Friday Moonday.

“Thoreau died in 1862.  When a friend asked him on his deathbed if he had made his peace with God, he responded, more like a Zen master than a Transcendentalist, that he was not aware they had quarreled.”

1865 John Wiess said of Thoreau
“His countenance had not a line upon it expressive of ambition or discontent; the affectional emotions had not fretted at it.  He went about like a priest of Buddha who expects to arrive soon at the summit of a life of contemplation.”


All these practices to create space, to cultivate the inner field of consciousness.  Developing the ability to see the self in the moment, this is why I sat down today.  I sat and listened to Sarah Powers.  When I sit like this I hear one of the voices inside saying that i should be doing some more challenging type of meditation.  Now, I am able to meet theses voices inside with awareness of their prescience, compassion, and no desire to make them stop. I have learned how to smile and love myself.  At the last retreat with Tenzin Thuman he said “First step on the path to realizing your potential... Learning to love yourself in a really special way.”  How much space is there in that! Not first step to enlightenment just the first step to seeing possibility.  This is mostly all I need, just a step. A point in the direction of seeing through the shit and happening upon the little ray of sunshine as it peeks over the top of the mountain, you get a glimpse that there is infact a path.

I love “summit of a life of contemplation”  again let off the hook of having to know anything.  That this life is contemplation, that I don’t have to come to any conclusions, I can just be curious.  That reading, sitting, asana, yamas & niyamas, they can all lead to a greater desire to understand.  That a personal belief system can be fluid.  

As I continue to observe what happens when I try to cultivate the place inside to hold death I am inspired by so many lives.  To look at how others have lived in their pursuit to understand what this life is, to live and die in the lucid way Sarah talks about.  I look for my Walden Pond in Brooklyn.  In this space shared with so many.  Constantly negotiating with masses of people and seeing how I can best show up for these sentient beings.  I admit it escapes me most of the time, how to look after oneself and hold space of others to see themselves and grow.  But I do see some hope and I have learned better how to take mindful breaths and check with my inside world when things in the outside world seem to be going crazy.  To take some time and see the inner climate and motivations before I take action.  Some freedom is there.

“Depend upon it that, rude and careless as I am, I would fain practice the yoga faithfully,” he (Thoreau) wrote H.G.O. Blake in 1849. “To some extent, and at rare intervals, even I am a yogi.”



All quotes taken from “How the Swans Came to the Lake”.

If I’m butter then he’s a hot knife…

Sometimes writing should be about nothing.  Sometimes life is about nothing, maybe it should be more about butterflies and less about lies.  What if I never left the naked hippie house on the Able Tasman Sea?  What if I had stayed with that boy who was certainly gay?  Perhaps more writing would have been about Eddie who always wore a belt only.  Maybe I would have continued to eat my weight in avocados and dance down the dirt road to our house with a glass of wine.  They tried to tell me that the emergency break was a part of driving, I went 3 months with out ever putting on shoes and we always picked up the hitchhikers. Made balloon toys and sold them at the market to buy food the food we would eat at the dinner where we laughed so hard my stomach hurt with joy.  There were 5 of us in that house and I never forget a moment of it. I was a hitchhiker on the North Island, rode 4 hours with a sheep sheerer down to Auckland.  If I had speakers right now hey would be all the way up screaming “WAKE ME UP”, I may need a chaperone.  Some things give me flight, so many people here seem to be a flight doing what they love.  Should only the artists who make millions be permitted to paint all day? How important is passion?  What happens when the passion of the heart dies long before the physical body?  A question I hope never to experience the answer.

“Take me to Coney Island take me on a train.”

Now I will spend my winter at the Village Zendo instead of South India.  I can not imagine the new challenges the new changes.  A front row seat for death.  I may write a book after this one.

Happy Moonday everybody.

The photo was our shower at the dancing avocado house of love...

Happy Birthday!

A year ago today I was in Calcutta and had the most amazing birthday with new friends and one phone call that I thought might make my heart burst. I knew life was full of possibility. This morning I look around my beautiful apt, windows opening and some possibility seems to be blowing in again. My friend sent me timeshel by mumford & sons for my birthday, so this is playing in the background , Calgary is here too.

I put an extra teaspoon of honey in my tea just now, and I will wear my Channel lip gloss today.

I have always loved birthdays, mine and everyone else’s. This year I was a bit quiet but usually for the weeks leading up to it I can’t talk about much else. My funk seems to have lifted this morning. It’s hard to be in a funk with so many amazing people around loving me.

Just finished my coconut water and breakfast with an amazing friend is soon. There is a tremendous amount of possibilities for today, tomorrow as well.

This is a teeny tiny blog but I just wanted to share my morning with everyone since everyone shares so much with me.

More tea please, more of this amazing life.

Thank you.

40 hours

It’s been about 20 days that I have been here, now, this time. It’s been about 7 hours since my last asana practice. It took somewhere over 40 hours to get back here from Mysore. Now I think maybe 40 is better then 24. Perhaps the total waste I felt gave some gravity to the situation, to the truth of the length of the destination.

This Ted talk said if you want to change your life you have to tell the truth. To stop saying you are fine all the time. I say I am fine all the time, especially when I am not. I don’t like to bother or burden or give too much of myself to the negative. I see now that this is not the way forward. Not only can no one help you but they can not know you either. I saw this with my family and yoga. Giving them vague answers to questions so I would not bore them with the details, except that the details were me. By not sharing I held myself away, then I stopped. They have now stopped asking why I go to Mysore so much, they understand it, as to say they understand me. We love better now. There are many places to go with this but it is late, feels sometimes too late.

Maybe we can love better now.

Saying what is really happening forces me look at my situation clearly, many times a day. I can see how this brings change, I don’t want to keep saying the same shit for the next five years. If I say that I am fine I never have to hear the truth either.

In three days on the 23 I turn 32. First time my birthday has ever felt like this, like I have missed the mark on something. It is very much not a husband kids thing, this has never been a measuring stick of mine.

There is the most amazing breeze coming in my window right now.

My friend and I sat at the park today and talked about balance. About the discipline of practice and keeping life limber as well.

For 9 years I was vegetarian and one time for one year I was vegan this resulted in an extra 7 pounds. Now I am a dietary independent. Now I eat whatever I want. Some flexibility has come from all this asana after all.

So much love.

I believe her smile when she gives it to me. We step past each other and our eyes meet, we let each other in. For once I am not scanned up and down for whatever about me is offending that day. Sometimes here it feels as though I am offending them every minute of everyday. I could explain that having your middle area exposed would be offensive in my culture, but they have not come to my country.

It’s a sunny about 85 degree afternoon in what is said to be the coldest winter in 17 years. I have been up since 3 this morning and it is taking all the arm strength I have left to type. I have never known this kind if burn. I have been assisting in the Shala for 3 weeks now and it gets better everyday. Another guy got booted today, beginners are supposed to be with Saraswati down the road but everyone thinks they know Ashtanga Yoga. One girl yesterday attempted to take the first pose of second with out being given it and as if this were not bad enough she then could not stand up from a backbend. With Sharath standing over her she looked pretty frightened as he said, “Who is your teacher? (no response) who taught you second without backbends? (again no response) Who is your teacher?!? (I will not repeat the name). I keep meaning to count how many students are in the room at one time but always forget, did count how many sputa kurmasana adjustments I gave today, about 30. During the 9:30-11:30/12 time there is Sharath, Saraswati, 4 other assistants and myself. Yesterday we got sweets “for all your hard work today” he says, I smile. It is so amazing to teach along side of the Guru of the tradition, his is the only opinion that matters. There is no wondering what is correct or debating the best way, only standing firmly connected to roots of the tradition I grew up in/am growing up in. The tradition I now have the blessing to teach. After I finish in the shala I can barely hold my bottle of water to my mouth. I have never been one to stand with my hands on my hips but do it all the time now as they cannot hold themselves. I still can not believe that I get to be a part of someone’s Mysore experience, that I get to stand next to my Guru as we both drop people back, crazy.

My back is doing so much better, I spend at least 3 hours a day doing rehab. And just today, only 6 weeks in, found a better way to sit as I wait to be called into the Shala. Speaking of the waiting room, I have the most fantastic group that I wait with. So many kind smiling faces, people I am happy to get to spend a few moments with so early in the morning. We all wait our turn, entering in the order we arrived. It very much feels like we are in it together.

This is all for now I must go get dressed as we are going to check the timings at the cinema for the weekend. Then to the park to hang up side down for some time. Then to the internet to send this to you. x

writing after 3 green tea lattes.

Most Sundays here Sharath holds conference. He will talk a bit as we listen and laugh then there is a time for questions. Beware if you ask a question though, you may get more then you wanted back. He might explain why we do so many asanas “1^st practice asana to stabilize body and mind. Without this how can yoga happen? For that (yoga) you need to discipline this body and mind.”

We take asana so yoga can happen, Sharath says. It reminds me of something I read perhaps in Shadows on the path “you can use a stick to point at the moon but don’t confuse the stick with the moon.” For me asana is very much the stick. I genuinely do not give a shit what someone who sees my practice thinks. First they must not be minding their dristi and second it’s the stick, for real people.

I take asana so that I can see my shit more clearly, in that book he (abdi assadi) says one of my very favorite things “you can not clean your face by splashing water at the mirror”. I sit still so I can observe what is happening inside so I don’t get confused and blame those around me for my crazy. When the asana talk becomes too much I have to sit and observe what about this steals my om shanti and how I can have more compassion (first for myself then for others). I work hard, I am not lazy and would be very disappointed if the whole reason that I stand on my head is to be able to stand on my head.

I believe that through the asana practice I am cultivating equanimity. That a sign this asana practice is changing me is that as I am able to do things I was not before there is no disturbance inside. It’s abiding in the deep-rooted joy, the knowing we all have a buddha nature. I give my very best to the practice but believe that would be of little value if I were not giving my best at seeing child who needs love in every person I stand in front of. Also the one inside me.

If you do not take practice it is hard to explain how asana brings about these changes, it is an experiential understanding. “Asana is the foundation of spiritual building” Sharath tells us. You need “devotion, dedication, discipline, determination”.

Last Week

As far as weeks go this has been a pretty eventful one. There was one years back that may have been as good but outside of that there is only this.

Last Saturday I went in for my first ever MRI, a loud and strange 40 min. Went and had a few coconuts then back for the films, 5 films and I got them all. They gave me a paper with the results and one doctor explained a bit to me. I thought there was some sort of problem between L4 and L5, and there it was on film the disc is out to the left pressing up against the nerve root. This would explain perhaps why putting my left leg behind my head sends electricity up the spine. Some pain is there in most poses but with full awareness I have signed up for what it has to teach me. Some friends have been very helpful sharing wisdom of how to work more intelligently in the body. I am learning many new things about myself, more softness is there.

Then came Sunday when Sharath gave me the application for authorization. I looked at Lauren with a bit of wonderment. I could see we both were wondering, if this was the type of application that can get rejected or that by receiving it you are accepted kind. I filled it out and took it back to him and he printed out another sheet of paper that assured me I was in. Lauren said, “you can totally cry now” so I sat down on the steps of the shala and had a moment. For those of you unfamiliar with traditional Ashtanga this is not at all the sort of paper you get after a one-month “teacher training”. It is really very very different, but that is all I will say about that.

On Tuesday Sharath said that I could assist in the shala next year, as there are already too many people here who have not got to yet. I said I was very happy to do it next year. Then he said my certificate would be ready Thursday afternoon.

Thursday morning when I had taken my spot and was about to begin my practice he came over to my mat and said to come back at 9:30 and assist, “today” I said “today” he said. My practice was a bit scattered really then I quickly poked out for a coco and back in at 9:30 for the scariest 2 hours of teaching in my life.

Friday was the led class and everyone kept giving my hugs. I saw so many friends that day and I think they were all as excited as I was/am.

There is one thing on the certificate that stands out for me. Around the middle of the page it says, “I authorize my student” then my name then his signature.

Saturday

I don’t mind the smell of burning garbage as it comes in through my bedroom window this amazing Saturday morning. I can hear horns, birds singing, a train whistling, a scooter rolling past, someone sweeping, a men shouting what he is selling as he walks down the street, down my street 2a or 1a if you come from the other side.

Water boils very quickly here.

Lauren and I spend the afternoon like cats, napping and reading. I read on emptiness while she learns more about how our bodies work. Both very interested in under the obvious, or the naïve nature HHDL might say.

Sharath says I need “more force”. When I mention this to Susan before led she says, “You do look pretty relaxed”.

I wonder why my house does not have any water.

Saturday in Mysore. Yogis fill this little neighborhood and I ended up in a group of them last night and was up well past my bedtime. We talked about the last year of our lives and the things we don’t understand about this place. No asana practice today but many other things to work on no doubt.

The first two weeks here have had their challenges. Some tears have come some pains have increased. The pain is not wasted I feel the layers being pealed/pulled/ripped away, some rawness is exposed. I do believe in it as a vehicle for growth, something to slow me down and bring great awareness to single points. I move more mindfully now and try to “hold the hell out my bandhas” as Tim said (along with many other helpful things).

Yesterday was my first practice ever on the stage. Just in case your reading this and you have not been here before the stage is obviously in the front but in this practice you are always looking different ways, mainly down your nose, so the front is not really a front. What does happen though is Sharath ends up sitting very close during most of the practice. So every updog there he is, I can hear clearly everything he says, and I hope a bit of the magic falls onto me. As I write this I can hear my friends from last night laughing at me. I would not say that I worship him and I do no pretend to have any sort relationship with his children. I did however feel like the luckiest person in the world to be practicing next to his chair.

January 1

Never been too much of a new years person, don’t think there has ever been a resolution. Yesterday I sat at the kitchen table and started to list all of the things that were new in the last year. The list was crazy long. There were some small items and some pretty big ones, moving to a big new city in my old country and becoming part of a new country. Seems amazing looking back. There were also some cute ones like finally learning how to do my hair and what colors to wear on my face, I think this comes with moving to NYC. So many new friends, some new kinds of pain, and one retreat in California that changed the game completely.

As always I can only write from my experience and this one is so new also my understanding so small…

I sit with many hours on the clock to find the words to share with you this experience that for me is beyond language. So lets start in Cali and see what comes of it.

I first went to Big Sur with my mom, Phil, and Ali maybe 10 years ago. I had never seen or felt anything like, it so much love and healing was there. I have been back may times since then and every time the energy of the place has healed something inside me, it is the only place in the world I say this about. I wanted to go back and was looking at the schedule at Esalen when I saw Richard Freeman’s name. I did not need much more then this but when I read the retreat was in silence I was in. I booked immediately and bought my plane ticket right then. OK so I did not know any of the other teachers or really what was going to happen but I figured a week in Big Sur would be amazing.

A few months & one long plane ride later I was walking around Monterey breathing in the other ocean’s air and feeling pretty fucking happy. I met Shelly and the others in the van on the way down the coast and not one of them was going with Richard as their main interest. At this point I start asking about the other teachers (I had not even goggled them) and everyone started in with these stories about how amazing they are.

4 teachers & we had each 1x a day

we were split into 2 groups depending on length of practice

silence except question time just before dinner

1 question time with each teacher over the week

retreat title “Yoga and Buddhism”

Teachers: Richard Freeman, Sarah Powers, Tias Little, Patricia Sullivan

The first and biggest impression that was made on me was the compassion and love these teachers had for all of us. I had never seen Buddhism embodied in this way. This was not your typical “I have to do what’s best for me in this moment” while I shit on everyone else, kind of spirituality. There was not the exclusivity with the air of superiority I had seen in other spiritual circles. Some pure love was there and I was intrigued to say the very least.

After the first class with Sarah my life was changed and there was no going back. There was however question time. I explained that have some grounded practices in my life that bring tremendous benefit but I still end up in these moments where I feel like my brain/self/something has been hijacked and I can not behave in the way that I know my true self wants to. It is in these moments that I like I have no control and no idea what to do about it. For me it was mostly around food and patience. I felt very vulnerable/embarrassed asking this question to someone I did not know in a room full of people who did not know me. Sarah smiled a smile that felt like a hug and said “has anyone else ever felt that way?” every hand in the room went up and I was no longer alone. She went on to explain the mindfulness practices, what they do, and how to practice them. I have been practicing them daily, many times a day, since that moment.

The silence allows things to work their way up maybe even work it out but certainly there is benefit that comes from not speaking all the time. In talking I solidify my stories so much so that I believe them. In silence I am able to observe the rising and passing of thoughts, emotions, beliefs…

One evening after Tias’s Dharma talk I asked about faith. I don’t understand faith within a practice where there is no God. I asked if he could possibly mention it tomorrow. He paused a moment and then said “start by having faith in your life”. I sat with it that night and then again alone in the mineral baths at 4 the next morning. As I watched the white of the waves, the electric shine of the shooting starts, and ran my fingers back and forth over the wet rocks something shifted. An understanding sank deep inside me that I have no language to explain, it just was. It very very much was and it is as I sit here now.

I soaked up every moment of that week. I allowed every Dharma talk way in, every sitting or moving practice I was present for in a new way.

I cannot explain Buddhism to you, or the mindfulness practices, I am not a meditation teacher. I can recommend books like Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach or A policy of Kindness by the Dalai Lama. I can express my deepest gratitude to these teachers who have shown so much light into my life, into my heart. I can feel my bandwidth of inclusively and compassion growing. I have a very strong/sweet interest in cultivating Bodhicitta.

I am so blessed to have this time now in Mysore not only to practice Ashtanga Yoga with my teacher and this amazing community of practitioners but also to sit. I read some things then I sit with them. I talk a little, being mindful with my words and sit with that too. My low back (between L4&L5 & QLs) is screaming pretty loud so I sit with it and all it brings up. Last night I sat with Simon and we drink our New Years Eve tea and spoke of the past year of our lives.

I made no resolution this morning just read from “Essence of the Heart Sutra” the Dalai Lama’s heart of wisdom teachings and then sat for some time.

Day 1

Words sometimes run out my mouth, “the truth falls out before you can catch it sometimes” Liza tells me.

As I sat this morning before asana practice I could feel the expectations burning a bit in the chest. I could feel the vibration from the work, the building of the walls of my construct of inadequacy. As the thoughts, the words run across the brain, burned over the chest, and settled nicely in the lumbar spine I quietly observed.

The travel to India to this small town was easy, the friend who met me at the gate was warm. She made me tea and offered a place to sleep. Why it is in life I am constantly gifted these friends, these sentient beings who love and nurture me--I will never understand, I suppose. It is not lost on me, not taken for granted in my heart or heavy head as I lay it down in the hands the feet of grace.

NYC offered the most beautiful send off. My last week was filled with love, support, and dancing. It was the first time I was ever a bit sad to be going to India, almost (almost) not wanting to go. To know she is there waiting for me makes me smile as I lay in the sun and read my books.

Trying not to eat before practice today was a bit much and by the time I made it to backbending some nausea was there. There are so many in the Shala so many practicing and Sharath was there till the end. I was gifted a warm smile and the chance to say thank you to my teacher. This chance, a moment to express my gratitude calms a bit the crazy inside.

There was a coconut after practice and some kind words with a friend I have not seen since last year. Kelly meets me and we walk for fruit and spices. We are making another batch of brown rice, cardamom, almond, vanilla and some other things milk. I have a fruit salad for breakfast followed by homemade chai. At this point there seems nothing more important to do then lay in the sun and read about mindfulness practices.

These practices, the mindfulness ones, have changed everything for me. Really everything. This is coming next writing…

Now I need to get Kelly out of the sun so we can make grape and fig smoothies.

I leave you with this for today, my first practice day in the room whose sweetness is matched by no other.

first public poem.

So i spaced this as best i could to give you an idea of how it is meant to be read, it's more meant to be heard than read but I am not ready to vlog yet.

I have been flirting with this idea, concept, and openness for sometime now.

No committed relationship, nothing to go public with, a bit on the underside,

my own side side.

I heard this word some time ago and have been rolling around in it ever since.

Tensegrity.

I have read the anatomy trains ideas about it the architectural explanations of it, then I dropped them to come up with my own meanings for someone else’s word. I don’t think you’re allowed to do that.

Moving floating integrity,

changing adapting humanity,

open and willing vulnerability,

“never not broken” solidarity, and a shoulder to cry on. I am quite sure you cannot do that.

I don’t suppose you ever come out the other side of something the same person who went in, I suppose it would be a waste if you did.

She wrote “Om Shanti to the dust”. I looked around and saw many gatherings of dust that need a little Om Shanti, so I applied it.

To look at this new person,

this not waiting anymore for old person to show up new person.

To float in this support, this moveable free feeling, laugh a bit because the shit of life is sort of funny

open feeling.

So I give a silent moment in honor of this passion, these transgressions, and that great mountain that I

did not die on.

Om Shanti to the dust...

Summer

I went to the beach here for the first time on the Friday before the 4^th of July. It was my first 4^th in the US in many years, I felt American. We swam and lay in the sun, ate bagels, and rode our bikes home. It was a perfect Friday. Saturday we went to the Hotel Chelsea, because it’s the Hotel Chelsea. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hotel_Chelsea

So many amazing creative things happened there, it was like sleeping in a museum. We spent the weekend in Manhattan because we could, saw shows and eat our way around the little island. The weekend rounded out with staying up all night and getting a hug from Amma. It was a perfect NY weekend, I still cannot believe I get to live here.

I have been apt hunting and it is some form of hell. It’s hard to find a space in this overly full place. I look inside and see if there is space there, if I am seeing this inside outside mirror. Is the cost higher inside then it is for me out there? Can I see what I want or is my mom a bit more right then I realize when she tells me I want it all… It seems I am as blessed here as I have ever been with good friends, strong souls who support me when I am quite beyond my depth.

Stacy told me to have an espresso today so I could wake up, she tells me a lot of things I find quite true. She asks me if my choices are going to lead me to be all I can be tomorrow, not for others but for me.

I have been able to see so many friends as they pass through, as we stick together. It makes the world seem small, intimate. My world here is small. I wake up, practice, teach, eat, nap, chat, teach, eat, read, and go to bed. Elizabeth takes me on adventures. We cross the water (go to Manhattan), drive to the beach, she even took me to Yale. I love adventures and I love NY. She has her rainy days, I was told she tries to push you out to be sure you deserve to stay. This I understand. It has been hot here, like summers I remember from Michigan, I love summer. There is a culture to it, a go out dancing till 4 and walk home and be warm thing to it. A warm down to your bones softness to it, a soften kapotasana opening to it. It makes me feel safe.

I have been invited to take the oath of citizenship for Canada. Patriotism expanded. I am so pleased to have another country, to have been adopted, to be Canadian. I am told the ceremony is quiet moving, some tears are coming. My tears come more easily now, progress, intimacy expanded.

So many things happen here and I need to write more of them down to share, life seems to happen faster now. I love Brooklyn. I feel as at home here as I have anywhere. I miss the mountains some days but for this time my view, my new fire escape to climb down is good for me (and by good I mean pretty fucking fantastic). I get to live here.

Brooklyn, a love story.

Brooklyn, a love story.

It began the same as many great romances, a warm evening….. Love at first sight. I am a born romantic, I love simple love stories. I arrived here one month ago and so I suppose this must still be in the infatuation stage. I look around everyday waiting for the striking beauty to loose its effect. When I think I may get comfortable with the beauty we go to Dumbo (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dumbo,_Brooklyn) for dinner and I see the Brooklyn Bridge, Statue of Liberty, and cobble stone streets. I buy a pineapple. My neighborhood is Williamsburg (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Williamsburg,_Brooklyn) mainly known for being where artists live. Like everything this is changing, the rents are going up and artists have to move further out, I love it here. On my way home from the J, the train I take to Soho, I walk through what seems to be Puerto Rico. When I go to the back to deposit the rent check in my landlords account I am the only non Hasidic Jew in the place. Out my door you hear Spanish, out my window you can hear the train, you can see the East River. Walk down Bedford Ave and you can get whatever you like, it’s all here. I had vegan pizza and a vegan doughnut delivered last night, best ladies holiday ever. This love keeps growing.

I started teaching yoga again last week and this week took over Ashtanga Yoga Brooklyn from the amazing Elise Espat. She is moving on to her next adventure and mine is just beginning here, and thanks to some mutual friends we found each other. I have a whole 2-minute commute to work. I bought my first rode bike, it weighs less then my yoga mat, we too are in love.

There are so many amazing things around each corner, literally each corner. One thing is the CSA, I will be getting my fruit and veggies directly from the farm for the next 22 weeks. We pay first so the farm can do what they need to do and then every Wednesday my food is delivered. The pick up spot is one block from my work, all my veggies are grown in NY. I am growing in NY.

I practice now before I teach. I get up at 4am and make my way to the studio on my bike. I am alone, feeling so alone and so connected. It feels like a different practice, like something greater has been tapped into. It is a different practice. I have had to look deeper to see the truth of it for myself. I feel so blessed. Elise and I talked about the strength that comes from this sort of practice, gifts hand delivered discipline. I am sad she is leaving, the students in Albuquerque have some karma. I think of Kino practicing in her parent’s garage, Emily riding her bike in the middle of winter, seeing Harmony and Jeff at the Shala in -30 weather, of Sharath up in the night practicing. I have so much inspiration to draw from, thank you.

I have heard it said many different ways, this idea that if you have the courage to do what it is that you really want that something greater comes along to help you. I don’t know if it’s something outside or deep within but it has certainly come together here better then I ever could have imagined. I do not suppose it matters what it is so much, I will accept my gifts with gratitude and be thankful I am given opportunities to pass it along.

NYC makes me smile.

My first morning in New York I thought I would see how many smiles I could give out, before I did not get one back. That was a week ago and still every smile has come back, some with a “good morning”. There was one moment on the subway when I thought my smile might have been a bit much but it all worked out.

It has been a dream of mine for some time to move to this city to experience this energy. I walk up the stairs onto the street and a bit of my breath is taken away by the beauty. In spring it is easy to be carried along, there is a warm breeze here, and gentle sun. I seem to have been given many soft landings after big jumps. The city is no less amazing then I imagined it to be, it may be even a bit better. Eddie’s room feels very calm with much focus. I do not feel a need to push but there is an expectation in the air that you are doing your best. There is a mini retreat with Eddie and his wife next weekend, I am so glad I made it here in time.

My roommate is so lovely. She could not be any more understanding of me being a vegan and how that plays out in our kitchen. Her parents are visiting at the moment and I notice how much I enjoy having more people around. I think I used to need more alone time and now I find more joy with many people around. There were always people around when I was growing up, I see now the more childish joys returning.

I feel very simple and calm in this big city. I feel a spring season happening inside as well as out. I understand the settling of India into a sheet of underlining compassion. Once again I have been given more blessings then I know what to do with, so I will do my best to pass them on.

If you want mangoes...

Carolina says “you’re not going to get mangoes from an apple tree, if you want mangoes plant a mango tree”. I smile because I feel so connected to her in this understanding, this optimism… So much choice.

We watch Sex in The City 2, really just to see the girls and NYC. We talk about men, mostly what we think it means to be a man. We are four women. Over pizza Dana says she wants to be a good role model, and I think I hope to be like her when I am that age, not that I am far off. Pizza brings up relationships too and I am inspired by those who work hard but can see my energy for this is low. Rachel opened her home to me in a way that made feel completely at home, my friend karma is over the top.

From the top I can see the other side, more so I can feel the other side. I feel on the other side. I feel at home here in the beautiful bedroom listening to the children in the bathroom, they have been in there for some time. Sometimes I have wondered what these last years have been about, what this confusion has been about. I have the feeling of taking rest after the practice. You can take rest anytime but it never feels so good as after you have done your full practice. The peace, the gentle buzz that comes over the body, the feelings of floating off the earth, for me these are the sensations of taking rest. I feel as though the last 4 years have been this amazing, long, challenging, rewarding, and expanding practice. Now I feel the buzz of rest, the gentle lift from below. After the work of India and the closing of a chapter in Calgary I can feel the center of my center, I can see what I want. While desirelessness is something to move toward it can feel very refreshing to have desires, to want, to move about. I love Calgary and am happy to have had the chance to live there and be saved by friends there so many times. Leaving I had only to regret that I did not plan the visit for longer but this is a pattern I see clearly inside myself. I must also say that I really really loved by bike and smile so big when I think so cute Em riding around town on it. Everyday I receive more love then I give and this inspires me to be more loving and generous with my smile.

I will spend another week in MI then on to the next chapter, the next season of this amazing life.

Thank you I love you.

Peace

My alarm went off at 4:30 this morning, same as every other day but different. This morning when I heard the alarm by body jumped with panic and I noticed I was crying. I went to the washroom and got dressed for yoga, there were still some tears when I left the house at 5 (or is it five? Lauren would know). I spent much of the weekend on the tele talking with old friends, remembering how soothing that can be how quickly people take you in.

When I was in Purple Valley (or is it Purple Heaven? Tim would know), I had the amazing opportunity to teach with Kino and Tim. I adjusted after my practice during the retreat and it was a blessing on top of a blessing, sort of like the sautéed pineapple I had on top of my coconut bliss last night. I was able to reconnect to teaching yoga but in a backseat sort of way. It be able to assist is someone else’s room, for me, in that moment, was perfect. I love to teach yoga to share what has given so much, I am just not sure how yet. Tomorrow I will teach my brother and sister-in-law, this makes me smile.

I have been back in MI for a week and a half and my body now knows the night from the day. I have been taken care of in the way that my truly amazing family does, and again I learn how to receive. I have been studying with Matthew Darling and loving every moment. I have never heard anyone sound so much like Guruji when leading the opening mantra, so firm and calming. I still stretch before practice and take a block for back bending, this is when Matthew tells me to “lay an egg”. I am constantly being remimded to “keep my heart open and look forward”, this is something I love to hear.

I am beginning to understand that tears are the way I let go. I know that yoga brings it up, and then my shit has a tendency of getting stuck. It sticks in my chest until the tears are ready to carry it out. There has been much anxiety present about ending my time in Calgary. There are so many things I will miss about living there, the mountains and the fresh air will remain a part of me. I already miss walking with great people in the wild of Alberta. I have always said that Calgary makes up for the cold weather by having the warmest people. I cannot say enough about the yoga community. People are so supportive and really take care of each other, I am sad to be leaving this behind. I know that what ever is next in life will be a needed challenge but it is hard to imagine a more genuine community then the one I have been so blessed to be a part of for the last years. It feels strange to be closing this chapter and not knowing what the next will be, this too is a big part of the challenge. There are also my pool friends, more fun than I will write here. I know that there are great people everywhere but in this moment I feel really lucky to have spent the last few years with the ones in Calgary. I learn more each day about shifting perspective and allowing gratitude to bring peace.

It would be a lie to say I have no regrets in life but I never regret telling the truth. I tell more of the truth to myself everyday, perhaps in time this will allow things to move through with out so much resistance.

Today I will stand back and see what my karma is, just the way I watch yours.

I will be in Calgary for a week and then back to Michigan to decide where to spend the summer….

Last 2 written in India.

Kulkata has amazing water. I bought a shirt today with a peace sign on it, because orange is a color I never like to wear. Recently I acquired one stomach bug and spent many hours on the floor with a bucket. I sit down as unsure where this is going as where I am going and with as little worry. This city holds unto its crumbling builds in a way I don’t dare hang onto you. Maybe for fear of the same crumbling or perhaps because it’s beautiful to watch you fall. I have rented this room that feels more like a cocoon for me to rest in, to let all this settle in. To let you settle in. There are four more days left in this trip and then everything will be clean again. I will open my mouth in the shower and not do bug check before bed. No one will talk to me as I walk down the street and it is unlikely that a very poor young boy will buy me tea. There will be comfortable couches and situations that are easy to be kind in, I will again put on a seatbelt. I am so very happy to be going home, to arrive in America. My blessings are too many to mention the small kindness I receive everyday. At the Kali temple to day the Brahmin priest prayed for good jobs for my brothers, good health for my parents, and said there is a very good husband coming for me. (3/21/11)

I am in the airport now and in one hour will board my flight to Bangalore. My taxi ride was nothing short of perfect. Traffic here moves slowly and I was able to take it all in. This is my favorite Indian city and we drove through much of it tonight. My heart was bursting with gratitude and I just keep whispering thank you, thank you, thank you. She took me in and let me heal here for some time. I wonder sometimes about reincarnation and maybe if we all take turns. I made friends with some henna ladies, they called me sister and I them if felt very real. One of them kissed me on the check when I left and it was magic, I miss them already. I wonder if we take turns being the one on the street and the one with the visa card? If they teach me now and later I will be drawing with the henna? To have this time, to think about my life and what I want is a very special gift. I am happy to be going back to Michigan tomorrow and spend time with my family. I will drink from the tap and drive on the wrong side of the road, there are rumors of snow but this is too much to consider now. (3/25/11)

Shiva runs this town.

This morning I sat on the bank of the Ganga watching the burning ghat. My phone rang and it was a very dear very old friend. I sat and we talked. We spoke of fire, letting the burning bodies in, god, and apples. As I watched a new body being laid on the fire I felt the anxiety in my chest begin to soften. Our decisions are not so important.

Yesterday at brunch we talked about Ashtanga, Vipassana, and how physical pain makes us better- allows us to move through. We believed in that moment that nothing is an accident, that if we are open to it each experience each person has so much to teach us.

I have been wandering these alleys these tiny streets the way I hope to wander the inner workings of myself. To walk with open eyes, so much wonder and curiosity. Yesterday was magic, this morning has already shown me a new depth of suffering and the hope that lives just inside. I feel the moments when I push back when I run into myself more quickly now. The subtle becomes more obvious. “Don’t worry,” I said “I am taking it in for you”. He said he could feel it, feel the Divine Mother. I go now for some chai and then we are off to Sarnath.

Sarnath is where the Buddha gave his first speech after enlightenment, about 1 hour from my guesthouse. The burning ghat is directly next to my guesthouse. On my train here I had a dream about chocolate and when I woke a man walked by and said “Cadbury chocolate?” India also gives chocolate. Sitting beside the Ganga watching the bodies burn I feel very looked after, when you know how it ends its not so scary anymore.

Om Nama Shivia

" I was in Indonesia having sugery without anesthesia, really it was crazy" from stories over lunch today.

If you have a thing for grammar this will pain your heart and I do not recommend going further. There is much India English. It was all I could do to be in Benares and sit still long enough to type this, but it was a story that begged to be told. Purple Valley story to come next.

I left Purple Heaven at 4pm on the 13^th of March 2011. I was on the back of Lauren’s scooter while Benj rode next to us carrying my rucksack on his back. We arrived in Mapusa and did some very quick goodbyes. It was so hard for me to leave Lauren as she has been and is a vital ingredient in my daily life. I walked over to the small shop beside the bus station to recharge my Airtel sim card. The guy does the deal and as he calls it in my phone says sim registration failed, phone calls finished. I sprint over to the Airtel office, as forever I am early. She says I have broken my sim and need to buy a new one and it will work in 4 hours time. We do the paper work I pay and till this moment the new sim does not work. Phone finished.

I go back to the bus station and get on the Panjim express for 10 rupees, boredom arises from lack of texting. Also feeling a bit apprehensive as I have a waitlisted ticket from Mumbai to Varanasi. From Panjim I take the Margoa express and then a local bus to the train station. The train is lovely and in 3 AC I have a side birth upper confirmed and the man at the counter assures me by morning I will have a confirmed ticket out of Mumbai. I get on the train and have a restful sleep dreaming about Varanasi.

As I walk down the train platform in Mumbai heading toward the station a long haired tanned skin man approaches me and says I look like a oasis is the madness of Mumbai, I tell god she can not possibly be serious it is only 7:30 in the morning. Anthony is Quebecois and looking for coins for the children. Now there are many children following him who is now following me. He has not enough change so we stop at a food cart where he tells me “all gods children must eat” he has a point so I wait. This takes some time. After the children have eaten we walk through a field of garbage and over one half wall. On a dirt path there are some food stalls, we sit down at one place that it turns out literally has nothing and the man walks us to a friends place that has “clean and good” food. I order masala dosa and a chai. Anthony says the 18 rupee idly is too expensive and orders a chai. His idly promptly arrive and we begin to eat. He tells me of his future travels and meeting up with his girlfriend. Anthony asks to hold my hand, as I am so beautiful . I say I thought he had a girlfriend (after saying no) and he says “yes but why should I limit myself why not be free”. I believe there are many good reasons to limit oneself --seeing freedom very differently. We walk back to the station so I can begin to investigate my ticket situation. Anthony asks to come, with a soft smile and one Namaste I leave him outside the station.

I find a window not in the ticket area marked enquiry, so I wait to speak to the man behind the glass with the microphone. When we decide it’s my turn he says “hello” this is a good sign. I pass him through my ticket that is waitlist #3 for 2teir AC. He punches some numbers in his computer and tells me the chart has not been made yet, I am still #3, we can not know more till the chart is made at 10:30. I walk around the station a bit and find a ladies waiting room where I read my book. At ten I go back to enquire and the man checks again and it has not been made. I wonder for a bit and he sees me through the glass and says over the mic “still not yet”. I go back to the waiting room and there is one Swiss girl looking for someone who speaks English. She is looking for reassurance that she is at the correct station for her train, I look over her ticket and tell her yes. I am happy to see that after being in India only a week she knows that you have to ask many people many times before believing you are where they say you are. After hearing how long I have been in India she wants to know why Indian man ask her the questions they do. So we have the Indian men talk they way your parents are meant to have the sex talk with you when you are young, some of the same results come from the lack of information. She wants to know why they all talk to her about sex and I say that it’s because she talks to them at all. I don’t even look them in the eye unless they are at work and I need their services but otherwise no communication, it’s cultural I say. She seems relieved that there is some solution to her problem even if it is silence, I think this is the solution to many “problems”.

This time I decide to go to the proper line #7 to see about my ticket and there is a long Q but one man motions for me to walk to the front of the line, this I do. One unkind looking women behind the counter takes my ticket, looks it up, and writes WL3 on it and hands it back, very bad sign. Back to enquire window. He looks it up and says the chart has been made and I did not get a place, he is not happy about this either. Enquire tells me I can go general class, meaning with out a seat at all for 27 hours to the place that everyone hopes to be when they die. Not a great option, either is flying. To fly would be very expensive and require a night in Mumbai and more taxies, not happening. Enquire tells me to go to the head ticket collectors office. This man says he loves America but cannot get me a place. If I had a phone this would have been when I called Lauren and asked what to do, but I told god I wanted to be alone and alone I am. Back to Enquire with some small tears in my eyes as I tell him no luck with HTCO. He tells me to wait 5 min, so I stand off to the side as he leaves his counter much to dismay of the sea of Indians waiting to be directed around. He rush back and tells me to come in the office. I walk around the side to the 3 police with large guns and say I need to go in, they decided this is OK. I find Enquire’s window, walk up behind him, and see that he is booking me some kind of ticket, we must hurry he says “it’s the last one”. I now have a ticket for 3 AC for the first 7 hours of my 27-hour journey. From that point on he books me a ticket in sleeper class where I am waitlist #197, it will get you on the train he says. After 7:30pm show my ticket to the collector and see what he says, not a great plan exactly buy it will get me the hell out of Mumbai. None of this was his job or concern but he got me started toward Benares as they were all calling it, the old name for Varanasi. Back to the ladies waiting area till 12:15 when I board the train.

I find carriage B1 and I think seat/bed 28. I put my backpack (bp) on the top and sit down with 2 Indian ladies who I find out later are sisters. One is already in love with me (Sukhwant) and the other likes me well enough (Pirtam). One Indian man dressed well carrying a laptop which when we come back to him later he is watching a movie on. There are a few other people in this area one man in particular who seems very in love with his wife and traveling also with a brother cousin or two. I buy a veg/rice meal and the sisters begin to unpack their lunch which looks amazing. Sukhwant who loves me gives me some mango pickle and a chapatti, the best I have ever had. I finish my meal and the one ticket collector (this man is never seen again) comes around checks our tickets, I shown him both of mine. He tells me my seat in the next area over and that at 7:30 when my first ticket runs out I can come back to this seat. I say to him, the sisters, and everyone else “I can come back right here at 7:30” they all say yes and smile, I believe this to be impossible but choose for now to go sleep in my bed as no one knows what this coming night will bring.

I stay in my bed till 8pm when young slightly angry ticket collector (YSATC from now on) asks to see my ticket. YSATC tells me to go away so I tell him what the first ticket man said, he is not believing me. He takes me to the next car to see older very angry ticket collector (OVATC from now on) who was not happy to see me. OVATC tells me I must go now to sleeper class, but I know I am waitlisted there and may end up in a worse situation. I ask if I can pay some any rupees to stay and get a firm NO. He sends me away with YSATC to make sure I exit AC class. I go back to my friends as my bp is still there. I tell Sukhwant that they are making me leave and there is much sadness on my face, she smiles, pats the seat beside her, and tells me to sit down. I say no this man is yelling at me and I must go, Laptop says to sit as does most everyone in the carriage. What can I do? YSATC comes looking for me and I look at the floor while he and Laptop, the sisters, and everyone one else go back and forth in Hindi. YSATC goes away and comes back. He and Laptop talk and I can understand “AC, waitlist, & rupees”. YSATC goes away and comes back. Laptop says I need to pay 700 rupees that I gladly hand over. YSATC goes away and comes back. He and Laptop go back and forth and Sukhwant gets her ticket out and gives it to YSATC who goes and comes back. Now Laptop exits with him only to return with my 700 rupees and a frown. He gives me back my money and tells me to climb to the top bed and hide, they will close the curtain. Before this can happen though Sukhwant calls her son in Mumbai for me to talk with and to whom I may have agreed to marry. I say, “Please I will go to sleeper” a firm no from everyone leads me to climb up, I put my lungi over my head and hope the yelling is finished. Sukhwant asks if I am hungry and I say yes, allowing yet another need to be met, she hands up 2 chapti with some allo gobi and dates for desert. She tells me it is from god and I eat under my cloth. Laptop asks me for 100 rupees which he gives to YSATC and I wonder if this has bought me enough freedom to go to the loo but decide it must be better to just go to sleep.

Around midnight I get a good shaking of the foot but buy the time I come to it has finished, looking back now I think this was a warning shake from YSATC. A few moments later there is a much firmer foot shaking along with some pretty pissed off shouting from OVATC, I am not sure there has every been anyone less pleased to see me in my life. He is telling me to get out of his class NOW, here enters one very official looking ticket collector. This new man, never to be seen again, says that the person assigned to this bed is coming aboard the train. We all know this is not true and the man in love with his wife tells him that it is his bed and he has given it to me, he is sharing now one bed with his wife. New man says nothing, YSATC says nothing, and OVATC shouts at me to GET OUT NOW! I begin to pack my things when Laptop looks up at me and asks where I am going, to sleeper class I say. Laptop says to got back to sleep and leave in the morning, everyone agrees and we all go back to sleep.

I wake up about 6 and have no choice but to try my karma and go to the loo. After I finish I open the door and there are 4 policemen with big guns staring at me, again some sadness on my face. I stand looking at them, they looking at me, no one seems to be sure about what happens nesxt, so I offer them the bathroom. With nothing left to lose I walk through them and back to me friends, Laptop left at 4am. Here again I try to leave but the sisters will hear none of it and buy me a chai. We eat some cookies, drink our tea, and laugh until I cry. I am very happy to leave this area when the sisters get off at 8am, but I still have a few friends around who will not let this happen. 8 hours to go and I am still a refugee in AC class.

Last and new ticket man comes around to check everyone’s ticket. I had him my sleeper waitlist ticket and he tells me to go to that car. Not asking how I ended up where he has food me. “Sir I have one small sadness, may I please pay some rupees and stay here till Benares”, everyone in the train car is watching to see what happens. He looks over his charts and books many times before telling me YES that for 265 rupees he can give me B-1 30 from the next stop all the way to Benares. Everyone smiles, and I am legit for the first time in what feels like a very very long time.

46 hours after leaving Goa I arrive in Benares.

Believe me when I tell you this is the short version of the story. My journal version would have taken many more pages but I type slowly and you have things to do.

I tell myself that if I am needless I will be loved. India tells me if I have needs then others have the chance to show love to me. I say that if I rock the boat they will leave me, they will not let me stay. India tells me that true love and true friendship require me to be just who I am.

Thank you India.

I love you, so much love to all of you.