New toys, and some old favourites

I have a confession to make –  I must admit that recently I have been poo pooing yoga a little. Maybe I have not been poo pooing yoga, but more the yoga world and what it has become in the west. Little more than a physical exercise class and a whole lotta ego so it seems. After Rishikesh, I was certainly feeling disillusioned. And perhaps I have been a bit like a child who gets a new toy for Xmas, my new toy has been Tibetan Buddhism, and like the old favourite teddy that you discard for the shiny new barbie, I have perhaps let yoga go by the wayside somewhat. But one day with my yoga teacher Mark Breadner, and I am back, I am magically transported to the first time I heard Mark present “Bringing Yoga to Life” where I sat and was transfixed to his words, and it feels a little like having a cuddle with your old favourite teddy (that is the yoga, not Mark, although he is rather like a cuddly teddy, even though when I first met him I didn't think so but maybe I will save that for another day).

Day 1 of Yoga Coach training and 21 days til I am home – wow. The day has flown by but I have found myself already having some aversion to a daily blog. What was I thinking? What is the point? Who really wants to read it anyway? But I made a commitment to myself that I would, and not one to bail out on commitments lightly, I will stick to my promise and not move from the laptop til it is done. So first of all, some of you may be wondering what the hell is Yoga Coach, so I suggest you check out Mark’s website – some very cool stuff. The course I have done before, but when I knew Mark was teaching in Bali, it was an opportunity I could not pass up – 3 weeks with a teacher who for me, really embodies yoga and what it all means. Today is the easing in day, the figuring each other out time (there are 10 of us on the course) and for those who have studied with Mark before it feels like coming home, back to base. It all means different things to different people, but in essence our motivation is all the same – to live our lives to the highest potential so we can help others to do the same. I tell you, pretty cool stuff.

My own courtyard, not a bad place to be studying :)

So to be honest thoughts of home are far from my mind as I immerse myself in the language of a science that helps me learn something about myself each and every day. Skype with Coop’s (my 4 month old nephew) is getting more and more exciting as I realise in 21 sleeps I will get to cuddle the little man. Pretty excited by that, but for today, it is my favourite old teddy that has kept me occupied (that is both yoga and Mark), discussing our purpose in life and learning how we can – get this – stay in the flow. I am not sure I remember those words as being so evident last time, I am sure it is a new addition, but they are certainly appropriate given this blog and my intent of my trip....how can I stay in the flow more of the time? But like anything you hear over and over again, you hear something different each time. The words are familiar yet strangely different, but then I am perhaps different. That is one major thing I will no doubt cover in the next 3 weeks, am I different? How have I changed? Of course the first thing Mark asked me when I saw him, “So what have you learned??”  But I will save that for another day – I would love to have some wonderful words of wisdom to share, but to be honest, I can’t nail one specific thing right now. I need to ponder that some more. So 3 weeks of learning, and growing and living yoga, how awesome. 

And on a side note, not to forget Barbie (Tibetan Buddhism), I am seeing that it is kinda cool to have two favourite toys, instead of either or, I have both.

Duck Duck Fish

As I sit and sip my crisp white wine, I can’t help but smile to myself at how things change. When was the last time I sipped (or even tasted for that matter) white wine. In a real wine glass. How long has it been since I read a menu and only understand half of the words, and the menu is in English? It has been awhile, maybe Europe? You may recall my last experience with the western world, I went into shock (Alice in Wonderland) but this time I am prepared. I was expecting to feel like a fish out of water, but instead I feel more like a duck.  This week in Ubud, Bali has been mainly duck to water moments – from the stunning choice of food and wine, to the gorgeous retail stores and the overload of yoga and all the stuff that goes with it. 

Don’t get me wrong, there has been moments where I have felt like I have been flapping around, desperately trying to gasp for precious life force (think fish out of water) but I realised that is those times where I have been outside my comfort zone. Looking back, when I hit London last year, it was simply that things were not foreign, my flapping then was simply my comfort zone had shifted some what. Now I have a beautiful gift called awareness....I am more aware of the things that make me start to lose my breath, I can feel the oxygen slowly seeping out of my lungs and the gripping feeling in my chest indicates I am having a fish moment, it is a sign from my body that the uncomfortability and perhaps even the fear is simply I am outside my zone. Inside the zone is certainty and control, harmony perhaps, and outside is the great unknown, maybe a sprinkling of chaos and definitely some feelings of "ok, NOW what do I do." It has just dawned on me really, so flapping fish moments are not so bad after all if I can see them simply as that, my comfort zone stretching. I am not feeling in my zone.

So this week I have tried out some things that make me feel comfortable – finding good coffee, trying new food, and also investigated some things that usually make my hands go clammy. I attended a Tibetan Singing Bowl meditation and had to control myself from snorting when the dreadlocked Singing Bowl – what do you call him, technician? Musician? – anyways, when the dude running the show said “you may just experience realisation of the self....the Tibetans have been meditating with these ancient bowls for centuries” If only self realisation was that easy! Why didn’t someone tell me sooner! And out of all the Tibetans I know, I don’t think one of them uses bowls for meditation. Oh well, it draws a crowd. At least I could laugh.  A definite fish moment tonight, a Chakra Meditation (I have tried a few things this week) that involved sound – now I HATE singing, well in public anyways, and this was for sure a fish moment, but given my awareness, I could see it as a fish moment, outside the comfort zone is all. So embrace it. And I became a duck. And flowing with the moment when the instructor encouraged us to embody the vibrations of sounds and colour into our energy system and to see the colours we were transmitting - whatever.

In all seriousness though, getting outside the comfort zone is not always fun or easy. In the last few weeks, I have had 4 women whom I admire greatly, admit (either to me or publicly via their blogs) that are having moments of feeling a bit like a fish. Things are not flowing, they are having one of THOSE days where you would just as soon get back into bed and pull the doona over your head and say bye bye to the world for a few precious moments, one of those “are you serious?!”  days and moments where you think to yourself WTF?!? And I have been thinking about these girls, as they inspire me, they give me hope and I love love love that they are so damn honest about what is going on for them, and I realised something – they are all following their dreams – all 4 of them have visions, they are passionate about those dreams and they are living them. They are constantly putting themselves outside their comfort zone in the pursuit of their big ideas and amazing lives they lead. They are mums, and business women, they are creating and carving change in the world not just for themselves but for other people. They are doing what most people only ever say “wouldn’t that be nice one day”. How amazing are these women. 

So this goes out to those women, the women out there living their lives to the fullest, to those who are dreaming big and doing it. And in the process they are occasionally feeling like fish, but for the most, are amazing and beautiful ducks.

You can read about the beautiful and inspiring ladies:

Fiona at Inner Pickle

Kelli at Heart Glow

Stella at Shiny Yoga

Bec at Mitrataa

I tell you, they are A-M-A-Z-I-N-G

AND - if you are interested, starting 4th June, I am going to do a daily (yup, daily - aka fish moment here) account of my last 21 days on the road, throw in Yoga Coach training and you have yourself a recipe for a roller coaster ride. So come and hang out and enjoy the ride with me :)

Vipassana - a marathon for the mind

"Vipassana, which means to see things as they really are, is one of India's most ancient techniques of meditation. It was taught in India more than 2500 years ago as a universal remedy for universal ills, i.e., an Art of Living."

I recently attended a teaching by Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo (a western nun who spent 12 years meditating in a cave) and she talked about how in order to train the mind, we first must tame it. It makes sense, you need to tame a horse before you begin to train, and I figured after 12 years in retreat, this small unassuming lady with bright sparkly blue eyes knew her stuff. Perhaps that was the unconscious motivation for me to embark on vipassana – a 10 day, 10 hour a day meditation retreat – but I can’t claim that it was a conscious motivation, it is more like a test of sorts. A bit like mad people who decide to run a marathon, I was signing up for a marathon with my mind. And it was about day 4 that I had a serious case of the “what the f**k am I doing heres” just like first time marathon runners (or so I am told). The realisation of what you have signed up for, the realisation that you are not even half way, and the realisation that you are not sure you are cut out for this and it is in that moment that you don’t know whether to laugh or cry but have no alternative but to carry on. 

 

It is hard to find the right words to describe the experience – I must admit that it has all begun to blur into a haze of slightly uncomfortable but slightly warm and fuzzy memories. Being alone with your mind for such long periods is an interesting process as I found I would swing from dull and sleep like comas to mind racing moments where I was filled with creativity and inspiration. All well and good, but unfortunately not really the point. The point, is to create focus and attention, and to work on noticing the sensations in the body. And that is it. There is no bells and whistles to this meditation, no focus on your third eye and see the white light type of scenario’s, no feel the arising of energy through the chakra’s and watch as kundalini awakens type of stuff – no, this is the technique taught by the Buddha that has been preserved and passed on predominantly from Burma. The system is taught by S NGoenka, and he is quite specific in his teachings in making them non-denominational and non-sectarian. The days are long and arduous (4am wake up gongs and the last session finishing at 9pm) and with centres all around the world, are aimed at teaching the technique to people of all religions. I was in a centre in Thailand and participated in a course with 70+ people who were predominantly local Thais (Theravada Buddhism is alive and well in Thailand). Dhamma Kancana is part of the global network of centres that are purpose built and rely solely on donations –the course is free for new students (all meals, room etc so a pretty good deal really).

But back to the mediation and my experience – I have been told by people it was the hardest thing they have ever done. I am not sure I can put it in that category, but I am not sure what box it does fit in. Day 1 – 3 were almost the false sense of security as we started by focusing on our breath – sounds easy I guess, but by mid afternoon of day 3, it was excruciating. Try it for a minute, breath, inhale, exhale, and watch – see how long you last before getting distracted? Can you get to a minute? Imagine 600 minutes of that, and that is just one day.  Fighting moment by moment to stay awake, to maintain focus, to not let the mind wander, to not get distracted by the pain forming in my right hip, the sweat dripping down my back (what was I thinking trying to meditate in Thailand and this heat?!) and the front row of students that never seem to move..... 

Day 4- 5 I will call my “WTF” days as each minute seemed like an hour, each second was filled with pain and the realisation that I was not even half way yet. The physical pain set in and as we started our “power hours” as I called them – an hour where we were unable to move position – I really did wonder if the pain shooting through my hips that felt like someone prodding hot knives into my butt was anything remotely like child birth.  The mind is interesting as I tried to tell myself that this was all a pointless activity, I was not gaining anything out of the process and really, it was all very boring. Nice one mind, you will try anything to get out of this, thankfully I am also pretty stubborn and not a quitter, so shut up with your negative thoughts and get on with it. 

Day 6 I finally found some relief, the body was easing into it and I by now had a nest of cushions to support every limb – hell I even had a wrist cushion in an attempt to comfort my arms. Maybe the weather changed or my aversion became less so the heat seemed not as intense, I actually on Day 6 had a fleeting thought of “wow, this is life changing, I have found bliss”. Cue record scratching sound - and by Day 7 I was smacked back into reality as my mind then went from dull and dusty to overdrive creative flow. I was going to become a motivational speaker and had word for word what I would say in my presentations, I was going to upskill the Tibetan community in work place skills and find them all gainful employment, I was going to support my teacher revolutionise the yoga world with his “Bringing Yoga to Life”  - the list went on....and how had those people in the front row still not moved?

So Day 7- 10 I moved into crazy monkey mind mode, the practice then became to not engage, not get caught up, and to not get carried away, all the while we had moved onto the actual vipasana technique of scanning the body for sensations.  Damn hard when you think you are coming up with all of the most amazing life changing and revolutionary business ideas, but also interesting to try and put it all to one side and focus on the task. By now I had two old ladies in my head – one nattering away about what we had to do next week, who did we need to buy presents for – and the other getting quite impatient saying “will you pipe down, can’t you see we are trying to mediate here??!”

It ended on Day 10 with us finally being able to talk (on retreat it is to go within so no communication, talking, reading or writing) – a small group of westerners excitedly began to share our experiences and they were all different. I didn’t have any major “stuff” I felt I had shifted nor did I think I was Jesus (sorry Laura, that is just too funny not to share) but I think somewhere amidst it I had some realisations, I took my practice to a different level, and like any feat that you set out to achieve, the feeling of accomplishment that comes with that. Will I rush back and do another one? Maybe not, but then never say never and crazier things have happened. A friend once asked his meditation teacher “did you have a good meditation” – the response from the teacher was “there is no good meditation, there is no bad meditation, there just is meditation” so based on that, my vipassana was just that, meditation.

Abhaya - Fearlessness

I bought a necklace nearly 2 years ago that has a word written in Sanskrit on it – abhaya – loosely translated as fearlessness. It was for me a reminder of living a life without fear. Something that I needed to be reminded of, daily, hence the necklace that has become a permanent fixture around my neck. I wanted to live a life full of courage and confidence, to be able to say yes instead of no and to be able to take risks. A friend asked me once what it meant, and she looked at me dumbfounded when I told her “What have you got to be afraid of??” We stood there for a few minutes, both of us in awe of each other, she simply not understanding what there could be to be afraid of and me perplexed that someone did not have fears. I replied slowly and carefully, “Where do you want me to begin? I am afraid I will have dreams that I will never achieve, of trying to achieve those dreams and failing, of being alone, of waking up one day and thinking ‘is this it?’ (which about 6 months later I did) – the list is endless....I am filled with fears, aren’t we all?” Clearly she did not share my insights into fear as she raised one eye brow and changed the subject to the weather.

 I thought long and hard about that moment, was I the only one who felt fear in this way? Maybe it was the wording I had chosen, maybe it was more like worry or concern. But still, they were fears. Deep seeded fears entrenched in my being that at times became crippling. What if I die and I didn’t get to do all the things I wanted to do? That was a fear, it was a worry and it was a concern, call it what you will, but it played on my mind. And perhaps it is partly what prompted the decision to quit my job, sell my stuff and see me set off around the world in what is proving to be a lifestyle as opposed to an extended holiday.  I like everyone else am trapped in the hope fear cycle, hoping that things will be better/different/easier and fearing that they won’t. Stuck between the past and the future and skipping over the most precious moments in time the present. 

 Spending my life the way that I do, you may think I have released these fear and live a carefree life having a wonderful time drinking coffee, attending teachings and courses and reading. For the most part I do, but I am also still caught in the vicious cycle of hope and fear – still caught in the way things “should” be and how I am “supposed” to be living my life. But today as I walked down the streets of crowded Bangkok I had a moment – I realised right here, right now, I am not afraid. I feel hopeful and excited, I feel empowered by the choices I have, I feel blessed and lucky to be born and raised in a country where I can earn enough to actually save money. I have no idea what my future holds, I have no house, no car, no things, I have no job and am slowly working on my own business that at times scares the living shit out of me (what if it fails/no one is interested/I lose money blah blah blah) but today, that is not there. Instead I feel grateful and excited like a child at Christmas, I feel more uncertain of what lies ahead than I ever have before but for once, in this tiniest of moments, it is with abhaya – fearlessness.

Two Hearts

The words form in my throat but they stick. Unsure of the sound or the shape they need to take, or how they need to be expressed. I feel like I am being pushed, pulled, twisted and turned in every direction.  Maybe it is the full moon, maybe the changeable weather, or maybe, just maybe I am in transition – yet again. This is different this time, this time the pack is being packed with a set of new feelings and emotions. Ones that are ill fitting, that are foreign, that have not really surfaced in the last 18 months. They have been bubbling away under the surface and out of confusion or fear or inability to simply deal with them, I ignore them, I stuff them back down, I suppress them. What else is there to do? Dealing with them is complicated and hard and oh so not fun. So lets stick with suppression or denial for now, much easier, much safer and much nicer all round. Or maybe not. And so I write, as maybe I can find that the words on the page will some how bring light to unfamiliar terrain I am now on, the uncertainty of the future, the feeling of heaviness I feel in my chest.  

Rationally I know this part of my trip would come to an end, that I would have to say good bye – again – to people so incredibly special to me, but yet, like life and death and everything that is so blatantly obvious in this world, I have chosen not to acknowledge that I am leaving. Everything is changing, all of the time, so why is it such a suprise when it does? Even with the knowing that I will be back, and soon, it still does not change the feeling of weirdness (I can’t find a better word, sorry) that I have this week.

The view I never tire of....

I am beginning the journey “home” but I feel like I am leaving “home”. Is it possible to be confused by the sense of home, the feeling of security, the comfort and ease and complete knowing of a place, how can it be that I have that same sense of familiarity for two places in the world? It is confusing and exciting, it is achingly sad and grin from ear to ear joyful, it is so many things in one I don’t even know where to begin. I leave India after 6 months. It has disappeared before my very eyes. I have been in McLeod Ganj for most of that time and I guess after so much time in one place you do start to get attached. Attached to my favourite coffee shop, to the boys at Cafe Budan who are like my family, to the gorgeous girls who we share are ups and downs, to the kora and the elderly Tibetans that walk that trusted path every day, the dogs at the coffee shop that are like our pets, the snow on the mountains that every day takes my breath away - familiarity, connections, comfort and ease. They are all the things that make this place feel like home. A small community that still makes me smile every time I leave my front door, I am never bored or tire of it, in fact it is the opposite. The longer I am here, the more I am a part of the community and the community is more a part of me. 

One heart is not enough

So it is confusing as I long for home in Australia, I long to see my beautiful family and cuddle my gorgeous little nephew, I can not wait to see the open plains of the Wimmera and catch a glimpse of the blue of the Grampians, to drive over Sydney harbour bridge, to go to a yoga class followed by yum dinner in Surrey Hills with the yoga girls, to catch up with the crew in Horsham and Melbourne and see how the kids have grown, to have a glass of red with my Dad and talk for hours with my Mum, to have a beer and laugh with Chandler and to go back to the blue box and see my IKEA “family” - so do not get me wrong, the feelings I have for this part of the world are only matched by the feelings I have for home. But it is weird and wonderful and also confusing. I am settling with leaving the confusion aside, there is no right or wrong or one or other, there is both. And how incredibly lucky and blessed am I to have two places that stir that feeling of connection, of unexplainable okness and safety, of comfort and of ease.  So I guess as the old saying goes, home really is where the heart is, but I have decided I just need two hearts :)

That's what friends are for

Having a chat with my dear Mum the other day, and she dropped into the conversation "Living the life you lead, I just worry that you will be lonely, all of your friends back home may have forgotten you!" She had a point, I have been gone nearly 18 months, I have missed birthdays and births, good times and bad with my beautiful kulla back home. But it made me stop and think, have I really been lonely at any point in the last 18 months? Maybe on the overnight bus leaving one place and going to another, the long haul flights, or perhaps the times I have arrived somewhere and not known a single soul. Nope. Nada. Not once could I recollect being on the road, and being lonely. Sure I miss people back home, I long to cuddle my new nephew and sit and have a wine and a chat with the girls, but I can't say I have been really and truly lonely. I have my days where I think WTF am I doing on a side of a mountain in India (as my dear friend Nikki put it) and there have been times where I have sat on my bed and cried from the sheer uncertainty of everything, but lonely, I have not felt.

Dinner out

Everywhere I have traveled, I have always met amazing, incredible, inspiring and truly beautiful people. To the point I now expect it where ever I go. Usually within days or even hours of arriving somewhere, I connect with cool people who are also on a similar path, taking time out, traveling, seeing the world, living. From all walks of life, all age brackets, all races, religions and genders - I am always surrounded by like minded people. How lucky am I. In fact, I think I felt more alone in the city of Sydney at times than I have with my back pack on my back with no fixed address. Interesting really. Even here in Mcleod, I have an amazing circle of friends - my birthday was one of those times where I really felt so incredibly lucky to have met such great people. Dinner, cake, presents....all from the clan here that are a mix of locals and expats. Friends, people who I share my life with, mates that are part of the good and the not so good. We do normal stuff, hang out, drink coffee, go to dinner and Sunday we even did brunch (how very Sydney of us). We go to yoga, philosophy class, chat about life and the stuff that makes you feel connected to people.

My birthday cake made by my friends at Cafe BuDan

And then I have the friends that come and go but are always connected where ever we are in the world. My gorgeous friends in Sydney and Melbourne who take the time to drop me an email, skype or a quick note of facebook. Ahhhh, technology, what would we do without. But the true test was recently I had a beautiful friend from Aus come to visit, it was like I had only seen her yesterday. No distance or time will test true friends. So Mum, I know you are worried, but I am each day grateful and thankful to the amazing people that come into my life each day, who keep me sane (Catherine) and who share the ride, and who remind that no matter where you are, true friends are like gold. So thank you to all of the beautiful people in my life, you keep me from ever being lonely :)

How to get a yoga butt

A few years ago, a yoga teacher confided in me that she knew a fellow yoga teacher that “didn’t have a typical yoga teachers body”. As someone who was about to embark on their training, and who does not have a “typical yoga teachers body” I was deeply worried by the comment. Firstly because I desperately wanted to learn more about yoga and the best way to do that seemed to be to undertake teacher training (I had no intention of actually teaching) and I could not stand on my head – I was already paranoid that I would be surrounded by amazing yoga practitioners that could manoeuvre their bodies into pretzel like positions, and secondly I had finally in my 30’s decided to like the curves and realise I was never going to have a wash board stomach no matter how many crunches I did at the gym (and trust me I had tried). Fortunately for me I landed myself some pretty amazing teachers who did not really care if I could stand on my head or the state of my stomach and taught me what yoga is, and perhaps what it is not. As my teacher Mark Breadner so aptly put it “putting your leg behind your head will not make you a better person.”  His teachings on yoga opened my world into the ancient science and I feel incredibly blessed to have met such an amazing teacher.  I quickly learnt that “the typical yoga teachers body” was not an indication of a realised being.

Having just come from Rishikesh, the “home” of yoga, I can not help but feel a little jaded by what has become of yoga. Pictures of people in contortion plaster the walls in Rishikesh advertising teacher training. Clearly they are targeting what westerners come in search of. Yoga teacher training is the new “thing” to do whilst on your gap year,  and of course your stay in India is not complete without visiting one of the many ashrams. Perhaps the final straw was after a nice Hatha Yoga class, a gushy student was praising the “amazing instructions and incredible adjustments” that the teacher had given. The so called amazing adjustments nearly put my neck out, and once again, I am reminded of how fortunate I was to receive such clear, comprehensive and careful asana instructions from the incredible Nicole Goodwin. 

My fellow travel companion (who coincidentally I met on the teacher training course a few years ago) and I were left feeling, well perhaps disappointed. Not to say that you can not find teachings on the sutra’s or the ancient texts, but it appeared that what the market was asking for was asana. Or should I say body contortion, it was beginning to feel a little like a Cirque de Soleil recruitment drive. I think it was the movie “Alfie” that Jude Law quips about the “best thing about the latest yoga craze is the yoga butt”. Funnily enough he could not be closer to the truth in some cases. Yoga is becoming a physical exercise class and the principles and teachings are getting lost amidst the desire to twist and turn your body into crazy and in many cases unsafe moves and to get the allusive yoga butt.

One way to get a yoga butt....to sit on it :)

Some of the most amazing teachings I have received on yoga have come from teachers that have a great yoga butt. Simply because they have sat on it and done the work, not the body contortion, but the meditation, the study, the introspection, the stuff that gets you closer to the point of yoga – to be in union, to join, to yoke. I learned an incredible amount from people like Mark and also Swami J (his website is amazing, please check it out if you are interested) and his butt is perhaps not trim, taught and terrific - sorry Swami J :) - but it is in my humble opinion closer to yoga than a Manduka mat and Lululemon gear will ever be.