Daring to dream

So much for blogging again, I must admit it is not due to writers block, on the contrary, I am in overload with things to write about. But where to begin? Do I share the daily teachings on Shantideva's Way of the Bodhisatva that manage to inspire me and hit home every day (I have started my study at the Tibetan Library and Archives here in Dharamsala) Or perhaps the realisation that it is 2 years since I handed in my resignation and embarked on what has become a life changing experience? Or simply the fact that on my walk to the library this morning I found myself nearly in tears - simply from joy in feeling so god damn happy.

I figure I just start somewhere and the rest will follow, it usually does. Things form in a direction and you may not realise it at the time, but they are making shapes for futures we are not even aware. I had one of those moments today, standing on the side of my mountain thinking "how did I end up here?"  A ridiculous grin on my face as I skipped over the road that has been swept away by the monsoonal rains. A grin that is spontaneous and a permanent fixture even with the constant rain and in turn soggy shoes. "How did I end up on the side of a mountain in India??" Had you have told me this time last year I would be here today, back on the side of this mountain I would not have believed you. Hell, 2 years ago I was still not sure that I would in fact pack in the corporate gig, sell my stuff and really put on a back pack and head off. Sure, it was a nice idea, in fact it was a lovely idea, but for real? I didn't think I had the balls. But turns out I did. Or maybe you could say I had the stupidity, but either way it brings me here, to this side of the mountain in the north of India.

However, maybe,  just maybe I did know I was going to end up here. A funny story that perhaps I can share with you. Whilst I was home I had the fun job of sorting through my "stuff". The random 10 + boxes and bags of clothes that I had stored in my sisters roof. Vinnies (a charity) received another shipment of the clothes I had little use for, when you have spent 18 months with one bag you soon realise how little you really need, and I didn't even touch most of the boxes. I ran out of steam.  But I did come across some things I found interesting and perhaps useful. A hair dryer that is now necessary for my longer locks, my favourite hoody that I have bought back (although white is really not a great colour for India) and a dream book I had started about 3-4 years ago. A book that I used to write down all of my dreams for the future, what I wanted my life to look like, the places I wanted to go, the goals I wanted to achieve, the house I want to live in - it has it all.  As I opened the first page, here is what I found.

Now you may not find that unusual, plenty of people have long term desires to travel to far off lands, but to be honest, my head was never filled with a longing for India, Nepal and Tibet. It just so happened that the day I started my book there was a travel feature in the paper on the region. Nepal was on my list of places to return to, but India was an afterthought. And Tibet? It sounded exotic. Here I am, living on one side of the mountains to all 3 of those countries, within a Tibetan community, surrounded by prayer flags and in fact studying Tibetan Buddhism. And in the last year I have been to all 3 countries.

But perhaps the most interesting page was the drawing I had made of mountains. I have always loved the mountains and would say I am a mountain person over a beach one - I guess it is in my blood, my family has spent many generations at the foot of the Grampians in Victoria. But this sketch has a resemblance to something else, don't you think???

The view from my balcony - sunset at monsoon

 

 

 

 

The view non monsoonal

So maybe on some level I did know that I would end up here - happy dreaming everyone :)

Welcome back old friend

I have been a bit distracted of late - time in Sydney with family and friends, play dates with my beautiful nephew and then I have also been spending time on everything else but writing, or practicing, or working or studying or anything really. Sure it is a lovely distraction to sing to a sweet little boy, but now that I am back in McLeod Ganj and I no longer have morning cuddles with my nephew, I am trying to come back to what I know. I am back in my favourite coffee shop in my favourite town in the north of India. Cafe Budan is the same, the boys are all still here, and I feel like in ways I never left. I have even moved back into my old apartment which I just love. I love the familiarity, the view, those mountains that look so magical now as they are permanently surrounded in mist of the delayed monsoon. The place is slightly surreal as the rains have come and bought with them a freshness to the air and a greenness to the mountains. It is breath takingly beautiful and each day I wake and watch the colour of the sky slowly change from dark to light as the soft gentle rain falls and the trees start to make form through the dense fog. Beautiful. Breath taking. And I can't believe I am here, it is magical.

I even rolled out my yoga mat, something I am trying to do each day. Whether it is for 5 minutes or 50, I am slowly breathing life back into my tight hamstrings and loosening the tension in between my shoulders with gentle and slow movements. Nothing fancy, nothing radical,  but simply moving with my breath, watching my mind, and allowing my body to sigh. A big long sigh as the stiffness starts to flow and the past 2 months of good times and indulgence of food and wine and catching up with loved ones start to slip away. After the movement, comes the pranayam, the breath and finally the cherry on top, the silence, the mediation, the stilling the mind. It is amazing how the body never forgets a Surya Namaskar sequence, and groans in protest to a long hip opening, and my mind settles into the space that it is oh so familiar. We have been here before, we know the drill, it is like seeing an old friend. No matter how long the distance, no matter how much time has passed, old friends never forget, they never grow weary or kick you to the curb because you have neglected them, they simply welcome you with open arms and show you nothing but love.

McLeod has welcomed me with open arms, and so to my yoga mat. Like friendships that stand the test of time, I know I can be myself and slip back into our familiar pattern. Bliss.