changes and I loooooove yoga so the marriage of the two, mixed with travel would just be awesome, right?  I’ll see if they bite J 

I’m having a bit of a rough week, which sounds utterly retarded considering I’m in fucking Goa, where the sun is shining, I wake to a crisp, almost cleanish air w/ the sound of the waves smashing into the shore, the sky is so polluted you can look directly at the huge glowing pink sun setting over the Arabian Sea every night and I’m doing yoga, in whichever of its 8 limb forms, 13 hours a day.  I know it sounds completely ridiculous and I should have nothing to complain about, in fact, I try to never complain and always find the positivity but rest assured all, I’m still an unenlightened human! J  I think I’m PMSing, which I’ve found, for 1 week a month, negates any emotional progress I’ve made over the years.  At least I return to a relative “shanti, shanti” resemblance of myself as soon as I start to bleed out like a sacrificial lamb.  I also think the Xanax has kicked in and I’m feeling mushy brained so story time, which I hadn’t even started yet, will have to commence at another moment in time.  Time to drown out the horrible western jazz funk band playing about a 100m away… I’m in India for fucks sake!  Where are the sitars and tablas!?

<II>  ßthat’s a pause button, in case you didn’t catch that. ;)

(<)

I just counted the number of squished plastic circles that used to contain a xanax pill.  Ten.  I’ve only been here 10 days?!  For the record, it was 8 when I started this blog entry.  Jesus Christ it feels like sooo much longer!  As expected, my inability to keep my craziness in check last week was due to the loveliness of womanhood but thanks to the ridiculous quantity of yoga I’m doing daily, sacrificial lamb status hasn’t been reached, THANK GOD!  I wanted to start writing about some of my fun stories since being here like getting the best reflexology massage at 2am by a blind man in the Mumbai Airport, the shanti restaurant waiter throwin blows within hours of me getting to Goa, the corpse on the beach, my sleep deprived purchase upon reaching goa that reminds me of farts, the smoking hot Russian chick who calls everyone “Baby” like she’s a Hollywood agent or my teacher bagging out of teaching the Hatha classes my first 2 days and throwing the task to me with, literally, 2 minutes warning.  The last few days though, something has happened while I was practicing laying meditation during Vijay’s chants in our final relaxation during our evening class. 

I’ve attempted to do laying Vipassana most days to make quality use of the time, besides sleeping, which I tend to do, but yesterday I said “fuck it” and decided to just focus on a chakra the entire time.  Now we all have these main energy ports and most everyone’s Anahata Chakra (located at the spine by your heart) is perpetually blocked or just royally fucked, and I’m no exception.  Each chakra has an associated flower design as well as color and for the VERY FIRST time yesterday, with my eyes closed, I actually saw color!  It morphed from blackness to a weird brightness, which isn’t unusual but all of a sudden, like a shade, a bright greenish turquoise color fell over my focus.  It was so beautiful and weird and as soon as I got excited, it went away, just like when I jump into handstand w/ both feet and find the perfect balance just before raising my legs to their final vertical position.  I ran back to my room after wriggling my toes and fingers back to awareness to text Brittnay and tell her because this shit has always come so easily to her and I finally saw a glimpse of what she’s been able to see.  By the way, India is not the same without that girl and god dammit I miss her.

Today, among all the annoying psytrance, biebs, and live funk folk, silence descended and from somewhere, I heard a live trumpet proudly playing Sinatra’s Fly Me to the Moon, which id and always will be one of my favorite songs of all time.  My sisters and I had this stuffed purple and green plane with a huge cute smiling face a little wind up music box inside.  We’d wind it and in the most delicate of sounds, it would play a very soft version of Sinatra’s classic and for whatever reason, we all feel like crying when we hear it.  The urge fell upon us as children when Jamie got it when she was born and it happens to this day.  I don’t know if my grandfather, my mom’s dad, gave it to Jamie but for whatever reason, I always think of him when I see that thing.  Maybe it was because he was a fighter pilot in World War II and the Korean War or maybe it was his love of Sinatra but when I hear that song or see that stuffed animal, he is all I can think of.  I got a picture of him in my inbox just the day before Christmas, one that I don’t think my mom had ever seen or at least not seen in a long time.  He passed away when I was 15 years old and was my last living grandparent.  My dad’s dad died just after I was born, his mom, when I was 10 of diabetes/obesity and my mom’s mom of her own self destructive lifestyle when I was… I don’t even know how old I was.  The only grandparent I ever really knew was Papa and he, like my mom, was the glue that held the family together in unity throughout all the madness, changes, challenges and immense difficulty.  He was her rock and to me and my sister’s, he was the greatest.  He’d put on Sinatra and we’d play boca ball in his backyard in Manhattan Beach, California during our summer vacations or he’d come lay with us at the pool at our hotel.  He was a giant compared to my tiny self and I’d get lost in his hugs.  I wish I had more memories of him but I feel like I’ve pushed a lot of the first half of my life out of my head, which I guess can be considered the root of all reasons why I’m where I am today, literally… ½ way across the world trying to figure out my shit.  

My mom gave me an old wooden chest that contained all of my and my sisters’ stuffed animals when I bought my house.  Her parting words with it were, “enjoy and I’ll let you decide which stuffed animals to get rid of.”  Oh god the task!  Those things were our prized joy as children.  I still have my teddy bear and soft rabbit, both that I’d carry with me everywhere when I was wee.  When I actually had my own bed in Seattle, I’d sleep cuddle up with my bear and even if I was dating anyone, whomever it was, would always manage to snag it at some point and snuggle with teddy.  So you can say my sisters and I really dug our stuffed animals and we had TONS!  I opened the chest and there, staring at me, was the smiling plane.  I obviously made that a keeper, along with a few other items, that would share space with my linens.  Every so often, if it wasn’t piled high with all my unopened mail and stack of NSCA magazines, as I walked out of my bathroom, I’d open the chest, pull out the plane and turn the knob and just close my eyes and listen.  It’s a weird happy sad I get every time I hear that song that I really can’t describe except for that, it’s happy sad.  I’m glad I kept it, not that there was ever any question, but Jacqui and Jamie would both occasionally ask if we still had it.  After Jamie delivered our family’s first son/grandson/nephew, I grabbed the plane and gave it to Matthias and Jamie was so happy and when Jacqui finally arrived, we listened to it and like always, we all teared up.  God we’re a bunch of emotional sappy asses!

Why am I saying all this?  Well, that trumpet, somewhere on the dirt and dust filled street below me in Arambol, Goa, was playing this song while I was focusing on my Anahata Chakra, again, during Vijay’s chanting.  At first I saw color again and then I went somewhere, lots of places.  I went to the plane first and the memories I have a Papa and all of a sudden I went through, in the most vivid images ever, of the first meetings of each of my 3 best friends and the one and only woman I have, so far, loved and been in love with unconditionally.  I was back on the Hill with Josh as we and brace face Tamme T and other friends gallivanted around Broadway on a cloudy day.   Sitting in Jenner’s car, I turned around and looked at a baby faced James who wouldn’t stop playing with his god damn labret piercing on the way to the Y2K party in bumfuck Washington.  I was chilling in the sun on Waterfront Park listening to house as pig tail sportin Kuddlebear Shannon was introduced to my jaded junglist self and I was wasted outside the Rose as I saw Danger’s blue eyes and one dimple for the first time, which I proceeded to poke incessantly the duration of the long evening that stretched into morning.  I couldn’t control my mind, I didn’t even try so I was failing miserably at meditation but I was ok with it.  As the trumpet kept tooting and my focus remained on my heart chakra these images just flowed and then I could feel a tear, I’m going to assume a happy one, roll down my cheek and I hadn’t even noticed the emotions and the manifestations of those emerging from my body until I felt the tear.  The chanting ended, my toes and fingers were wriggled and I had to hurry up to shower before our philosophy class so I hadn’t quite come to yet.  The feeling I had wasn’t quite a yoga bliss because with each step I took I felt like Big Foot slothing through the forest, one monster step at a time, but my leg movement felt effortless through the air as I made my way down the stairs, dodged scooters and across the street to my guest house.  The happy/sad feeling had left me feeling light and heavy, all at the same time.  I told Jade of my experience and she squealed (not really squealed, she doesn’t squeal) “oh how wonderful!  A detoxing moment!  Just let the tears flooow!”  “Jade, I’m not sad, it was quite a peaceful and happy feeling of contentment.”

I’m not sure what to make of it but for some time at dinner, as I sat by myself with my toes digging into the sand, the whisper of the ocean waves in the background, my Kindle open and ready to be read, I just stared at the slightest of crescent moons, staring and wondering if this is the same moon the loves in my life will see tomorrow when the sun goes down and moon rises.

On a different note, it’s really hard to concentrate on my breath and body position during Hatha when I want to rip the clothes off the girl next to me, not that there’s much to rip off...

XXXOX,

Dirty