When it is really early in the morning, I can hear a train chugging in the distance. It is just like when my eyes get quiet and begin to see the little details instead of the distractions...there are still trains chugging across the massive carpets that cover the floors of the shala. Tomorrow is my last day in Mysore and it is sometimes the things that I gripe about the most that I will miss like crazy. Like waking up painfully early and the constant confrontation of India that brings me to my edge. Or living so closely with people that they drive you so crazy that you realize it will be hard to live without them because you like being a little crazy.
So I had this vision of celebrating a little gift to myself for my b-day and just for fun by spending a day shopping and living it up in Mumbai before heading back to New York. Now I am not so sure.
My feelings on the whole subject are mixed up and complicated. I think that maybe it is best to just get a direct flight back and not even think about it, which is what I'll probably do... But I am sad and scared and disappointed and disillusioned and worried and frustrated and confused and more.
But I am still happy to be going back. And even in the chaos, there is a little flower growing through the pavement. I just watched a clip from the Today Show on the annual tradition of USA Black Friday madness and thought of me last year shaking in a coat with a coupon in my hand outside a Circuit City with my BF. I miss him.
Yesterday was my last primary class. It was pretty sweet. I feel like I have had so many breakthroughs. I don't even have the words to describe what the whole experience was like but it was something and it was significant and it all felt just how it was meant to be.
And then I spent most of the rest of the day sick in bed possibly with back bending fever or maybe the beginnings of my friend's cold. So I watched My So-Called Life episodes on Youtube and read Indian Cosmopolitan and dodged the rain to get masala dosas at the stand up place (which, by the way, aren't as good as the ones at 6 Main. Plus, Six Main delivers!)
Tomorrow is my last led second class. I am a little sad about that because it is just so much fun, but know that I'll be in there again someday. Today I am off to sample Santosha's latest: wheat-free pancakes. (I've gone back to wheat-free and it feels fantastic.) And to the center to pick up some Indian metal ware for the kitchen...
I have a huge bruise on the back of my arm from karandavasana. I was trying and trying and trying and then at a certain point I realized that I could do it one more time but what was the point of getting it today, right now? I had to let it go. There is a point where the ego-less effort turns into ego-feeding effort. You should try your best but without attachment to a goal. Or something like that.
Everyday feels like a gift. I have, what? 6 days left? So, I have deep cleaned my kitchen and parts of the rest of the house. I made granola and yummy meals and feel like giving and taking all the good stuff on this earth. Yes, I am having a serious new age hippie moment.
Today I have to do some serious work on a crazy epic upcoming project...But when I'm not doing that, I'm running around finding little amazing things to bring home.
This is no retreat center. I am convinced that Sharath has access to the power grid and just when you start to get too comfortable, he turns out the power. This time for more than 24 hours. It builds character I am convinced. Walking around with a candle.
There are things I want to remember. Like my friend who is convinced she is going to go back and have a baby. I want to remember what it is like to sit with her now. I want to remember this feeling of anticipation for my friend who will have a baby in nine days. The unknown. I want to remember the pure frustration this morning when I stared at our dirty sink covered with hairs and trails of ants. The sky full of stars when I remembered to look up on the way to the shala this morning. The silhouette of a horse in the field at 4:30am. Balancing on my forearms with my legs above and the lights go out and it is pitch black. I am there for one breath and thirty minutes. It is a place without time and I feel like the last person in the universe. The lights go back on and I cross my legs in karandavasana and start to turn the free fall into a feather landing on water. Start to.
A girl in pincha mayurasana at the old shala from Govinda Kai's photostream.
I am staring into nothingness, counting my breaths. In the dark of the changing room, I realize how much I will long to be here when I am not. I feel saturated with gratefulness for the opportunity to be lying on my mat listening to other girls around me sobbing on their backs in the dark. I think about how I am understanding this practice more and more. How it works without you really even knowing it: you just have to show up. You just have to try. I am smiling on the inside and even as my competitive edge rises up, I turn it around, wishing the girl next to me will get that post-uthplutih padmasana jump back that she is working on. I think about sending positive energy and dedication to people and I finish reclined on my mat covered with my rug and mosquitoes absolutely blissed out by my ridiculous new age moment.
It is true. I have booked my ticket back to-- you'll never guess--New York. I am fantasizing about heels, winter coats, sweaters, scarves, movies, pizza, and Central Park. Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.
But actually, I am thrilled to be going back to New York. I feel totally refreshed and centered and on the path and whatever else you want to call it. I feel sorted. No job yet, but I am optimistic. What am I looking for?
1. Well-paid job with benefits, room for growth, progressive work culture 2. Any combination of the above 3. Whatever I can get my hands on as long as there is a work/life balance
I don't have a specific position in mind, I am open to trying something new and kind of hope it turns out that way.
In the meantime, I have made my Mysore countdown calendar (I have less than a month left) and it is already getting packed. I soaking up every bit of work, refection, and relaxation time that I can get. I am laughing at downloaded ANTM episodes from Youtube. I am loving the South Indian thali that I never liked before. I am learning to let go to the dumb stuff and hang on to the truth. I am working slowly and steadily on karandavasana which is really a metaphor for me.
In the back of a rickshaw on the way to Laxmipurum, I am reflecting on the last few months in India. I have been busy but with what? What have I been doing? At the moment, my laptop is in my bag with open documents to be edited, revised, torn to pieces, and put together again. It feels like what's happened to me since August. Or maybe before that.
Everyday has been "okay good morning" who are you? what do you want? how do you think? why do you behave the way you do? what are your skills? what are your weaknesses? what are you doing? Every day. I feel edited, revised, torn to pieces, and put together again. I couldn't have planned it better if I tried.
I left New York thinking I knew what I wanted: long-term independent travel. But really I think what I wanted was the space to change. Here I have had the opportunity to really do the work it takes to begin to scratch the surface of what it means to understand myself, the world, and how I fit into it. The journey has brought both pleasure and pain, but the lessons I have learned along the way will stay with me for the rest of my life. Or at least that it is how it feels now.
I am putting all of my energy and focus into this job hunt. I am actually excited about it. I have unconsciously let the Livingmysore fade to the background, and sadly the blogging has faded slightly as well. What can I say? It is what it is. So what Will I do? What will my profession be? Don't know yet. I do know that I don't plan on teaching full-time. I do know that I want to find a position, whatever it is, that values me as me at a company that I feel happy and proud to be a part of. Vague, I know, but ripe with potential.
Yesterday was the moon day (so no practice) and today was led primary series. It was so soft and soothing (or maybe it was just my state of mind) after a week of second to karandavasana. Every time I get a new pose, my body and practice feels it. Poses feel different, I get sore, tired, and achy. Today's practice was just what I needed.
And when I am not crashing onto my butt from karandavasana, winning writing cover letters, or avoiding making my ticket change for December, I am becoming a first-rate connoisseur of the Mysore South Indian set dosa. It is an art really.
Resume cover letter functional resume writing test quick note informat cover letter online application salary.com compensation history company research
I have been looking for a job non-stop.
I got karandavasana in Sunday's led class. I am the one making the "thump" in the back of the room. It is the sound of my rump hitting the floor again and again and again.
I am watching and learning about people and relationships and growing everyday.
I am inspired by Sharath and Saraswati in conference, class, and thought.
Maybe no one told you, because I know that no one told me.
There is something about second series that really shakes a person up. I see the people just starting the series and they are energetic and smiling. I see the the people practicing full second and they are social butterflies. I see the people working the middle and they are all quiet loners. They are often forlorn and quick to withdraw to their caves. They are content to be alone shuffling about their houses. Their eating habits are strange. Their train of thought and social skills are at times puzzling.
So now that is me. Just realized it. My body sometimes feels completely shattered. All I want is comfort food, soothing voices, my mom, my boyfriend. Cozy sweaters and lying in the sun. I want comfort, sweetness, easy, soft. I want to be home for the holidays. I want to watch Christmas movies and romantic comedies. What I am getting is rigid, real, spicy, or at least that is how it seems. Aggressive and intense. Too much.
But now that I know, it is funny. Just watching myself be ridiculous. I am going to laugh when I see my friends doing the same thing. Just laugh and smile.
May become extremely critical of themselves and others
Will become angry, controlling and blindly issues orders without respect to consequences
Will begin to strongly doubt themselves
Under extreme stress they may withdraw, feel hurt, trapped and become over emotional
May withdraw and strongly criticize others
Sounds like fun, right? Ha ha. Really, reading this stuff I feel a huge cloud moving from above me to drop rain over someone else's head. The world is sunny again. The world is my oyster. This is me riding off into the horizon. Off into the great unknown.
I am getting dumb annoyed with the little things. A sign that there are not enough distractions around so I start sending my energy to whatever comes next: people. The people I see everyday. Do I really care how long the bottles have been sitting on the counter in the grand scheme of things? Of course not. Do I get really bothered that the only thing I ever talk to my roommate about is garbage (not rubbish--I mean useless information)? Yes. And even more than that, I don't like the feeling of getting frustrated with myself for feeling embarrassed for going through the process of my day. I get upset about things just like anyone else. It passes I know it passes. I learn from it. I do things better. But there is nothing wrong for it to happen and I don't want to feel dumb for having it. So okay I decide to not feel dumb but the fact is that I am being objective about my experience and being objective must allow the concession that this stuff comes up and I can't pretend that it doesn't.
The point isn't to stop thinking, it is to realize that the thinking is not you.
So there we have it. I am experiencing a dream, a fantasy, a lucid dream where sometimes I control things and sometimes I don't because I forget that it is a dream and that there are choices.
Beyond all that, getting annoyed is a sign that I am working hard at practice. Second series. Nadi Shodhana. Nerve cleansing. I had trouble sitting today I just couldn't get comfortable. My emotions are back and forth. I get irritable and tired and energetic and all over the place. I write this and I think how everyone must think I am nuts but I'm not. At least that is what Simon tells me. (Simon is the tree outside that talks to me.)
I think that it is also a sign that there has been a shift. I feel like I am ready to be released from spiritual rehab. I am now showing the new patients the ropes. I am leading the art class. I am on time for my meds, etc. I might get released for good behavior. Can't just stick around here for the food now can I? Got to get out and start experimenting with all this stuff I have made in the laboratory. Plus, I want to show the world how to make popsicle stick picture frames.
Alright I'll be serious. Seriously, this trip has been such an amazing learning experience for me. I didn't come for any answers, but the answers found me.
Yesterday's newspaper was filled with stories illustrating the many interesting facets of the Diwali experience. I suppose there are some consequences when you play with fire. Bombs that is, or fireworks, rather. Diwali is this mix of New Mexico luminarias, Fourth of July fireworks, and good old-fashioned Halloween evil spirit shunning. There are candles lining the houses and super-dangerous home-lit fireworks all in a big effort to scare away bad spirits. I'm not sure what the piles of doo-doo adorned with flowers were contributing, but contribute they did.
We had already heard the dawning of WWIII, which turned out to be the lighting of bombs all over Gokulum. But the real party was going down a couple nights later. My roommate came home with an armful of really sketchy bombs and we all headed outside to see things blowing up. All up and down the streets were entire families standing around and applauding the explosion that resulted from the little boy presently running from a lit fuse. We were all shocked by how many misfired and how super dangerous these easily acquired devices were. My friend laughed over how we'd see these tiny kids running away from fuses while Grandma clapped in the background. This was when my roommate moved to go inside to get more explosives. We all looked at the space between him and the front door, one foot on the stoop and knew--we were locked out. None of us had our keys. All the windows have bars to keep everyone out including us. (Maybe they thought up this extreme measure during Diwali?) So we had a chai and waited for a Diwali miracle. I took the last of our money--the 100rs in my pocket--and put it in Amy's hand, "take this please and buy the most delicious sweets you can find". She hopped gallantly onto the back of Rick's bike and headed off into the night for a locksmith and chocolates...or cookies...or whatever delicious sweet she could find. And we waited.
We got in eventually.
This morning as I head into Tina's to pay for my breakfast (fruit salad, egg dosa with chutney and spinach, coffee) I hear dismayed laughing. The sound is coming from the bathroom where my friend is circling the Indian toilet. What are you doing? I ask. I dropped my keys! She says. I am in stitches with laughter. We both are. In this bathroom everything slopes in toward the hole in the back of that blue hole in the floor like an art student study of perspective. Everything is angled in toward that point on the horizon in the middle of the page.
She got them out eventually.
The paper had stories on how the rise of eye injuries treated at the hospitals had increased. A puppy died from shock from the sound. Etc.
Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe second series makes you crazy. Maybe I'm just crazy.
Or at least that's how I feel as I slam trash into the garbage, toss t-shirts into bedrooms, dodge hairs in the sink, or check my glass before I fill it.
Just some things in the back of my mind...(karandavasana is the next pose in second series.)
The thing is, women aren't really expected to come up from Karandavasana. The rare exception is just that--a rare exception. People say that you have to have really strong bandhas (which is probably one of the places where "bandhas like a man" came from). This implies that men have stronger bandhas than women. This bothers me very much. But what if it is true? What if we really do have different bodies and different capabilities and different practices?
Yesterday in conference, somehow the class got on to the subject of nauli kriya. In nauli kriya, one pulls the belly in and does a crazy sideways rippling massage thing.
Nauli kriya is supposed to be good for toning the digestive system and for improving the bandhas...however, Sharath said that if women want to have babies, they should never do it. Oops.
So, it seems there is a men's and women's practice.
Post Friday led primary class, the three of us rode the high all the way to Bangalore. It was an impulse trip for sure. We had big dreams of kinda posh hotels, tasty "fusion" meals, shopping and dropping, but not after tearing up a dance floor with a mixed drink in hand.
Some of that happened.
We took the train. Second class. It started alright and we were in good spirits until we figured out that this was not the express and how 3 plus hours really makes your tailbone feel. But we would not be deterred. We landed in Bangalore frazzled and fabulous. "Take us shopping". Take us to a hotel. Take us for food and coffee and toilet...but not in that particular order.
I had never really been in Bangalore before. It is known as a big ugly techie city. And so it was. Loads of shopping. Overpriced kind of nice hotels. We opted for cheap bed and nice clothes/meal. But not before we were completely rained out with one umbrella and no change of clothes.
After checking into the hotel, we "freshened up" for five minutes and headed out for eats. A drunken rickshaw ride later we found ourselves in the middle of nowhere with no restaurants, pedestrians, or hope--only traffic and rain and huge puddles for us to step in. Somehow we decided to go into an office building and to our surprise discovered that it also housed a Japanese restaurant which turned out to be one of the best meals I have ever had in my life. It was positively orgasmic. The night ended with fashion TV in bed and a glass of wine each. The next day was just as wild and the never ending ride back was something one will always look back on with a smile yet never want to relive.
Back home, I sanitized everything and watched Lions for Lambs. Surprisingly good.
This morning I woke up with achy train/rain body but headed to class anyway of course...
Maybe I'm ready to head back to New York soon (ish), but no promises.
Sharath makes a point sometimes about how living your yoga doesn't mean living full time in Mysore doing some asana and then smoking weed (go figure). Rather, living your yoga is being able to strive for and maintain a sense of equanimity while existing in the "real world". Ashtanga yoga isn't "cave" yoga. It is the yoga of people who are a part of the world.
Meera likens it to the law of diminishing returns. That first bite of cherry pie is awesome. After that it gets less cool. By the end, you're just shoving it down.
So although I am totally grateful and happy with being here, I feel ready to start thinking about reentering the "real world". This comes as a bit of shock to myself considering last year I felt just the opposite. But I never did really have a plan besides not having a plan. And without thinking about it, the ouija board inside my head is pointing me towards New York. Who am I to argue? Maybe I am just growing up a bit and changing and wanting different things. That could be a part of it too.
But then the other part of me wants to stay here until I have no money. To stay here until Sharath takes time off. But then I think to myself "what for"? So that I can get lots of poses? So i can suck all the teaching out of Sharath? Three months or even four is a long time. I have and am learning a lot about practice, myself, people, life, and all that. I'm sure I'd learn more if I stay longer too. I don't know I'll just have to see what happens. I'm not even sure if I can get a flight out of here before the holidays.
Either way, I'll be happy to take it as it comes.
Practice has been interesting as usual. My whole body feels at times like a pulpy ball of raw meat. I can't believe I was going through this back in New York and able to go through an entire day of work. I can barely motivate myself to walk to my scooter. Maybe my body just knows that this is a time to rest and rejuvenate. It has been raining a lot the last few days. People say the monsoon has come late. Fun. Smelly clothes. Aching muscles and joints. Mud. Locked in the house with nothing to eat but jaggery.
I have this fantasy about who I am and what life should be and how I fit in it. I know others have fantasies about who they think I am and who they are and all that too. I think that part of growing and learning and this process is learning that maybe you are a star or a square and that you fit in the cut out that you fit in and that is amazing.
Here is a flick of my painting. Maybe I can figure out how to rotate it next time :)
A typical morning. The alarm goes off at 3:15 (used to be 3:30) and I probably hit snooze at least once. I roll out of bed and take a shower. I hang around for a while and then head out the door by 4:45. It is a minute ride on my scooter to the shala in the dark. I park and it is so quiet I am always convinced that people can hear me inside coming in "late" (many people begin to queue up at the gate which opens around 4:30 so the can get their favorite spot). I practice. I come home (although I like coconuts, I don't like talking with people post practice) and maybe hang out for a bit and then take a nap if I feel up for it. Then breakfast...
My blogging usually happens in that time before the nap. If it doesn't happen then (as it is now) then it usually doesn't happen at all because it is hard for me to get a moment alone around here. There are always people around and I can't help playing the host. But yesterday I was able to peel myself away from Gokulum to head over to Anand's in the center to finish my painting.
I was taking the traditional Mysore painting class with my bf while he was here in September. He finished his painting and I didn't. After he left I couldn't really picture myself sitting there without him so I took a couple of weeks off. In that span of time, there was a fallout between Anand, the painting teacher, and Santosha, the host space, and so the classes were moved to Anand's house in the city center. I know I am full of excuses but it took me two more weeks before I was able to carve out the time to go. 12-2 is just such an awkward time to have class. All that said, I made the effort and went to paint Monday and yesterday and finished my painting of baby Krishna lifting a cow over his head so he can drink some milk straight from the source. Kind of interesting subject matter now that I think about it.
Today I was so sore. Everything aching. And today was my first day of tittibhasana. It went surprisingly well. Of course, my thighs were burning but not nearly as horribly as they were when I first was learning the posture in New York. A little stronger every day.
A handful of friends and acquaintances are leaving over the weekend. I have mixed feelings about it. It is interesting being in such a transient place. It is strange not being one of the people leaving or preparing to leave. I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around the idea that right now is my favorite time of year in New York--Autumn and that people are finding costumes and buying turkeys and listening to Christmas music in stores.
"Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address."
It's funny to watch how the emotions of a person can change from one day to another. Or how things have to go completely wrong and horrible and bad and terrible (or at least to feel like it) for things to feel good again. Not that any of it matters really, but both sides of the coin feel very real when you are in it.
It is interesting to witness how we think we are reacting to things that are real when really sometimes it is just part of the program. How everything has happened before and we aren't as different from each other as one might feel in the highs and lows of every day life. For instance, not long ago I was talking with my friend, "Lisa", who was relatively quickly moved to the split and up to pinchamayurasana. She was going through very strong emotions--crying, laughing, anxious, afraid, childhood memories relived, etc. She felt she had some sort of personal problem ad signed up for past life therapy and deeksha stuff and psychotherapy. And now here I come and I realize that I am crying and getting upset and irrational and flooded with feelings of I don't know what. Coincidence? I think not.
Today after back bending, Sharath told me to take tittibhasana on Wednesday. I am nervous. I don't feel flexible or strong enough to do it properly. Of course that isn't a big deal but I still feel intimidated.
I've been dragging myself to practice and when I get like that, it transcends to all parts of my life. I drag myself to the blog, to errands, maybe to friends but probably not. Why the bad mood.? A combination of things but mostly because I get really optimistic and enthusiastic about things and the second that someone doubts them I get really upset and fall over. It is the same reason I decided to change from an art degree to art history. I can paint etc. but I really really can't take the critiques. I realize this is something I need to work on and it isn't always an issue but sometimes it really gets under my skin and I can't think straight.
Or so our tour guide says. But the only thing I know about cricket is one: Indians love it and two: I got hit with a ball on the foot while riding my scooter to the new Dasaprakash.
And so goes my weekend trip to Mumbai. Cool stuff, weird stuff, new stuff, and nice stuff. Mumbai is like what New York or Paris would be in 100 years if we were invaded by aliens. It is like a city on top of ten cities. It is a little like Miami, a little like London, a little like A Little Princess. I loved it.
I shopped, spa'd, swam, ate. Oh I ate the yummiest food. Organic brown rice pasta. Green papaya salad. Gorgonzola. Amazing.
I flew out Saturday morning and got back yesterday afternoon. This morning, back to practice.
It was so good to see family and to be in a big city. It really helped to put things into perspective. I feel really clear about what I want and what I am doing. I am glad I didn't force the "what's next question". People would ask and I was like "it will come" and it has.
Don't talk yoga with yoga people. It just ends in tears.
Last night a little innocent caffeine-induced handstand session prompted a 101 on jumping by one of the "boys that fly". I think it was the language barrier that really did it because all his "you's" meaning "one" were being interpreted as "you" personally. Then statements such as "you're cheating" and "chaturanga like a man"... You (personally) and you (one) can imagine the reaction when three girls are in the audience.
I like learning something new, don't get me wrong, but the way that people sometimes talk about practice gets me miffed. Statements like "he/she has strong bandhas" are hair raising to me. I mean, I understand where people are coming from and what they are trying to say, but it still makes me cringe. I just think that a little sensitivity of word choice is important because otherwise one feels that one's efforts are being made illegitimate. All of us have sacrificed something in order to be here. Therefore, it is kind of hard hearing someone say things like "you're cheating" when you are really putting your heart into it.
All that said, practice today was stellar. I paid serious attention to my bandhas, my core, moving slowly, and really integrating every cell of my being into being totally present in every breath. It was fabulous! Thanks to the crew (even when we are yelling, we are learning).
Sharath helped me in back bends today. I was suprised because my hands weren't as high as yesterday, but still, they were in about the same place as Nancy (above). I straightened my legs, and then, Sharath stepped back and let go. I balanced there all by myself. After a few breaths, I popped up, eyes wide, and Sharath said "good". That was it and maybe that was enough. I wanted to just jump on him and give him or someone a hug I was so overwhelmed with excitement. Now that is a crazy feeling.
"No afraid," Saraswati smiled up at me. "Not today," I said. And I really meant it. I meant it so much that it was almost a joke that someone else made and it wasn't me freaking out yesterday.
I had taken my three wheels and three drop backs and was waiting with my arms crossed across my chest like a mummy for Sharath or Saraswati to come help me. Sharath was waiting to help someone else in back bends and I could see that he clearly was avoiding me. I'm glad he did, because I had unfinished business with Saraswati.
She took her time and came over to me. I felt strong, flexible, brave. I really integrated the idea that it wasn't Saraswati's back bend or even practice. No--it was mine and this is my moment and she is here to help me. So I pretended she wasn't even there. I back bended like I was going to do it all on my own and she was an extension of me. She grabbed my hands and put them on my legs and my heels stayed down and I felt strong. She walked my hands up and up and I straightened my legs more and more. And then she kept walking them and I kept straightening them until my hands were holding maybe my knees but it is hard to tell when you are backwards and upside down. My hands were almost even. I couldn't even remember a time when my left shoulder was bothersome. My legs were as straight as I've ever taken them and my thighs were on fire. My butt was on fire.
I was right on the edge and the sensations were insane. I felt myself get a little tired or a little afraid like when you back away from the edge of a cliff and in that moment something inside me said "no, I am not afraid" and I completely straightened my legs and everything just stacked up.
I felt Saraswati step away so that she was barely even touching me. I felt like I had fireworks in my pelvis or maybe a fish bowl swirling with koi and bubbles.I felt like those colorful blobs in that Bjork video were jumping inside me. I was there maybe for a few seconds, maybe a minute bu not longer. I stood up, shocked. Saraswati had a very serious face. I put my hands on her shoulders and just kind of looked at her. She nodded and gave me the best squish of my life. The funny thing is, my back was not tense at all. It felt great. I've never felt better. I pranced to the dressing room and took my finishing postures. I rested and went to another planet. I realized that yes, it is 99% practice 1% theory, but with time, you notice that actually it is also 99% mental and 1% physical.
Wake up. Bathroom. Shower. Dress. Roll mat. Get keys. Lock door. Get on scooter. Ride to practice.
But now the roommates are both at 4:45 as well which turns my world upside down unexpectedly. I was this close to peeing in a jar. So tired, so sore. This is me doing my practice without the jazz without the flash. Messing up, not taking it to the extreme. I just didn't have it in me. Some days are like that. I still give myself an "A".
My mind was everywhere. Drishti, bandha, breakfast, breathing, Eric, and so on. But hey, it was all internal rather than external. That's got to count for something in my book. Some days are like that.
I was so exhausted. There wasn't just one place that ached and throbbed, it was a general feeling of raw meat flowing through my entire body. At least it was democratic. I think I am holding back in some places and I realized it was because I am afraid. I am afraid I can't do it, or that I'll break, or because it is new, scary, and really deep. I had back bending with Saraswati again, which I see as a gift. I figure I get her now because they know I can do it with just a little bit of help. I don't even try to want to believe them and I don't know why. Maybe I have hit a point physically or mentally that has been my edge and now I have to go past my comfort zone, which, of course, is scary.
Fear From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia Fear is an emotional response to threats and danger. It is a basic survival mechanism occurring in response to a specific stimulus, such as pain or the threat of pain. Psychologists John B. Watson and Paul Ekman have suggested that fear is one of a small set of innate emotions. This set also includes joy, sadness, and anger. Fear should be distinguished from anxiety, which typically occurs without any external threat. Additionally, fear is related to the specific behaviors of escape and avoidance, whereas anxiety is the result of threats which are perceived to be uncontrollable or unavoidable.[1]
So maybe it was anxiety instead?
When I was leaving, I stopped in the office to talk to Saraswati who was drinking chai. I told her I was afraid sometimes in dwi pada and back bending. She told me it would go away and to not be afraid. Nothing I didn't know, but sometimes you have to tell someone a tree is falling. I left before I really started with the waterworks.
No great discoveries or insights to report today. Just woke up, practiced, and am now sitting in front of the computer before taking a nap.
One of the interesting things about cleansing, or simplifying one's diet in general, is that there is an opportunity to witness the effects foods have on the body. Too much sugar? Allergic to almonds? It becomes pretty clear what is making what happen when you're only eating fruit salads or juices or rice or vegetables or water. And since there are three of us almost consistently sharing meals, we notice how the food we eat affects not only our own bodies, but eachother's as well. We also have been able to support eachother during the occasional freakout session during which the freakee either does or does not recognize that they are in fact freaking out. "Hey. Hey! Don't freak out." We all keep saying it until it becomes true.
But I feel really great. The low end of my practice has been raised and if I felt like I had more in me, the bar would be crazy high too. I'm feeling a real connection with Sharath, which is obviously nice. Today in padmasana, I heard Sharath grumble something in front of me (he was sitting on the stage and I was in the front row). And then it was, "Elise garble garble garble". Huh? "Knee down in padmasana". And then he showed me. This was all inbetween counts during a led class with 80 students. This is such a small detail.
Although I feel like I am just getting settled, that it isn't yet time to leave, part of me is dreaming about being back in New York or resettling somewhere else with E. I think about practicing at Guy's and making little lunches and getting books from the library. I think about moving to San Francisco or back to Albuquerque and seeing a live local band. I think about visiting my family as if it weren't a once a year occasion. Or getting on a plane and surprising my best friend weeks before she goes into labor. I want to be one of the first to hold that baby... And then the sound of someone breaking a drinking glass in the living room brings me back here to India.
One day good, two days broken. Or at least that is how it feels.
I had this idea to do a cleanse/fast to see the effects it would have on practice. Purely for science. The idea of not eating and/or food restrictions makes my palms sweat, but I thought that it might prove to be an interesting experiment. I talked my good friend, the obsessive faster, into putting together a comprehensive fast/cleanse program complete with food diaries and emergency snacks. As it turns out, some are more ambitious that others and although the structure hasn't yet materialized the motivation has. Tuesday I cut wheat and began eating raw/cleansing diet. Apparently I inspired a trend and three other friends jumped on board to various degrees.
I thought I was waiting to see the breakthrough in practice, because I didn't feel like an Olympic champion at all. My breath was shallow, my throat was parched, my bones and muscles ached. Yesterday I was unbelievably grumpy and aggressive. But then today I realized that maybe all these feelings aren't because cleansing sucks. Maybe they are happening because the cleansing is deepening the affects the practice has on the body. Come to think of it, in practice I was only thinking of practice. There was no residue from the night before. Today I noticed that I was sweating like crazy...I had this feeling that I was moving the bones around, rather than playing with puddy. Like I was rearranging the structure.
All that said, my whole body aches. People in primary or those who first start yoga go through this. They have this huge shift where their personality changes, their attitude toward food and life changes. They want to be cleaner, nicer, healthier people. Their bodies ache, burn, tighten , and transform. They look at more advanced people and think that someday the aching will stop if they could just hold on a little longer. Or maybe that nobody else aches but them. Well, here I am aching. I almost forgot how when I first started yoga, knees-chest-chin and other really basic hatha stuff left me sore for days.
And if there was even an ounce of me that felt I was working toward where I "should" be (last pose in NY--mayurasana), it has disappeared today. I am re-learning everything. Again, Sharath was coaching me through dwi pada. The thing is, my dwi pada is fine compared to some other people who are further along, however, if he sees that you aren't working your edge and that you can go further or do it "properly", he's going to wait for you to do it. I knew this when I got the pose, that it was average work, and was therefore surprised when I got yoganidrasana. If Sharath waits for you to have little breakthroughs before moving you on, this is a breakthrough that he'll wait for because he asked for it twice now and I'm trying but still not delivering.
But in the end, that is what it is about. It is about this learning process. The trying, the sweating, the dedication, the every day, the crying, all of it. So maybe I get my legs just perfect...then what? The interesting stuff happens all around that.
I got the pictures from the led second photographer this weekend. I think he really captured just that. Can you guess which one is me?
I had a hard time going to sleep last night. It could have been the new moon. It could have been "the roots" (my roommates are crazy hippies that constantly promote the wondrous miracle of their special root powder). It could have been the loss of another close friend to the transient nature of Mysore. When I finally got to sleep, my dreams were intense and fiery. I awoke with electricity and snoozed with gusto. I kept asking myself what time I had to be up, at practice, in the shower. Everything felt off. I slept with my eyes open as the hot water beat my back in the shower. Were my eyes open when I brushed my teeth? It was all like a dream. But when I jumped on my scooter and the wind blew the sleepiness off my face, all I could hear was some Bob Marley song from earlier the previous day. "Wow I'm in India!"
Was I in a David Lynch movie? It could have been. Before I had left the house, I was online looking for some human connection, reading emails, and skimming the front page of the New York Times. Packs of wild digs were howling outside like I've never heard before. I was almost scared to go out there. A car horn was letting out a steady honk. The headline reads:
In front of the shala there are a fraction of the scooters that there were last week. On the steps, there are less sandals. Inside, there were so many open mat spaces that I had a hard time choosing. I eventually rolled out next to Mauricio, Alex, Nuno, and Francisco. Nothing abnormal about practice except perhaps that the standing postures are beginning to feel more natural like when I was at Guy's. (I'm starting to think that this is an effect of second series only--the shoulders aren't as bulky? Also noticeable difference in back bending...read below.) I tried to take my time and to lengthen my breathing in the poses that make me uncomfortable to do so such as pasasana, bhekasana, etc.
I had worked on some eka pada and dwi pada strategies with Alex. With the eka pada's, I really felt a difference, and with the dwi pada, I was more even, however, I didn't remember until I was already finished that I had planned to come into it a different way. Oh well, there is always tomorrow. I felt fairly comfortable in yoga nidrasana--my feet felt pretty even behind my head. But then, down the tip of my nose, I could see Sharath hovering above me like those movie images of doctors hovering over a patient which has just reached consciousness. I lifted my head, he wedged his feet between mine and started wiggling them away from each other so they went deeper behind my neck. Then, I pressed my head back and my neck was practically on the floor. After, he told me "dwi pada like that". He said it a few times because I think I looked at him with this dopey blank stare that I probably have before 5:30am. I asked him if I should take dwi pada again and he said nope--tomorrow.
Sharath stood in front of me during all three of my back bends and all three of my drop backs. Now when I'm dropping back, I'm hovering until I can see my legs and bending my arms as if I would grab and then lightly landing on the floor. I think this helps me. When I went for chakra bandhasana (because let's just admit it, those aren't ankles anymore), Sharath took my right hand just behind my right knee. When he took my left hand, I was like "yeah right" because usually it is "yeah right" but today it was: Yeah. Right. I straightened my legs and brought in my elbows. He inched my left hand higher and then my right. He said to straighten my legs and I tried. He said to balance and I just stood there. It was a moment of total silence like that space before a car crashes where you see everything happening in slow motion or when you are about to fall. It was just me hovering there while the rest of the shala sped by. When I came up, I stood there for a second, completely winded. My body could not figure out what had just happened. I think Sharath was saying "good good". I was overwhelmed with...maybe it was emotion. I hobbled to the dressing room and just lied there for a while wondering if I should cry but by wondering, scared back the tears.
I'm still reading The Other Boleyn Girl. It never ends. It's about sisters who are rivals (because apparently sisters always are). It's about the wives of King Henry VIII and the role of women etc. It is very tedious and never ends. The gossip. The scheming. The charming. The games. This is what happens when people don't have to work either in the office or in the home. They start to work on their social stuff. Sometimes it feels like that here. All these people with all this time and lots of talking. It's like summer camp or Desperate House Wives or High School.
I'm spending more time with myself even if other people are around. I was thinking about how sometimes I feel a little hurt when I'm not invited to something or somewhere, but then realized that that is all temporary, and what I am learning to create here is something perfect. It's like Goa. Around this time of year there is a mass exodus of AYRI students to practice with Rolf in Goa. At first I was a little jealous. I wanted to go too. Everyone described it as such a paradise, how could I not? But this time around I realized that that paradise is fleeting. Maybe I go to Goa and have a fun time but then what? Will the people I meet still be my friends 20 years from now? Will the practice I have with Rolf be about me or about Rolf? I prefer to stay here. I have a teacher who I trust. I have myself. I have my family and friends and I'm here for the practice. More and more I feel like "the practice" is learning how to create a paradise within myself. This is permanent.
I'm learning how to stay focused and not get distracted by other people which is harder than it seems.
Tomorrow is Sharath's birthday. This french woman had a bunch of people sign a big card that she was giving him today after the led second class. I practiced in the same spot as last week--front and to the left. I was really shaky. I think perhaps I didn't have enough water. However, it was also really hot and humid in the room today and there was some guy taking photos (I emailed him asking for a copy). I tried a new method for dwi pada which didn't go as planned but certainly taught me much. Yoga nidrasana was fine. For back bending, I was feeling particularly "open", but I felt strong. On my second back bend, I hovered with bent arms and could see how that with some time this could be me grabbing my own ankles solo soon. I kept feeling these really happy feelings like "wow! I'm here in Mysore in led second! Wow!" I took my time in finishing postures and woke up from resting to find that I was the only one left resting while the more advanced students were still being led by Sharath. I rolled up my mat and headed for the dressing room to change. When I came out, I stood to the side while Sharath received presents and flowers from students (the led students were still in resting but were peaking to see what was happening). I put my mat on the floor and waited for Sharath to turn toward me. When he finally did, I spread my arms gave him the "you come here" hand gesture, wrapped my arms around him and gave him a huge hug. I squeezed him and said "Happy Birthday Sharath!" All the students resting laughed and Sharath smiled. Later at breakfast, I heard some students saying that everyone was hugging Sharath after that. I don't know, for me it just felt like what I wanted to do.
As my friend Rachel has asked: what is it about this ashtanga that just, well...works? We know that it is a system of set postures. We know that you learn progressively. We know that you need a teacher. We know that it is a tradition that has been passed on from teacher to student. But why is the sequencing put together the way it is, and why is it so effective?
A Brief History of Time:
Back in the day--maybe turn of the centuryish--there was this sanskrit scholar named Krishnamacharya. Apparently he had a dream where he met a long deceased Guru who transmitted the information of a long lost text called the Yoga Korunta. The Yoga Korunta was pretty much the only vedic text that mentioned asana (yoga pose) practice. And according to the ashtanga yoga of the Yoga Sutras, doing yoga poses was one of the 8 steps to enlightenment. So apparently the Yoga Korunta had lists of postures which became the 6 series of ashtanga yoga.
So Krishmacharya teaches and debates and gets pretty famous in India because until then, yoga was for Saddhus. If you weren't in a cave with dreadlocks, you weren't doing yoga. But for Krishnamacharya, yoga was a catalyst for enlightenment as it made the body healthy and the mind happy so he got everyone into it (eventually even girls gasp). He had many students over the years like BKS Iyengar, Indra Devi, Desikachar, and of course, Pattabhi Jois. Technically they all were teaching ashtanga yoga in subsequent years as ashtanga yoga refers to the 8 fold path in the Yoga Sutras, however, they weren't all teaching the precise sequencing laid out in the Yoga Korunta. Well, all except Pattabhi Jois.
When you look on a yoga schedule today, you'll find names of classes like Iyengar, power, hatha, jivamukti, bikram, etc. But when you see Ashtanga, you know it is referring to the physical practice still taught by the family of Pattabhi Jois in Mysore, India.
As legend has it, the text of the Yoga Korunta was possibly seen by Jois, possibly disintegrated, possibly eaten by ants. Did Jois and Krisnmacharya make up the sequences? Maybe. But hey, they work! The question is: why?
Case Study: Growing up in a US suburb, I attended your average middle America public school, complete with traumatizing Phys Ed experiences. Every few years was the "President's Challenge" or something like that, where we had to take a series of physical fitness tests. How far could you reach over your toes? How many sit ups? How many push ups? Girls should run a mile under 10 minuets, boys--7. How many bench presses? How many pull ups? The girls had to do one--just one and I couldn't do it. I was even in Gymnastics and everything. So for us losers, we had to hang there for a certain amount of time while everyone made fun of us. It sucked.
Flash forward a decade or so and I'm in the backyard of a friend having a going away to India brunch. There's a bar and I'm hanging saying I've never done a pull up and then I begin to magically levitate. I was shocked. I did it again. 2 pull ups! And I'm older and heavier and apparently in the best shape of my life. What is it about this ashtanga that makes it work?
I couldn't get my mind to stop. You'd think that with very little sleep, an early wake up, the meditative time of the morning, etc., I'd be easily jettisoned to yogi yogi land, but alas, this was not the case. I was going through the movements while the ticker read off every ridiculously insignificant bit of information it could gather and throw into my peaceful lake of a yoga mind. Yet at the same time, I was really focusing intensely on my practice. I guess this is what my first yoga teacher (if you don't count the Crunch yoga and Jane Fonda VHS tapes) patiently explained to us while my mind was who knows where. She'd say to picture your mind like the sky and in this sky (like any sky) are clouds. These clouds are your thoughts. You can't just make them disappear. Instead, you let them happen and actively allow your self to watch them float by rather than involve yourself with them.
It is surprising how much the body can learn and so quickly. Even just from yesterday, even though I felt tired and sore, I could really notice a difference in each pose. Or maybe it was just a full day of lounging poolside with Grace at the Lalita Mahal... Even therapy has its drawbacks. My whole body is a little too sun-kissed. Twisting hurt the skin on my stomach. Chaturanga hurt the skin around my armpits. My thigh skin--ooh.
With all the leg-behind-the-head postures I was knotting myself into today, I also got to thinking about my "LBH" history. I was never able to put both legs behind my head as a kid or anything. I could sometime touch one foot behind my ear, but that was pretty much it. In college I took a yoga class with Mary Flinn and I remember one day she just put me in supta kurmasana:
And then lifted me by my feet into dwi pada sirsasana:
It was the craziest feeling ever! I felt like someone dumped water over my head or if I was a bathtub filled with water, someone pulled the plug. It was intense and amazing and I didn't know how to get out! And now I'm tossing my legs over my shoulders every day like a bag of potatoes.
In Yoga Nidrasana, you lie down on your back and cross your legs behind your neck while clasping your arms behind your back. The name of the pose translates roughly to "yoga sleep" or some people like to call it "sleeping yogi". It is pretty challenging, but when you get to a place where you can rest into it, yoga nidrasana can be such a relief.
Some days, like yesterday and the days surrounding it for instance, I wonder why we have to do this. (This, of course, happens to follow Sharath's conference talk on Sunday about getting rid of fear and doubt.) I had finished my practice in the main room (all of my finishing--cool down-- postures after back bending take place in the ladies' dressing room) and was weaving my way through the sweaty bodies when I heard/saw this girl Cat yell super loud and shout "fuuuuuuck!" Everyone in the shala stopped mid pose, breath, walking, flying, what have you, to turn and see what happened. It sounded like more than a "release" or an "opening". It sounded like Saraswati had ripped her arm out of the socket. I continued hobbling to the dressing room, rolled out my mat, and reclined as my back (my core, really) radiated electricity to every cell of my body. I couldn't move.
Not long after, Cat threw open the door, sobbing, and trekked up the stairs to the second floor of the dressing room. It's like when you smell vomit, or see someone yawn--I almost started sobbing too. And why not? This entire experience is very strong. Eric just went back to New York. I left everything and everyone. I'm in a totally foreign place. I'm alone. I'm working my body every day to its limits. I have no idea where I'm going. I have dwindling funds. I can't even choose when I practice, what I practice, what I eat. I'm in a whirlwind of change and for once I feel like I don't even have a choice in the matter--I am playing the witness. I'm watching all this stuff unfold and it is all so new and rich that I don't even know how to begin to participate at all.
I slid on my slippers outside and could overhear Cat laughing and chatting with friends by the coconut stand. Guess nothing ripped after all. Guess it was a huge release or something. Wow. Is this normal? Some days I see it all from the outside and I think to myself, "Wow. We are really REALLY crazy."
Everything is sore. The growing pains are back. With the changes in practice come the changes in body. I have this nagging cold feeling like I want to throw up. A few days ago I was feeling something so intense I was shaking. My arms were shaking and I couldn't stop it. I don't know what the feeling was exactly, but it had to do with Eric leaving and it shook me from the core. I'm trying to keep everything in perspective. But sometimes I get a little overwhelmed by it all. It is interesting how much of what is happening in the mind and in the heart directly affects what happens in the body. With ashtanga yoga, the repetition day after day allows one to see these changes as they unfold. If it is that obvious to me, is it that obvious to everyone? All in all, I'm in good spirits. I don't think I'll be heading back to painting class for a few days though. I don't think I could quite bear going alone right now. Too strong for sure. I got some really great shoes. I found some perfect practice shirts. I'm keeping myself ridiculously occupied. I upgraded my scooter to an Activa. It is bigger, heavier, better. I'm reading The Other Boleyn Girl. It is tedious.
I almost forgot. New post today--yoganidrasana. I wonder if I look as crazy as this guy. For me, it seems that on the days where I just give up, the days where I just say "whatever I'm focusing on my bandha or breath" because I can't even fathom bending are the days when I get a new pose.
Some notes on that: In dwi pada sirsasana (the pose before yoga nidrasana) Sharath told me to jump to a sort of tittibhasana position rather than bhujapidasana. He wasn't specific, but said to not cross my legs. I was jumping into a bhujapidasana-like position and then lowering down to my butt and taking position, but he said to just jump straight. I think it is more like this:
the sex and the city movie was ridiculous. I'm spending more time at the southern star hotel eating than swimming. the bf leaves tomorrow and we're enjoying our time together. first day back to practice since Wednesday and it was the led second. feeling surprisingly comfortable in class like it's just me and my mat. when I was doing my drop backs, I thought I heard Sharath say "Elise, chakra bandhasana!" But didn't believe it because he was in the middle of leading the led second series class. Also because that would mean doing it on my own. Also because I've never heard him call "ankle grabbing" anything. so i didn't do it. and now I'm home on the internet and seeing that he was talking to me. off to meet the bf at the southern star for breakfast.
The internet was down for a couple of days. Just a lot of reflecting and Indian adventures since then. The bf is leaving on Monday and all that comes with the event is occupying a good amount of my time. And rightly so I suppose.
Last night we had dinner at the Lalita Mahal. We didn't know at all how to get there so we just asked people along the way. This led us on a wild ride through the night on the outskirts of the city. We really couldn't believe our eyes when we saw the place. It was beautiful and the food was tasty and there was live sitar music. Sometimes I love India and sometimes I hate it.
I don't feel much like writing right now. I just had breakfast and am curling up on the bed solo to watch a really bootlegged copy of the Sex and the City Movie. There isn't much that could compete with that.
We took a rickshaw (the four of us -- three is already tight) to the bus station. When we were almost there, the driver turned off the rickshaw and was alternating between giving it pushes and letting it roll. Once the downhill slant stopped, he turned to us with a smile and gestured "no breaks". Nice.
We walked the rest of the way--just a half block through dozens of huge buses. Our Indian friend from Chennai came with us and seemed to know more of what to do than us, or had less patience for our antics. She darted between buses asking drivers and conductors hanging out of doors "Madikeri? Madikeri?" We slowly, from one bus to the next, were led to a bus on platform 6 that was rolling out of the station. "Madikeri? Madikeri?" He asked us. "Madikeri, Madikeri!" We replied. The bus looked stuffed. They told us to get on. We told them to wait because Leena had darted back into the madness for an ATM. She reappeared just when the conductor lost patience and we teetered onto the bus, down the aisle, and into four empty seats in the back.
The thing that people always tell you and the thing I forgot was so great in elementary school is that when you sit in the back, every bump that the front of the bus feels gets multiplied by 10. We bumped our way through Mysore and south toward Madikeri.
The scenery changes quite a bit, it turns very green and lush with tall trees. Coorg is an area that is famous for spices and coffee. Madikeri is one small town in the area. Our driver from the home stay was to pick us up there.
About three hours later we arrived--battered and weary. It was chilly and we wore long sleeves and it was raining but we brought umbrellas. The driver pulled in right away and we stuffed ourselves inside. "Hungry?" He asked. We all thought that a nice home cooked meal with tons of coffee was waiting for us. Confused, we relayed our Indian takeout order. This took a while. Finally, we were on our way to the home stay. Leena chatted in the front seat with the driver. Apparently, he was the brother of the lady who owned the homestay or something and that maybe tomorrow after work he would possibly take us on a tour of the plantation. Huh? I looked out the window at the crappy little houses on the side of the road and thought about how funny (not) it would be if one of these was our home stay.
We rolled up in front of a less than piece of shit, but for sure not, a 1020 rs per double room without food home stay. We all thought this was dude's house that we were going to eat at before heading to the home stay. But when we stepped inside, a lady started showing us the rooms and the sparse furnishings. "Do you want hot water?" They asked. Obviously. We were stunned. 1020 rs for two people with food not included and an unstocked kitchen and no one to cook for us and no electricity and no transportation included and no tours and not located in a scenic mountain/plantation and most of all no coffee. Not even a coffee maker. Not even a tea pot. Nothing. You have got to be kidding me. Oh and it was possibly going to rain all night so we could imagine ourselves sitting angrily in this crappy house with no food or electricity. No way.
"No way I'm paying that for this guys sorry." But where would we go? What would we do? I pulled out Lonely Planet and told someone to get out their cellphone and we started to make some calls. We found a place--Honey Valley--which sounded promising.
The home stay people didn't take the news graciously. Of my friends, one was silent, the other two apologetic. I was like--I'm sorry but you're crazy. I wouldn't have any of it. They were obviously trying to rip us off outrageously and they knew it. These were really rich people trying to pull one on us and I couldn't figure out what the point was and really just didn't have the patience for the whole production. To add insult to injury, the guy walked IN HIS SHOES (which were wet and dirty from the weather) through the house, through the bedroom, and into the bathroom to use the toilet. Grr.
We took a cab out of there to a place called Kakkabe. We listened to Indian hip hop and the driver would stop the car periodically to show us cardamom, coffee, and pepper growing in the fields that framed the winding road. It took us about a half hour to meet the jeep to take us the rest of the ride. We found out why the jeep was necessary as we were thrashed about--bags flying--for 30 minutes.
The home stay was at a lovely little lodge nestled amongst lush vegetation. Our rooms were nothing special and a little pricey for what they were, but we were happy to be in the environment we had envisioned and yes, there was coffee.
We went for hikes, we ate food, we had a fire. It was basically posh camping. Our room was, um, fun. There were leeches in the bathroom. Our bed was damp. There were no mosquito nets or screens. There was no hot water in the shower. We got leeches on our feet from the hike. We drank coffee. We ate food. We read and slept.
We came back the "authentic Indian experience way". One rural bus crowded with locals and screaming school children. We ran after a bus on its way to Mysore. We ran to the front of the bus to stop them from leaving our friend who went to pee behind.
All in all, good fun.
Got back last night about 8pm. Slept. Practice this morning. That's it.
I stormed down the block wanting to push over every parked scooter. I wanted to kick every Indian guy with tight eighties acid washed jeans in the crotch. I swung my arms into the air and yelled. I kicked up dirt and stomped on all things that would crunch. I wanted to give India a good kick in the balls. Some moments are like that. You're trying and trying and trying and India just says no and that is it. You have to give up, you have to surrender, you have to let go. And even moments like that pass and are quite comical in retrospect.
This morning was the led second series class which is supposed to begin at 6:15, but seems to really start at 6:30. I ran from the toilet to find everyone else standing on their mats listening to Sharath's announcements: conference today at 9:30am followed by tabla performance, and then "samastitihi!"
I practiced between Leecha (friend and fellow Tina's breakfast "server" [I was working at Tina's during month 1]) and Mauricio (the practice twin). I confess that I did a few pre-practice stretches. My rationale is that in New York I move a lot more than I do here and so I'm trying to level the playing field. But whatever, who cares anyway? I wore the long pants so that bakasana b was more guaranteed (I have to jump my knees to perch on my arms and balance and slippery arms make a crappy landing base). Boy could I feel my arms working in the next two postures and then came my last pose--eka pada sirsasana. I began to roll up my mat and Sharath stuck out his finger "one more". I quickly rolled out my mat once more and took the next pose--dwi pada sirsasana.
1. From down dog, jump legs into bhujapidasana position (legs crossed around arms while balancing on hands) 2. lower butt to ground 3. take legs behind head 4. take hands into a prayer position 5. breathe 5 times 6. lift butt off ground while balancing on hands 7. take 5 breaths 8. take bakasana -- crow pose 9. jump back chaturanga 10. I go back.
Off to the coco stand to meet fellow travellers to Coorg. Hoping to take a bus. Coffee and mountains here we come!
With the roommates gone, the animal life has taken over. The mosquitoes in the living room are downright arrogant, the ants in the kitchen are persistent, the spiders in the hallway are multiplying, I'm still waiting for an update from the roaches. And I just got a memo that the fruit flies are declaring war. So we do the only thing we can--we leave. For now at least. These infractions call for drastic measures. Are there exterminators in India?
There was no practice today as Saturdays are usually rest days (except for Saraswati students who rest on Sunday). Tomorrow there are the two led classes (primary and secondary) with Monday off for the moon day. Tuesday it's back to Mysore classes. Complicated.
The master plan for the weekend trip is Coorg (images of coffee, mountains, crisp air, and train rides). We'll leave after tomorrow's practice and return Monday evening. That's assuming that we figure out how to get there and back. Trains? Buses? Automobiles? All to be determined.
Plans for the coast were washed out by the idea of meeting continuous rain and off season closures. That, and the travel time. Hampi was an idea, but again, the whole overnight train business seemed a little excessive. Apparently Coorg's neighbor, Ooty, is too commercial. So Coorg it is (maybe?). Coffee, mountains, toy trains.
Just got out of Friday's led primary series class feeling refreshed. It is a little strange walking out of the shala and just kind of standing there now that Beg is gone. Used to be that everyone would gather for a post-practice coconut. Right where the truck used to be, there is a framed portrait of the man along with many flower garlands. I didn't usually stick around for a coconut this time around because I didn't really have any interest in talking about my practice in that sideways comment sort of way, but it was always nice to share a smile with Beg on my way home. I hope this benefit dinner tonight raises a good amount of money to help his family...
Practice was practice. What can I say? I've got some things that are good and some that aren't, some things that are fun and some that aren't, and so on. I got kicked in the head by the person in front of me--that was fun. No apologies either. This guy is now working on third series. Just to put it out there again--the ability to do more advanced postures does not a good person make. But hey, it happens. I'm just glad that a) there was no poop on his foot and b) the point of impact was not my eyes, teeth, or nose.
I'm not sure what's happening for tomorrow's supposed safari trip. Our roommies said they had it all planned out, but they just mentioned the prospect of ditching us for some rumored waves on the west coast. Me and the bf can obviously make our own way, but it would be nice for someone else to plan everything and I guess they are pretty fun to hang out with...I guess. Today we've got to sort that one out.
All in all, things are good, I'm happy and healthy, India is fabulous/terrible India, and I'm just taking it one masala'd little day at a time.
Some interesting youtube videos with my friend, Anne:
Yeah roommates just got home and are like "we're going to the coast...so are you guys still going on safari?" Um thanks guys you said you were planning everything...
Well I guess this opens up the opportunity for us to sort something out for ourselves. I think that situations like these are when fun things happen...
