MAJORING IN MINOR THINGS

Singing in the rain

There is a guy here in Edmonton who dances joyously on the corner of heavy traffic on 178 Street, to the beat of his iPod. I admit he is a bit of a nut, as he wildly dances and sings, as though he was a star on stage for all to applaud. He was even on the news once. People love him because of his carefree and upbeat attitude, a reminder to all our sour driving faces to lighten up.

There he was the other day, singing in the rain, happy as can be, oblivious to the wars raging around the planet, or in homes across the city. I tried taking a picture, but when I rolled down the window, he suddenly stopped and stared directly at me. I ruined his fun, so I couldn't do it!
(Check out http://blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-4DB7pd8zd6ls2BZWxlb1T_Wp9s_yd3M-?cq=1&p=1493 for a video!!!)

"A man is what he thinks all day long."
~Emerson

Rule Number Six

I've been alot lighter in attitude since being back from India. The kids and I call it 'Rule Number Six'. There is a story of an executive who sat in his office. People would storm in, yell and freak out and he would calmly remind them of rule number 6. They would instantly calm down and leave the office. A curious witness asked what rule number 6 was. It translated to: 'Don't take yourself so G'***m seriously!' And what are the other rules he asked? There aren't any the boss replied!

I used this once with my daughter's teacher. She asked my daughter and her friend to write an apology letter for looking at another girl 'funny' and making her upset. I wrote on the back of the note I was supposed to sign; Rule Number 6. I think the teacher was horrified at first, but later had my daughter announce it to the class. A good lesson for all. I remember to ask myself, "Am I majoring in minor things?"


“Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely.”


For any of you who read my orange meditation, it reminds me of another analogy; that we are all like oranges. When we are 'squeezed' by life's pressures, what is inside comes out. "If I have truly cultivated serenity, kindness and self control, only those wonderful qualities will appear. If negative qualities come out, I still have some work to do on my journey to personal mastery." (Robin Sharma)

Events are learning experiences, with no right nor wrong. Many times we need to 'win', with someone being right or wrong. Funny enough, Damian and I had this debate... I admit there may be good and evil in this world, however, I look at what is learned from a sour event, rather than who is right. I am finding that it becomes a growth experience on life's journey, rather than a hindrance to peace. Another Robin Sharma gem: It's not the snake bite that kills, its the poisonous venom that circulates afterwards in the blood stream that is fatal.

“It's not what we eat but what we digest that makes us strong; not what we gain but what we save that makes us rich; not what we read but what we remember that makes us learned; and not what we profess but what we practice that gives us integrity.”
~Francis Bacon, Sr.

CREDIT CARD SWIPE

(Archived from my journal July 19-07)

The Ayurvedic massage...

Since I am missing physical touch and my hamstrings and hips moan from yoga and air travel, I decide to hit the Indian massage parlour. By luck, an appointment is available- 500 rupees for 1.5 hours = $15 CDN? Sold!

Its a business house a few blocks from Anu's Bamboo Hut restaurant. Open and breezy with flowing curtains on the arched doorways. The doors are carved wood and the floors are white marble, like everywhere in India. I ask to use the loo and do the squat and hover method with my pants rolled over my knees. My pashmina and purse are strung around my neck as there is no hook nor counter and the floor is wet with who knows what! I am in bare feet. Yuck!

They call for my massage. "Lady to lady, or man to man." The male receptionist says. In the room, two young Indian girls who look 16 politely ask me to disrobe. They stand a foot away from me, staring as I hesitantly undress. "Everything?" I ask. "Yes Madam." As I get down to nothingness, one lady wraps a cheesecloth loincloth G-string around my waist and crotch. So Tarzan! They stare at my white skin and bare breasts with wide eyes, unashamed of staring. They whisper to each other in their language throughout the session. They sit me on a stool and begin the head massage. The other girl stands in front of me watching. They are tiny, maybe four foot ten. I sit in my loincloth which doesn't cover much and wonder what they think of the Canadian girl with the Asian tattoo and the lasered bikini line. I sit proudly, unconcerned by their judgments, amused, as I know I will never see them again.

I am asked to get on the wooden lacquered antique carved table. I am kneeling on all fours, in my loincloth, trying to maneuver with my butt on display, as I crawl on my hands and knees. "No Madam- on back," they direct. I flip over and they drizzle me with hot oil, like a Christmas turkey being basted. They begin their work in tandem fashion, with a 'mirror image' massage.



With light fingertip pressure, they massage my knees and I giggle as it tickles, and squirm with laughter. The bast part is when they swirled their fingers in a rough motion in clockwise circles around my belly button. Then up the arms and cracking my fingers. I love the foot massage, but remember them on the dirty bathroom floor and having it spread over my body!

They flip me over and put dirty sponges under my pressure points, against the hardness of the table. My hipbones and ankles still dig into the wood. The oil smells of coffee, coconut and mint, almost as though someone was baking. I ask the ingredients and they just say, "Medicated oil."

The one girl's fingers keep finding their way up between my legs in uncomfortable folds. I call it the 'credit card swipe' because they are running their hands up and down my body, head to toe, rapidly. I try to release myself from the moment and not make it anything more, dwelling on her wandering fingers. I think how gross it is how they rubbed my feet, dirty from the bathroom and the outdoors, and then my body and face. Asian music plays in the background, as I flip over again, trying to manage the oily, soggy G-string now dangling uselessly between my legs.

Next, is the sit up steam box. The room now smells of cooking vegetables, perhaps squash or another muddy garden aroma. I sit on a metal stool, on a dirty dishtowel, in my strip of saturated muslin. The door shuts guillotine style with a hole around my neck. Another grayed and oily tea towel is wrapped around my neck to hold in the steam. I don't even entertain the idea of whether they have been washed between multiple clients. This is India I smile to myself.

Ten minutes of hot steam wafts around my body. I try to chat with the girls. "Your English is pretty good...where did you learn? School?" I inquire, impressed.

"Yes Madam." They have soft voices and flirtatious brown eyes. They glance up daintily, batting their lashes. It is their demeanor, nothing more. I ask how old they are, they look so young. They say twenty-one. I talk about Canada; the snow, the clean air, the low population. I ask if they are married. No, they say. They talk about the importance of dowry, in gold. I ask about nose piercings, which all the women have in India (piercings are done at the hospital). "If you like it , you do it. If you don't like, you don't do." I ask about bindis. "You do if you like?" I ask and they giggle.

Time is up and I am dripping with sweat. I step out and get toweled off like a queen but with dirty towels. My hair is wrapped in an oily bun from the Indian head massage. One girl tried to take it out, but I say no. I don't want oil all over my clothes. She adds more oil and a brown powder to my part. (This is traditional here for ladies to put a coloured powder down their part.)

I am dressed and done and pay. Am I missing some 500 rupees? Not worth the fuss. I chat with the Ayurvedic Doctor and they give me murky warm tea to cleanse my system further. I drink and he wants to give me another. I'm feeling groggy, have I been drugged? I decline the 2nd as I start to get suspicious (OK paranoid!)

The Doctor talks to me about treatment packages to support the yoga. I don't feel it necessary. I leave and expect to collapse on the street, delirious from the sedative I delusionally suspect they put in my tea.

I get home safe and secure without passing out. I shower the oil from my body and hair and wonder what is next on my adventure list? I think body waxing. (See August 6 'KAIZEN' blog of mine) It has grown a week and needs to be ripped from its follicles. I feel prettier now that I have been molested by two 21 year old Indian chicks. I'm nice and clean with my hair in a braid like an Indian woman. I keep reminding myself: "I'm in India!!!"

A few weeks later, Rachel and I run into the Ayurvedic Doctor on the street. He asks why I have not been back for more rub downs.

"Did you not receive satisfaction?" He queries in his staccato Indian accent.

I look at him like he grew two heads. "Satisfaction???" What kind of satisfaction are we talking about? Was there more to the story? What did I miss? I am not that desperate!

Rachel still laughs at the ambiguity, repeating in perfect Indian accent..."Did you not receive satisfaction?"

For more ayurvedic info:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ayurveda

OM SWEET OM

I'm trying to find my India in Canada. I still wear my bindi around and its pretty cute for Indian women to do a double take and smile a secret smile when they see a white girl in Edmonton donning the Indian tradition. I hope its not sacrilege or an insult, but I find it a good keepsake or souvenir from my wonderful trip. ***(See Bindi definition below)

Its also a reminder about not eating meat anymore, for some strange reason, the desire has left me. When I understand it in the terms of not causing suffering, it has more meaning. Anyone who has seen "Fast Food Nation" showing cows slaughtered at the meat packing plant, know what I mean. The worst was when Damian and I were in Cuba last winter. We witnessed 2 pigs being tortured, as they were hauled off on the back of bicycles, dehydrated and screaming like human babies, going to be roasted for a party.

Since being home, I have noticed a few other changes. Gratitude is very apparent in my mind. I cherish being with Damian once again, as well as stopping and hugging my kids as often as I can.

“God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today. Have you used one to say "thank you?"
~William Arthur Ward

Stopping to 'bless' my food and giving thanks before I eat is also important to me. Savouring the art of eating; tastes, smells, textures, and temperature. It reminds me of a dear yogi friend who captivated me with a simple meditation technique:

Holding an orange, feel it's texture, shape and skin. Feel the weight of the orange in your hand, as you stop and think about where the orange has been. The country, town or orchard it is conceived in, sprouting on a tree in the sunshine. Growing larger everyday amongst the wind, rain and leaves, ripening on the branch. Think about the person who picked the orange and packed it on a truck to travel the thousands of miles to get to you in that moment. Now in your hands, focus your intent as you peel the orange. Juice runs down your fingers, as you section the orange. Tasting the orange, it bursts in your mouth with sweet citrus tang. Savouring each chew on your tongue, aware of swallowing the flesh.

And so on! You can do it with anything, but the idea is to be thankful and enjoy!

...and thats what I am doing at home. Chelsie, my good friend and mother of 3 boys, said how envious she was of me having Lexi as a daughter. She said she longs for a daughter who wants to sit and have tea with her. I never realized how someone else who 'appears to have it all', longs for something that I take for granted. Sometimes it takes the absence of that beloved thing to make the heart grow fonder...

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. ~Thornton Wilder

***"Why Bindi? Bindi is derived from the Sanskrit word "Bindu" or a drop, it is supposed to signify the mystic third eye of a person and therefore, when properly marked, becomes the central point of the base of the creation itself. It is a symbol of auspiciousness, good fortune and festivity.

The very positioning of the bindi is significant. The area between the eyebrows is the seat of latent wisdom. This area is known as the "Agna" (6th chakra) meaning "command". It is said to control various levels of concentration attained through meditation. The central point of this area is the "Bindu" wherein all experience is gathered in total concentration. Tantric tradition has it that during meditation, the "kundalini" - the latent energy that lies at the base of the spine is awakened and rises to the point of sahasrara (7th chakra) situated in the head or brain. The central point, the bindu, becomes therefore a possible outlet for this potent energy. It is believed that the red kumkum lies between the eyebrows to retain energy in the human body.

Myths and Significance - The color red
The colour red is significant. Red represents Shakti (strength). Red, it is believed, symbolizes love. Some scholars have seen the red colour as a symbolism for blood. We are told that in ancient times, in Aryan society, a groom used to apply his blood, on his bride's forehead as recognition of wedlock.

It denotes the woman's married status in most of the North Indian communities but in South India it is a prerogative of all girls to wear a bindi.

The bindi, today is a fashion statement. Bindi, on the beloved's forehead is supposed to mesmerise her lover. The bindi still attracts a lot of attention, as it is the first thing that catches our eye. This little dot has always received a place of importance in Indian customs. The bindi carries with it a wealth of meaning and is an on-going link with a very ancient tradition and past." (Shaadi.com)

INVOLUTION

The inner quest for growth and evolution.

On my first morning in Mysore, the cook serves me chai tea and Yashoda, my house mom and I sit and chat about activities in town. Ayurvedic clinics, Chamundi hill and Mysore temple.

Yashoda also comes to my room every night to chat. She talks to me in the mornings and when I arrive home. I think she likes to see what is going on in the room I'm renting, snooping in a loving way. She will even peek into my shopping bags to see what I have purchased. One night she asks if I had a good day and if I have made any friends. I say "No I am not here to make friends" and smile. She scolds me in her sweet insistence and says it takes time but it is important to make friends.

My intention was to journey alone. To get away from the personal and business demands and chaos with people at home. I wanted an inward journey to find that relationship within myself that has disintegrated throughout the years; dissolved into the lives of others through a sort of 'loving others osmosis'. To force myself to endure coming face to face with any fears or other character flaws that are so easily acquired in Western life.

I set new intentions on meeting a new friend...a kindred yoga sister spirit. Thankfully, the universe spilled over and I did discover a few of those wonderful like minded hearts and spirits that I was able to connect with.

One of these comrades profoundly commented on how easily we reach for the phone, reach for the TV, or reach for friends and family when life is boring or a struggle. In India, one has to reach inside themselves. To that deeper part that is so easily forgotten or abandoned, in favour of the easy things that feel good. Sometimes whats inside is not a pretty sight, and we avoid at all costs from briefly glancing into that mirror of our souls. Other distractions include alcohol, eating, socializing, exercise...there are many ways to evade reality!

Many times, I just sat back and observed myself in 'the situation'. (Very interesting if you have ever done this, if not try it!) I was at the local coffee stand, or what I call the Mysore Starbucks, tongue-in-cheek. In reality, it is a fly-infested hole in the wall with a patio out front, where I would sit and have my morning masala chai tea, with foul smelling mud, litter and dogs at my feet. Groups of Indian richshaw drivers and local men folk, loudly chatter and visit. I drink in the sights and the scalding sourish milk concoction, from a small shot glass. Sometimes I take 2 to-go and return the tiny glasses later in the day.

One morning a large group of Western yogis sat and animately converse on the patio. The Indian boy set my 2 chais on a table beside the group. I went with the moment, sat by myself and observed. I was fascinated, as I consciously viewed my emotions as they floated through my body. Not being part of the group felt odd, but good in a way. I was awakened to the awareness of all that was going on around me and in me. I thought- How would I react if they invited me over? How would I feel if they didn't? Normally, I would walk over and join in, being the socializer I am known to be. But it was all about being in the moment without being caught up in it. Sitting back, I calmly contemplated and recognized those needs and fears that link us as humans. I highly recommend it sometime!

Other times, I observed the conversations around me. The empty prattle, I was very familiar with as I myself have felt the need to talk just to fill the void air. Overhearing meaningless conversations, I begins to wonder, Why, as I take in whole discussions about useless nothingness.

In Kerela, Rachel and I had a meditative quiet moment on the beach. We faced the sea, closed our eyes with hands in prayer position, reflecting on the moment and being grateful. We are both standing there in complete stillness for about 15 minutes, when a 'snap' stirs my attention. I look beside me and an Indian man is putting away his camera and walking away. I think, hey I've just been 'karma-lized'! Since I had taken so many pictures of the locals, one snapped a picture of the two praying white girls on the beach.

Friends in Mysore comment on how I am so inquisitive, always asking questions and taking notes. Deep questions like, what would you do if you had six months to live? Or, what would you do if you won a million dollars? I find it fascinating as you really tap into what a person is really about. What lights their fire- passions, interests and treasures. "I get it!" One friend comments. She figures out since I am a writer and in media and TV that I am used to digging and prying and many people are not comfortable with that. Another says I am inquisitive and expect things from people. Hmmm...I have found though that some are dying to be heard and have a story to tell. And I get my pen out...


"The teacher points the way, but we must do our own traveling."
~Buddha

MAHENDI

(Archived from my journal August 9,07)

Puttie is giving me a 'Mahendi' /henna tattoo on my feet. When she picks me up on her scooter at my house, she looks 14. I find out later she is 23. Everyone here looks so young!

We arrive at her house and she offers for her brother to go get me some take out food. Declining, I sit on her bed like a teenage friend and put my feet on her henna stool. On a laptop, a Bollywood movie soundtrack plays as Puttie sings along happily in a confidence not normally seen in the West. As I look around I ask why all the windows have bars in India. She is perplexed and asks "Do they not have bars in Canada? Just plain glass?" Apparantly it is for security...I laugh and inquire if it is to keep the snakes out. She said yes! She has seen them as big as my ankle!


My house in India...bars everywhere

I ask her about life and boys and I am surprised about how open she is as she goes into detail about falling in love. What a drama! Puttie explains how she met a boy of another caste in college and when her parents found out, they made her quit school and forbid her to see the boy again. She says her brother also is having an 'affair', meaning a girlfriend from another caste. The parents know and are trying to force him to break up but he refuses. Puttie supports him: "I help all lovers who love and don't believe in castes. I loved a man for 4 years but my parents didn't allow. We may have promised not to meet but he is still in my mind."

Puttie's parents are still looking for a husband. They have tried to force her already and she flat out refused, saying that she will live at home forever and never marry. If she moves out alone, she can only afford an ashram or hostel and that would embarrass her parents as they are responsible and if anyone sees her there it is bad. I ask if others run away and marry and she says, yes, but that is no respect for parents...she'll be happy alone. Her mother knows what they have done is wrong, but the Dad is strict about the caste.

Typically, the boy comes to meet the selected bride, and if he likes and all the parents like, they marry, despite what the girl thinks. She has no choice- its the parents choice, but sometimes the man is given the choice by the parents. Some men ask for a dowry. Her cousin's husband didn't ask for a dowry...she says he is a good man.

"I don't think I'll love again- I missed one and my heart is full of him. I have alot of sweet memories. Now, my parents think I'm happy and have forgotten him, but I'm not.

I ask her if she thinks about Western ways of love and she says yes, but it too may still fail. There are few divorces in Southern India she assures me. Puttie asks how we marry in Canada and I say whomever we want. She asks, "No problem with parents?" I laugh and say no, they really don't care, but maybe they should. After all don't your parents know you best and what is best for you? I wonder how my life would be different if it was an arranged marriage. No sex before marriage in India and Puttie is shocked when I ask. She looks at me in horror and asks if they do in Canada?

Her mother brings me a hot tea and I wonder if she is listening to our candid conversation. With working from 5:30 am to 2 pm, tutoring students in the evenings, plus henna tattoos, Puttie's schedule is too full for men. When speaking of her students, she says not all kids can go to school here. The school may be free but the parents can't afford the other fees and uniforms associated with going to school. This explains all the children I see selling flowers on the street, working in stores and begging.


Puttie at work

She scrolls on the thin tube of henna paste and explains that if the design gets really dark it means your husband will love you lots and he is a good man.

"Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care.
But for another give it's ease
And builds a heaven in hell's despair."
~William Blake

Three hours later, her brother walks us to my house. I am barefoot waiting for the henna to dry. Puttie is scared to walk at night, maybe its the snakes, or maybe the boys. I think about the snakes too, but more about my barefeet on Indian streets.

Everything beautiful has to be worked for...

On the flight from India to Dubai, I chat with an Indian man. He talks about his wife and their arranged marriage. He says it took him 7 months to fall in love with her.

LANDING IN INDIA

(Archived from my journal July 15-07)

The clouds break as my plane prepares to land in India. The earth is rusty red just like my dream! Random patches and gridded squares of sand and rock are penetrated by random mountains. I see a heart shaped field amid a forest of palm trees and what looks like a granite quarry. I must admit I am feeling much better now about my decision. Throughout the trip I was having anxiety about what I had been thinking and what was I doing.

The madness erupts when I get off the plane. People pushing and shoved up against the baggage carousel as I try to get my luggage. It is 6:30 pm India time (7 am Edmonton time) and I am exhausted. I come out of the airport and see Indians crammed up against bar rails, many with signs and names. A man comes up and asks to take my bags and I say no repeatedly, as he insists. Another asks if I need a taxi and is shooed away by another. I see my name on a card and feel like a celebrity! Relief. I nod and the small brown man looks as though he won the lottery. As I ask him who sent him, our language barrier is choppy and I see it is difficult for him to understand. We are both frustrated.

He takes my suitcase and I attempt to have him write his name, address of where we are going and license number down for me as security. He does not understand. I call over the airport policeman, dressed in beige and carrying a baton, and he asks if everything is OK. I request for him to take the driver's information down for my protection, as the driver panics and calls Murthy, my travel agent who sent him. We finally translate that it is for my safety I am doing this, not to get him in trouble. The policeman must have seen this before, as he tries to make small talk, asking me about Canada and how I like Bangalore. I finally hop in the car and we are off on the 4 hour drive to Mysore.



First thoughts:

I love it! India is an assault on the senses. It's polluted and loud; busy with traffic and people. Litter and motorized rickshaws are everywhere, set against beautiful architecture in decaying opulence. I realize at this moment that I care more about decorating my passport than houses. Cows and dogs wander the streets, horns incessantly honk in the chaos, weaving in and out like a well-habited system. Right hand drive mini cars, drive on the right side, beside the scooters and crammed buses that share the road with truck loads of people. Colourfully carved ashrams, fruit stands and women in flowing saris embellish the streets. A blur of teal, mint green, fuschia and purple goes by, against Christmas lights and Indian music.

Night falls and the drowsiness overtakes me as I fall asleep in the back of the car. I keep bolting up randomly with the sound of car horns, then fall back down heavily, burdened by 3 days travel. we arrive at my house and I meet my house mother and her mother. The place is beautiful with a heavy, carved wooden door and floors in white marble tile. She hands me a large, old fashioned key and then tells me to 'take rest'.

INDIA CALLING

The following paper was written in June 07 for a writing course I was taking at the University of Alberta. The other students chided me for being in 'crisis', lovingly criticizing me for being an uncaring mother...



THE HOMELESS INTERIOR DESIGNER

REHABITAT




The word ‘alone’, broken down is ‘all in one’, meaning there is no more division. In my dreams, I’ve flown over India, solitary in an airplane, in awe of the sprawling land below. I see mountain ranges in amber, and the sunset sands of a nation I long to visit. Villages and buildings so removed from the urban landscape of the Canadian prairies. I’ve walked beside a river in these dreams, quite possibly the Ganges, along a path, speaking with locals of a different culture and experience. People float by in yoga ‘asanas’, in beautiful poses. As ridiculous as dreams may be, they are a hybrid or an illusion of what we experience in everyday life. For never even being to the sub-continental part of the world, I see it vividly in my mind’s eye. India is calling and the voice, perhaps it is my own inner one, is becoming stronger everyday.

In my land and reality, I live in a booming oil economy, with Alberta’s construction industry bursting at the seams with soaring real estate prices and population increases. As a local interior design consultant I have cashed in on the explosion by providing the homeowner services of beautifying residences with all of the lavish luxuries that a surging income brings to the average Edmontonian. As a very social person, I have always been surrounded by people; friends, clients, my children or various partners in life. The desire to be isolated in this experience is a conundrum.

With four children of my own, running in all directions with society’s expectations of music lessons and sports activities, my passion for yoga has brought me to a new self-awareness and a minimalist lifestyle. Realizing a false sense of living, the fake nails were the first to go. I was in downward dog, and was staring down at these ridiculous plastic fingernails one day and it occurred to me how absurd life had become. Everything was so phony and the fake nails were the first sign. Now, I’m proud now of what have been called my ‘lesbian’ finger nails or that of a hard working woman. It’s real. People comment all the time about how I need to get my nails done for TV or work…I just laugh! Now, my vision is to look at how ninety percent of the rest of the world lives; extreme poverty and pain, while we ponder for a week about what colour of granite counter tops to put in our kitchen.

My dream takes shape as I plan to give away belongings, sell the family home and send the kids to live with Dad for a few weeks, as the first steps to realizing this aspiration. Traveling to India to practice yoga and research homes is just a glimpse into how most of the world lives in a third world country. I long to peer inside the lives, the ghettos, the orphanages, the granite factories and all of the other unseen realities we have turned a blind eye to in climbing the ladder to the illusion of success. Going undercover, I visualize child labour camps where Persian rugs are handmade in child sweat shops and then adorn the floors of the affluent.

With Oprah as my biggest muse, I have been enlightened with the ambition of one day being a guest on her show, revealing my adventures as the homeless interior designer. There have been many times when I’ve stopped what I was doing, staring glued to the television with tears streaming down my face, as I listen to the atrocities brought into human suffering. Female circumcisions, women being stoned to death for adultery and child prostitution, are just the tip of the iceberg. I picture myself being a vigilante and saving all of the poor souls afflicted by the world’s woes. I imagine environmental issues in other nations will also be brought to light, and I can share my experiences with those around me.

During the exploration into other cultural lifestyles, I anticipate being homesick surviving the trials and tribulations of culture shock, revealed through journaling, tears and confessions during this process of self-discovery. Traveling through many towns and villages, discovering the splendor of historical places like Jaipur, the ‘Pink City’, Bombay and the tropical beaches of the Arabian Sea, my journal and camera capture the beauty of ancient architecture and artifacts. Through the ultimate sacrifice of family and a financially secure lifestyle, I anticipate discovering the true meaning of life through my travels, taking myself and my readers on a trip of a lifetime.

The first step begins. My house is officially for sale and the process begins. It’s interesting how easy it is to let go of the attachments. Clothes and toys are donated with joy, as I feel I am blessing others with the ‘stuff’ that no longer serves me. I think about the money I have made on this house and think I could easily live comfortably for six years or so. What about when I return? Will it be foolish to squander the investment and start from scratch again? The promise of riches and reward remind me with the proceeds of a book, to sustain me, as I let go once again of any fear of lack.

Tonight, I return from a trip in the mountains with my life partner and soul mate. Although we are officially broken up, we are still madly in love and the best of friends. Our relationship has never been better. Perhaps this was the catalyst after almost four years of ups and downs and heartache, to finally let go and find that relationship deep within myself.

As I arrive home, I realize that there is no place like home. It is so nice to have a place to come home to, with all of the familiar belongings to greet me, and two cats that bring life to an otherwise quiet space. One cat, Scout, my baby whom I watched being born, loves me with incredible affection. I feel sad in knowing that I will have to find homes for both of these two little souls. Paris, my other kitty has no desire for human contact. My daughter quips that she treats our house like a hotel. Only coming home to eat and sleep. Then there is my old faithful black lab Justus, who has been through it all in the last eight years, and thinks he is a triplet to my twin boys. He was a puppy when they were just ten months old and they loved to love him with all of the roughness that little boys are known for. The kids are at their Dad’s tonight, a relief in knowing there will be less stress in the morning rush of Mondays. Still, my home is just another thing or belonging that needs to be maintained, paid for and cleaned. After staying in a hotel, luxury life, with other people who serve, clean and cook for you, it is easy to get accustomed to. Now in my own home, I contemplate what it will be like to be homeless, as I nestle into the soft down depths of my king sized bed.

Pet update: Scout ran away from the sitter's and Paris' new owner had to put her down due to illness. She now resides on the great scratching post in the sky. Justus, the lab runs free on a farm and is welcome to come home whenever we decide:)

KEEP SHINING

“Solid like a mountain,
Soft like a cloud.
I sit and await the unfolding.”

~ Bai Yuen ~


Getting back into the groove of work and life has been a difficult transition. I decided to just run away from the looming work load of the fall design rush ahead of me. I have been avoiding returning phone calls and establishing the business mindset once again. I am really thinking now I want to be a yoga teacher...allowing to escape back into the seductive lifestyle of India with the shala being the focal point of the day. I fantasize about living a modest life in India with my hippie kids and boyfriend enjoying the leisurely, simple lifestyle alongside me.

Damian and I took the kids to Canmore in the mountains for the weekend for a vacation from my summer vacation. The smell of autumn is already in the air, while the leaves have become golden in some areas. School and winter will be around the corner sooner than I hope.

As easy as it has been to slip back into the familiarity of Canada, India has definitely had an impact. A group of people started fighting with a waitress in a restaurant we were dining in. Their negative energies started to escalate, feeding from each other, as the waitress and the two other ladies irrationally defended their egos. Damian and I just laughed and appreciated our awareness of the silliness of why people get so worked up over being right, and about winning. Also, about our needs 'needing' to be catered to.

I also noticed that wherever I get away to, we are still creatures of habit. I go on a holiday and still seek out the familiarity of 'creature comforts'. We want to travel to foreign places, while still habituating and patronizing mindsets. My sweet tooth shamelessly sucked back Starbucks Tazo Chais, to my chagrin, scoping out other chain stores on the scenic drive. The bottom line at the end of the day, is we all want the same things...our pattern and penchants. When we don't get them in the manner or timing we demand, we fight absurdly with other humans sharing the earth to get our way.

Oxymoronic...Another thing I noticed is our method of 'credit card living'. Enjoy now, pay later, because we deserve it. Or at least that is what the advertisers have told and sold us. Delayed gratification seems no longer a virtue. Even though enjoying now comes with high interest rates, we are too busy enraptured by the abundance of choice. Its about loving what you have not having what you love:)

I awoke in the middle of the night with this poem of sorts...


Talk less, eat less,

sleep less, drive less,

shop less, plan less,

want less, use less.



Read more, hug more,

love more, cry more,

see more, give more,

walk more, think more,

share more, breath more.

Be more.





"On the planet today over 1 billion people will go to bed hungry tonight. There are children without food. People are being locked up and being tortured in prisons. Others, imprisoned in hospital rooms struggling to survive...

"Wisdom without execution is worthless." ~Robin Sharma

I hope to teach my children the significance of everything that I've experienced over the last few weeks.

TYPE 'A' TO TYPE 'Z'

My blog has been a great daily writing discipline. It was one of my goals to set aside time everyday to write, and India was an excellent awakening influence. Friends and family are also asking me if I will continue as it has become a bit of a soap opera! And so the sprouting sage saga continues...

I went to yoga last night for the first time back. Despite jet lag, travel tightness and a hamstring 'on strike', I thought I should continue with my India inspired daily practice. Before, I was soooo impatient and would push myself into poses. This time, I gently just went into the poses with grace and ease, not minding how far and deep I could go. I actually felt more flexible in certain poses and blissful at the end. Finally a savasana that I fell deeply into. Not like the 2 minute savasana at the shala...

I copied this beautiful excerpt from Tara Bray, Shambhala Sun, July 2003:

"I've finished my two-hour ashtanga practice, and my hair is soaked in sweat. Every inch of my body is exhausted. I lie down on my mat, open my palms for the final position, let the bandhas go. My body feels completely alive, yet growing cool, the muscles gone lax with something more powerful than sleep.There are no words for the space I enter. It is not death, but I am still. It is not a dream, but I am lying down, my eyes closed. There is a certain vividness.

Savasana. Which translates into "corpse pose." Dead still. This is the final posture. Practice your yoga, then lie flat on the floor and die to what you've done, feet falling open, hands turned palms up. The body should grow long and still and should become weightless. The bones should sink to the ground as the torn heart opens so the sky dwellers may look down and see this world as it is, bloody and rhythmic. The breath should move without effort. The skin should open its tiny, hidden mouths and let the air stream through in small, silent gasps.

Savasana is a position we know well, stretched out and lying on our backs as if sleeping, but it is said to be one of the most difficult of the poses. A perfect savasana needs perfect discipline. It is not only very uncomfortable to the brain, but it makes the body feel like a piece of dry dead wood.

Consider some of the guidelines for entering savasana:
Imagine a straight line running from your chin to your sternum to your pubic bone. Allow your bottom teeth to drop away from the top ones. When each toe grows limp, quiet your sacrum. Make each nostril wide. Let your head be the last thing to plunge like a stone. Remember, a stone is mute. The path downward can feel like a perfect dream. It is not real until everything shuts down into nothingness. The ground is a friend to the spine. Be there.

And maybe savasana is like coming to the edge, the border between one world and another so you can remember what it means to be alive. The truth is, there's just so much I'll never know. For now, I am tired. My breath is slowing down, and I am thankful to have been allowed my practice one more day. Another day: it is enough."
Beautiful!

I finally relented and picked up a book in India that kept drawing me in. "Jesus lived in India". I thought it may be sacrilege. Then Rachel told me she was reading it, and I saw it as a sign. She explained the theory of Jesus being a yogi, which he studied during his youth, accounting for the lost years in the Bible. One of the explanations for His ability to heal others, surviving the crucifixion and walking on water. At the London airport, the flight agent saw my book and laughed. In his British accent he quipped, "Jesus lived in India? I don't think sooo!"

There are so many mind blowing acts that advanced yogis are capable of doing. Levitating while in a trance and other miracles that defy the laws of nature. Like Jesus' lightness to walk on water. "The ancient yogis worshiped lightness. There are stories of them becoming so light that when they ran across the earth, their bodies lifted off the ground. Some had to attach iron chains to their ankles to keep them earthbound. Even in Westernized asana classes, we are instructed to be light-to float from pose to pose." (Another quote I found interesting from the above article)

Well I did get get lighter doing yoga 6 times a week. I was cuddling Damian and he remarked, "I see you sharpened your hip bones while in India!"

Great site: http://www.shivarea.com
See an amazing video of yoga moves...

PICTURE ALBUM

Rachel and I at Calicut beach



Indian squatting toilets




White parrot at Windflower Spa



Shoba and I in Bangalore



Sahida at temple



Bapuji orphans




Gurujii and I at his 92nd birthday party



Sharath and I



Elise, Rachel and I




"Mahendi" foot henna

FAREWELL INDIA

Overlooking the Arabian Sea.

"Do not wait for life. Do not long for it. Be aware, always and at every moment, that the miracle is in the here and now." ~ Marcel Proust

My solo trip of self growth and renewal was over. For my last day in India, I bought an orange flower garland for my hair. I then had to try the 'Pon' that Rachel told me about. At a street stand, a large green leaf is smeared with some mystery sauces and many secret things from steel canisters are sprinkled over top. It was an act of faith to eat the cultural delicacy, as the man rolled it in his left hand. It is supposed to aid in digestion. The good news is that I am healthy and fine!

Most of the foods I ate in India:

Nuts, seeds, figs, masala chai tea, dried banana chips (yummy with black pepper), candied ginger, dried peas, lots of cashew/ sesame seed bars with jaggery (brown sugar), ghee (clarified butter) is on everything, spinach, lentils, and fruit salad (papaya/ pomegranate/ pomello/ figs/ banana/ pineapple).

The fruit is too expensive for many of the locals to buy. A lady was trying to sell me a lice comb on the street one day, and instead, I gave her an apple. Folks share food and drinks here, even the yogis. It really surprised me! At Mysore palace, a young Indian lady came up and asked for my water bottle. Strange, yes, but I gave it to her in a curious manner. She guzzled it, shared it with her friend, and then gave the rest back to me! Shocked, I said "No, keep it!"

Thinking about coming home to my real world was scary. The first 2 weeks I was there, I had to keep saying to myself, "I'm in India!", convincing myself that I was really there. Its hard to believe how centered I became in such chaos. Orderly chaos, as the babies don't cry, children are very well behaved, all are very polite (like calling women 'Madam'), no one fights/ peaceful, and even the traffic was a fluid flow despite the rules seeming blurry and the perceived chaos from this Westerner. A family of four is frequently seen on one motorbike, sometimes kids even asleep...and no helmets!

My only regrets this trip were: Not riding and experiencing the famous train and not getting to Kovolam. Next time!

Big shocker at the airport: Emirates Airlines charged me 1400 rupees per kilogram of extra baggage weight. You are allowed 20 kg, and I had 47! So I ended up having to pay over $600 Canadian (23,562 rps)to keep it on the flight. For those yogis in India...mail your stuff home!

When I went through security, there was a separate line for women. We were frisked in a booth with a curtain by a female. Must be because of the many layers of sari fabric. I saw some interesting face masks worn by the Muslim women. I didn't want to stare, but they looked like leather chastity belts for the face. Bizarre! My watched stopped as I was leaving India at 5:21pm. Adds up to 8, I thought it must be good luck!

In Dubai, I already feel the culture shock. First it was like a hot sauna, secondly, I saw women again in makeup, stilettos,and Gucci bags. Dubai is a consumerist society, based around shopping. Most women wear all black garb to the floor and veils over their heads. The mean wear white dresses to the ground with dishtowels on their heads. Africans in their traditional garb were also seen. At the airport, I buy Damian apple tobacco and an Arab 'Sheesha'(he laughs and says its a bong).

Each time the plane takes off, I am reminded of how a space shuttle uses more fuel during its 3 minute take off than it requires during the remainder orbit around the earth. There is a great pull exerted by the world that takes great energy to overcome. I will keep this in my head as a reminder of the energy I need to stay centered and focused.

"You don't find diamonds in storehouses, sandal trees in rows, lions in flocks and holy men in herds." ~Kabir

"Here I am in London town.." White people everywhere and everyone seems so much taller. People speak English and it feels so civilized. I had my make up done at the Giorgio Armani counter.

I am safe and sound and back in Canada now. Damian picked me up from the airport with flowers and it is sooooo amazing to see him again! He says I look emaciated. I thought my clothes got baggy from being washed on the rocks. We came home, straight to bed and slept. We got up at 11 pm, went for dinner and slept again until noon, despite the kids arriving home at 10 am and the phone ringing off the hook. CHAOS!!!!!

I downed 2 Starbucks chai lattes already today and went to get groceries...everything my heart desired at a real store! Funny, I ended up buying all of my Indian favourites! I notice I am in sloooooow motion. Being in the moment and listening to people talk seems so strange here. It is so fast and the topics and words seem so unnecessary.

I just breath.

Did you hear about the Zen master who ordered a hot dog?

He said he'll have One with everything.

LOST IN TRANSLATION

"The words of the tongue should have 3 gatekeepers." ~Arabian Proverb

1- Is it true?
2- Is it kind?
3- Is it necessary?

Many times we are seduced into idle chatter. It is refreshing when two kindred spirits can connect and brainstorm in creative co-conspiracy, as Rachel and I did this weekend.

Getting out of Mysore into the countryside was a good refresher before my trip home. The mountains were breathtaking. Jungle covered in brilliant greens of bamboo, banana and rubber trees. We passed water falls that ran under the road which snaked precariously around the height of the mountains. The edge dropped off thousands of feet below with monkeys perched on the guard rail. We saw tea plantations, rice patties and lush jungle. It was humid and reminded me of Hawaii.
We stopped at one spot for a picture and a monkey approached. "Don't worry Madam, I fight the monkey!" Says Lokash our driver- totally serious.

In Kerelah state, there is even a different language. The streets were cleaner and it appeared to have a more affluent and Arab influence, less honking and cows wandering the streets (maybe because they serve meat and seafood here) We stopped at a store and they were pushing the meat on us, thinking because we were white! They didn't understand why we kept saying 'no'.

We arrived in Calicut and I asked Lokash where he recommends for a hotel. He says, "we'll drive to the beach and go from there." Its exactly what I've been doing the last few months! Listening to life and letting it lead- surrendering to whatever is unfolding: Destiny. Trusting that life will carry me exactly where I'm meant to be.

We randomly arrived at the Beach Hotel, highly recommended by the Lonely Planet. It overlooked the Arabian Sea and our room was gorgeous in plantation style. Wide plank espresso hardwood floors and furniture, shutters and our own private balcony terrace. The palm trees swayed as we overlooked the manicured lawn and tropical bushes. We fell asleep to the sound of waves crashing.

We were the only tourists around as we went for a midnight walk along the tiled boardwalk. Rats a foot long came running out. We nearly even stepped on a snake! Lokash, our big brother protector had been following us in the dark. "Game over, times up!" He scolded us and sent us back to our room, after all it was his duty he said. We laugh at his broken English.

In the morning, some of the locals were excercising on the beach. A first sight in India! Fitness is a sign of wealth, as it means you have enough time because you don't have to work and second, because you have enough food to eat.

Kumar the hotel manager had promised us a complimentary ayervedic massage service to arrive in the morning. As we were sipping our masala chai teas, instead, he arrived and said he would get started on my head massage, and did I have any oil? I was shocked and said, "No, no no!" He said, "Okay, I'll use water then!" I was about to burst out laughing and offered for Rachel to go first. She was equally shocked and horrified at this creepy old man. We cancelled our alleged massages and sent him away. Unspoken rules and unproprietal social codes between cultures can sometimes get blurred but this was unbelievably unprofessional. Much more than lost in translation...we knew he was a pervert!

Thats when we went for our ocean dunk.- The Arabian Sea salt cleanse! I was adrenalized as the waves were rough and I don't like to swim, period!

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but the willingness to walk through your fear in pursuit of a goal that is important to you" ~Anon.

My face broke out in red bumps after. Significant since one can get acne, as the body pushes out toxins during purification and other types of cleanses.

We chatted with some old fishermen on the pier who were throwing crabs and fish on the dock. It was sad to see them flopping around gasping for breath. I could no longer look at their suffering. They were dying a tortured death! But then would the fisherman suffer if I took a stand and threw them back in? Would it be considered kind and necessary? Now I don't want to even eat seafood anymore...

"Suffering comes to deepen us- comes to help us- causes us to know who we truly are- cracks us open- forces us to let go- surrender what we've clung to." (Excerpts from the many books I'm reading right now...) And another favourite:

"Death is only one of the many ways to lose your life." ~Alvah Simon

8 DIPS IN THE ARABIAN SEA

PART ONE

BEFORE:



"Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair." ~Kahlil Gibran



Kerela

Rachel and I rented a car and driver to go through the Western Ghats mountain range and the jungle of India into the state of Kerela. Finally, the Arabian Sea...my dream come true. And, a vacation from my vacation!

I made it to the Arabian Sea and did my 7 dunks plus a bonus one. Anyone who knows me, knows how much I dislike swimming and getting my face wet. I had so much fun and felt like a little kid. I had to wear crop pants and a T-shirt...no bikinis allowed! Plus, the water was so warm.

I will write 'part two' tomorrow as I am hopping on a flight to Dubai Sunday night.

"There is only one way to get a real vacation...get away from the ego as much as possible." ~Eknath Easwaran


AFTER:

TEARS ARE THE SUMMER SHOWERS OF OUR SOUL

(~Alfred Austin, Savonarola)

“Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried, for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives.”

My right hamstring is still aching and the last two practices have been heartbreaking. I'm injured, in India, doing yoga. I am half flexible and can barely do my poses. I want to vomit, I want to cry. Tomorrow is my last class and I hope I can survive. I asked Sharath today if I should bother...maybe let it heal. He suggests a hot shower and to rub oil on my body to help the muscles. He insists I work through the pain. Ouch. More Advil in the morning. My body is not used to this much physical strain.


"You Can Heal Your Life" says:
Pain= Guilt...guilt always seeks punishment.
Legs= Carry us forward in life.
Muscles= Resistance to new experiences- ability to move in life.
Right side= Giving out, letting go. Masculine energy.
Diarreah= Fear, rejection, running off.

I am feeling sorry for myself until I walk out of the shala and see a homeless man sitting on the street with no leg. Through the alignment of the body (yoga) one discovers the alignment of the mind, the self and intelligence.

I went to acupuncture and it was one of those new experiences that was comical, because I did not know what it was about. "Balance," Sean says. "It is Chinese medicine for your body like tuning a car, to tonify deficiencies and bring down excesses.""

I had:
-2 needles in my lower back (nourishes kidney 'chi'/life energy & strengthens)
-1 in my hip
-4 in the back of my right thigh (bladder meridian to remove stagnation/ inflammation/ scar tissue). It was just a slight pain in the lower leg sites.

Then he took a lit cigar-like tube of smoking, rolled herbs and heated the needles to radiate into me. It is called 'Moxa'. I don't feel much different, but we shall see!

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”~Maya Angelou

Last day at the orphanage. I miss my own children, however seeing the orphans here puts things into perspective. I walk in and they are all seated up against the wall in a line, on the floor, eating rice for breakfast with their fingers. It has been a crash course in Kanata language. One 13 year old asked me to braid her hair as they all rushed off in their school uniforms and braids. I can communicate somewhat with a few phrases. I found out how to say "What is your name" and wrote down all of the names. Calling each one by name THRILLED them, and it built significance. Then I played a 'jump off the ledge into my arms' game with the preschoolers, (since I couldn't communicate other game rules). This one built trust. Some flew through the air with arms flung open. Others were too scared to jump or were very hesitant. We played this alot as it required no language! On my first day, they wanted me to reach up to a tree and pull berries off for them to eat. "Ackai, Ackai!!!" They yelled at me with delight. I thought they were Ackai berries. Then they said 'Ackai' for everything and I thought it meant 'look!' I asked 'Auntie' what it meant and she said 'Big sister'.

One of the senior women says to me "Sister, take me down." She wanted me to help her down the stairs. One little girl took the old lady's sandals off as I guided her down the concrete steps into a rickshaw. She also said, "They are not good kids!".

I pulled out my 'restricted' camera with permission and took pictures and videos of the kids. It was barnyard TV! The older women asked me to take their pictures and arranged a fashion shoot. One led me to the pump to photograph her 'significnace' of pumping water. Another holding her basket of cilantro leaves. Then I sat there for a good 10 minutes as the kids stared into their reflection of my sunglasses. They may have never seen a mirror. They were fascinated by what they looked like. In the West we are consumed mostly by our outer reflection, rather than our inner reflection.

I see 'Fairness cream' in the shops here. Apparently darkness means you are working in the sun all day and of lower caste. We like a suntan in the West as it says you have time to be outdoors! Everyday I am getting comments about my complexion. I am pretty sure it's genetic but someone always asks what magic cream I use, or it looks like I am glowing or that my skin looks airbrushed. *(Nana: Isn't this part of our 'Fey' British heritage? Perfect skin is one of the characteristics of fairies crossed with humans? Can someone please clarify:) I believe it to be the humidity as well as I only get random comments back home. That combined with yoga boot camp and spiritual good vibes...

I also read an article in the Mysore newspaper on the shifting of Indian womens roles. Women are getting more looks/ career conscious and less homemaker conscious. We did that 50 years ago? I think the next revolution will be a spiritual movement. The journey inward. We served our mates/ family, then we served our outer selves, through career and image. Next people will be more interested in discovering the inner self.


"Crying is one of the highest devotional songs. One who knows crying, knows spiritual practice. If you can cry with a pure heart, nothing else compares to such a prayer. Crying includes all the principals of yoga." ~Yoga For Depression

I spent 3 hours on the phone with Damian crying yesterday. Every time we speak I cry. My heart is getting a work out over here!

I wonder if I will cry when it is time to leave India. As they say: India changes you.


“Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.”
Dr. Seuss

For those who want to donate to the orphanage email:
bapajimysore@yahoo.co.in
attention Mrs. Nandes

LIFE ON SCHOOLHOUSE EARTH

"Give up the drop. Become the ocean." ~ Rumi

Monsoon season has flooded parts of India, but I am safe and sound here. Despite the rain and the red mud everywhere. I hand wash my clothes in a bucket in the bathroom which take days to dry, hanging around my room. There is still too much rain to hang them outside.

Another sleepless night. Gun shots or firecrackers went off every few minutes and the diarrhea became unbearable! I finally gave into the antibiotics the health nurse sent with me when I had my vaccinations. No sleep, no fluid or electrolytes and I am off to yoga at 6:15 am. I arrive and don't even get to sit to wait when Sharath calls, "You! Come! No resting!" (My yogi name is 'You' it seems.) I go through the motions with my sluggish body, and for my last pose, the 'turtle', Sharath comes and helps me 'bind' my hands (connecting the hands together to hold the pose for five long breaths). I warn him that I think I pulled my hamstring yesterday and the force may make it snap, as he pushes on me to go deeper. He says "Muscle just opening." Sure! At breakfast a yogi friend says he has a crush on me...I say "No, we just go way back... a few lifetimes!" Ever have that feeling? Plus I'm naive and unpolished in my practice which must be refreshing from all of the rubber bands around me. On one side, a lady is in a hand stand, with her feet touching her head. I stopped and stare. The man next to me had purple nail polish on his toenails. (Yep- theres alot of that here too)



At the orphanage, the kids were acting out of sorts. Violent, crying, fighting. Plus, I had no patience with my lack of sleep. I tried to read a story but the lack or respect or concentration frustrated me. They too must have been awake all night. One little girl took a stick and was whipping the other kids. The old lady took it from her, ordered the kids to all sleep in a row on a sheet on the marble floor. They closed their eyes and she would whip them with the stick if they opened their eyes. They all fell asleep.

Getting away from it all

I went power shopping with Amy from LA. At the tailors I had 2 saris made into duvet covers, and then we hit the Sahara market. I was telling her about how my attitude has shifted since I stopped treating the natives defensively, but with an attitude of gratitude. Everything shifted in my inner and outer world at that point. Circumstances are the creation of people, not the other way around.

"There is nothing noble about being superior to some other person. The true nobility lies in being superior to your previous self." ~ Chinese proverb

Today, we had our own little tour guide- a boy of eleven who wouldn't accept a tip. He spoke his native tongue, fluent English and bantered with me in French. I wonder who is the richer person? Communication is sometimes far more valuable, as I have especially learned here. I made sure I knew the basics before I came. It's important to know manner communication and gratitude wherever you travel. It gets you alot of mileage and shows respect. Thank you (shu-kri-ya), how much (kittenay?) and there seems to be no word for 'please', as the language is considered so beautiful as it is. I do notice that Indians call all women Mam or Madam...even each other. It seems so colloquial!

We went absolutely crazy shopping, spending a ton of rupees (which isn't much in Canadian) and I bought all my gifts. After a great day, Amy showed me the hidden gem "Cubs" restaurant. I was transported into an Italian coffee bistro in the middle of India! White leather couches, club music and a normal menu...I was pretty excited! They had chicken, pasta, prawns, desserts...I was drooling! I had a ceasar salad, greek salad, french fries and chocolate cake with ice cream...Three hours later and I am still full... I can't believe no one showed me this place! A couple of other yogis were also there. It must be the 'Getting away from it all' oasis.

Yogi's food makes sense to me now and I have adopted a few of the practices. Non-violence is the 'no meat' purpose. Some vegans don't even eat root vegetables, as worms may die in the digging up of potatoes. There is also a common religion here, Jainism- where they may sweep the floor ahead of them so their steps don't kill any bugs.

The three energy groups are:

Sattvic (purity)

This is the purest diet, the most suitable one for any serious student of yoga. It nourishes the body and maintains it in a peaceful state. And it calms and purifies the mind, enabling it to function at its maximum potential. A sattvic diet thus leads to true health: a peaceful mind in control of a fit body, with a balanced flow of energy between them. Sattvic foods include cereals, wholemeal bread, fresh fruit and vegetables, pure fruit juices, milk, butter and cheese, legumes, nuts, seeds, sprouted seeds, honey, and herb teas.

Rajasic Food (activity, passion, the process of change)

Foods that are very hot, bitter, sour, dry, or salty are rajasic. They destroy the mind-body equilibrium, feeding the body at the expense of the mind. Too much rajasic food will overstimulate the body and excite the passions, making the mind restless and uncontrollable. Rajasic foods include hot substances, such as sharp spices or strong herbs, stimulants, like coffee and tea, fish, eggs, salt and chocolate. Eating in a hurry is also considered rajasic.

Tamasic Food (darkness, inertia, sloth)

A tamasic diet benefits neither the mind nor the body. Prana, or energy, is withdrawn, powers of reasoning become clouded and a sense of inertia sets in. The body's resistance to disease is destroyed and the mind filled with dark emotions, such as anger and greed. Tamasic items include meat, alcohol, tobacco, onions, garlic, fermented foods, such as vinegar, and stale or overripe substances. Overeating is also regarded as tamasic.

No more meat boys!


The foods here in my little bubble of India, are catered mostly to the visiting yoga students:

-Curd (plain yogurt)
-Muesli & Millet toast
-fruit & veggies
-Homemade peanut butter
-Almonds, figs, cashews
-Badam milk (with almonds)
-Ginger& lemon boiled as tea, served with honey...yum!

Three months have passed since I've had any alcohol and I have not missed it. As I go deeper into my yoga practice, I see the connection of how the foods eaten affect life in so many ways. It's about living life from the inside out, rather than the outside in.

I am really content now in India and could stay here if it called me back. This weekend: The beach:)



Check out this site on India:

"For the daring adventurer: India will exhaust and intrigue, exasperate and inspire you. English-speaking India is the world’s most populous country and the largest democracy on the planet. India assaults your senses—all of them. India is loud, pushy, dirty and chaotic. It is both more and less than I’d expected, ricocheting me from elation to despair and back again. That said, the country is immeasurably rich in sights, history, cuisine and spirituality. It doesn’t come easy, but for the intrepid traveler the hassles are worth the rewards; there is splendor amidst the squalor. In the end, India breaks your heart, tests your will, exhausts your spirit, stretches your soul, awakens your humanity and, finally, repays you for its challenges and exasperations with its indelible imprint."

www.offbeattravel.com

KAIZEN

Kaizen means constant and never ending improvement in Japanese .

I have noticed a few improvements in my yoga practice. Today was my first day back to yoga in 2 days. I was up all night Saturday with Delhi belly again...the joys! I missed Sunday's led practice, and I hear there were a bunch of TV cameras around again. Gurujii's quite the celebrity! I may end up in some documentary somewhere. You may see me with Sharath holding my leg in the air in 'Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana' pose and there is red mud splashed all over the back of my calves!



Sharath bumped my time up from 7:30 am last week. When I showed up at 7:15, he yelled at me "You're late! Next time 6:30!" Around here it is a compliment, as the more advanced students practice as early as 5 am. However, I am finding it a challenge enough to get up in the mornings, as I am finally getting used to the 11 1/2 hour time change. Just in time for me to go back home in 6 days! This morning I show up at 6:15 am to sit in the vestibule with the other 10-20 students waiting in queue. Sharath spots me & points "You! Next!" I always do the "Who me?", as I am not sure if it is a complement or I am getting picked on. Then I got the 2 on 1 adjustment from Saraswati and Sharath in the turtle pose (Supta Kurmasana). The adjustments are a bit rough here! I felt hands grabbing every limb and yanking them into position. All I could say was "Wow". I never realized my body could do that!



It was off to Bapuji orphanage again, but this morning I went earlier. The kids all recognized me and came running up in the courtyard to give me hugs. I could see how they get attached so easily. There was one kid screaming bloody murder as four adults held him down for a haircut. I fed the little baby boy his bottle, and as he drifted off to sleep in my arms I thought to myself: This is peace. He was in such a relaxed state of bliss. Warm milk, the security of loving arms, body heat and the rhythm of a heart beat. Twisted boy sat and watched me with his big grin. I came and sat next to him and he giggled and looked at me with his crossed eyes, crawling onto my lap and holding my hand. When I sang the ABC's, he moaned along with me. I picked him up and he screamed with delight, then carried him outside, put him in a stroller to roll around the playground. All the other smaller kids hung off the stroller like a pack, following us around. I put him on my lap and swung on a swing and he laughed with freedom. He then went to school like the older children, carried off by an Indian caregiver. The twisted up boy reminds me of limitless thinking. We have 60,000 thoughts a day, 95% the same as the day before, and we use less than 25% of our minds. Indian yogis in the Himalayas can control heartbeat, digestion and nervous functioning through breathing and meditation. They can go without food or sleep and endure an enormous amount of pain, by controlling their thoughts. The boy chooses to be happy despite his circumstances and draws people in with his positive energy. If he was sullen and withdrawn, nobody would pay attention to him.


With the remaining youngsters, we played outside. I sat them on my lap and we swung on the swings, played patty cake, ring around the rosie and they sang me Indian songs, performing in their adorable little childishness. I found some chalk and drew hopscotch on the cement and the kids picked up quickly. Another handicapped boy of about 2 was crying, so I brought him out and put him in the stroller for the little girls to roll around. I lay on my back and gave airplane rides to the kids on my feet and they laughed and laughed. There are a list of rules for the orphanage. No gifts, no photos, and a few other regulations. I haven't been 'dismissed' yet...so I think I am fairing out okay.

After, I went to an Indian beauty parlor where there was more '2 on 1', with two ladies working on me. I went in for a pedicure and they seduced me into more things over the course of 5 hours. I ended up with a full body wax, which I had never experienced before. Since I had been letting my hair grow to that of a teenage boy, I thought I better clean up my act before I get home. They stripped me and put me in a halter dress that was more like medical scrubs with a drawstring that held it up at my chest. I sat there with my arms spread out, as they scraped burning wax on me with butter knives, simultaneously ripping the hair out with strips of material. It tickled and I shrieked as they spread wax on the backs of my thighs. It felt like I had been dipped in honey, covered in stickiness. Then I got the 'ice massage', which is not very pleasant. She kept saying my hair is small, Indian womens is big, therefore it was too fine for waxing. An interesting thing in India is they also use 'threading' for hair removal. The lady bit one end of a white thread in her mouth and then winded and twisted the other 2 ends around her fingers, pulling the hair out in a quick, fluid motion.

With Indian head massages being so cultural, I had to experience the authentic form. It is called 'Hair excercise'! Henriette does them as well, and much better than here! I was asked to go topless for the back massage (salons are segregated in India) as she rubbed my back, she told me I was all bone- Indian women healthy! After, they put a steam bath machine on my head, and washed the oil out. It was frustrating, because they use junkie hair products and a trickle of water and my hair still feels greasy. Even the blow dry was a 2 on 1. One brushed, while the other lady turned on and off the dryer every few seconds to conserve energy? The sign said credit cards accepted, so when I went to pay, she had to take me to her husbands jewelry shop....on a scooter, so help me God. I was driving down the insane streets on the back of a bike with a woman in a sari. I got off, dropped to me knees and praised hallelujah that I made it alive.

Price: 590 rupees/ $15 CDN. Experience: Priceless.

Experience is like cotton candy...sweet for a moment but then you soon discover that nothing lasts.

THE SOUND OF ONE HAND CLAPPING

The beauty of traveling solo- no one else to consider- just go with the flow!



I gotta hand it to myself
I took myself on a tour of Mysore and asked a rickshaw driver for places with interior design ideas. His English was wonderful- a 'gift' from yoga students he said...

First was the 'Windflower' a Balinese spa on the outskirts of the city.
It was an oasis of beauty I never knew existed. High class cottage style accommodations, luxury spa and an Olive garden restaurant! The decor was beautiful and set on waterways, with gushing waterfalls, one into the swimming pool. A private butler and maid service twice a day and women walk around in white robes and slippers- all set outdoors. A white parrot (who thought it was a puppy) tried to eat my ankle bracelets from my feet. It then crawled into my shawl to hide and cuddle me.

I visited an art gallery/ museum and saw the rich culture through the paintings from over the centuries of royalty in India. There were 'trick' paintings where the eyes followed you wherever you stood in the museum (like the Mona Lisa). I wanted to visit the zoo to see the famous black elephant and the other animals that roam free, but not this time. These things can be boring when you're by yourself on one hand, but on the other, you are free to do whatever you want at any pace you choose.

Time on my hands
Sunday morning was my first shift at the orphanage. I arrived and was handed a tiny baby boy of 6 months, no diaper, swaddled in a plastic mat. I bottle fed him for a bit, and he smelt of sour milk. He stared intently at me, smiling and cooing as I put him to sleep in his cradle. Baby girls lay on a plastic mat, one wailing in pain and I tried to comfort her, but she was disabled. Another had small fleshy bumps where her ears should be. One boy, about 6 years or so, was twisted up and dragging himself on the floor. His eyes were crossed and he drooled, but had the brightest, happiest smile. He kept looking at me and saying 'Hi!" A native lady was feeding him rice with her fingers. I then played patty cake with the 3-5 year olds. They smiled ear to ear and their large black eyes were wide with delight. They all fought over whose turn it was. I then asked for some crayons and paper and was bombarded by the children all grabbing and fighting over the colours. They have that scarcity mentality, so they were hiding them, even in their mouth. They hit each other often, some crying for attention or to manipulate me. The older girls would get quite cross with them. I tried putting a crayon in the hand of the twisted boy on the floor. I took his hand to draw on the paper, but he wanted to eat the crayon. A girl of about 11 sat next to me, playing with my silver necklace. She stroked my cheek and then pinched it! She secretly then put her fingers to her nose to see what I smelled like, before running away. Very primal! The colouring was chaos as I tried to draw cows, palm trees, houses and cats. They were all trying to chatter to me, but I couldn't understand...just me and this mob of kids! A little girl of 5 started to sing the ABC's. She only knew up to 'H'. Her and her 3 year old sister were new to the orphanage and from the streets. She seems very bright, and a sponge. There was 2 kids on my lap at a time as they all vied for my attention. After 2 hours, I was exhausted!

Healing hands
Later, Rachel and I went to Sean's house, for yet another spiritual quest: a Diksha*. He played a rhythmic, African chanting song while placing his hands on the crown of my head. I could feel the spiritual energy transformation, while seeing flashing lights with my eyes closed. We then lay down on the pillows on the floor to collect our thoughts after the energy transfer. Sean is from London, volunteering acupuncture therapy for orphanages. Next time...my first acupuncture!!!!

(*Diksha info: www.experiencediksha.com)

THE POWER OF NOW

"Yoga is about now," my yoga friend Barbara re-affirms. I always seem to find words of wisdom from those around me when my ears are open and my heart is receptive.

My goals in coming to India, were to go deeper with yoga, explore new cultures, research interior design topics and write. With writing, I need material to write about, so I have been seeking experiences that would make for interesting stories.

If you are ready to believe, you are easy to deceive.

I went to an Arabian coffee reader in the 'Little Arabia' of Bangalore. It was a pocket of a completely different culture in the middle of India- very interesting! There was even a meat market! I must admit the experience was crazy, almost like a sitcom. One of those times that makes me wonder "Is this really happening?" This lady reads the Bollywood stars' fortunes and people come from all over to see her. I drank from the tiny cup, leaving a small amount in the bottom. It was then dumped out to dry. The rather large woman, lounging on her bed like a roman goddess, then spewed out my fortune in perfect English for about 20 minutes. (Except for when the maid came in to discuss her laundry in Kanata language, along with an exchange of money. And then the 4 phone calls she took while in the middle of my reading.) It cost 900 rupees which I chalk up to 'entertainment'. Whether or not any of this will happen is more of a self fulfilling prophecy. My question was if there had been a curse put on me. The answer was 'NO, your stars are too strong...they tried but no curse can work.' She did tell me to go dip into the salty sea 7 times to remove any negative energy. I thought this fascinating since I know this is how crystals are 'cleansed'. I was planning a trip to the coast of the Arabian Sea next week, anyways!

"The whole point of yoga is preventative", Barbara says. "Its not to be controlled by the stars, but to be aware of their influence, and control them. It should not overtake you and you needn't energize those seeds of negativity."

Then I got a quick lesson in White vs. Black magic. White is done with the willingness of the participants. Ghandi, Bill Gates an others all use white magic to bring good to the world. It benefits others, furthers society and promotes peace. Black magic on the other hand, is done in the shadows to manipulate others for their own, personal will.

Transomatic hypnotherapy session

The next day I went to Kumar's. He is popular around here. A student of Osho and an Ayervedic specialist. He puts people in a trance through deep relaxation and then goes into past lives, rebirthing, childhood repressed traumas...you name it! Well, apparently my higher consciousness was putting a veil of darkness over my past and I was not about to find out any of these mysteries. Other people have the experience of crying, remembering crazy stuff and releasing blockages. Not me.

It reminds me of the book I am reading right now called the "Yoga of Wealth", which says "It is of little consequence what transpired in the past ~ the past is never fully responsible for your future, your present is."

Many times we delve into the past or blame people and the past for our unhappiness. I am learning that happiness is a decision...its not about giving vent to ego.
As seen in a rickshaw today:

Happiness is the only good.
The place to be happy is here.
The time to be happy is now.
The way to be happy is to make others so.

Diamond Tears

Its called 'Karmic Yoga': Serving others to bring about happiness can reverse negative karma. I find myself at Bapaji Orphanage a block from my house. I have signed up for 2 hours a day for my last week, after they put me through the security and paperwork. Having 4 kids myself qualifies me as they have had problems with yoga students in the past, who are trying to 'center' themselves. Plus, the kids get so attached that they don't want them to be abandoned again by those who aren't committed. Small children grab my arms, call me 'Auntie' and speak to me in Kanata. They are abandoned, from the streets or handicapped. 60 live in the home from infants to 30 year old women. They leave when they marry, usually to Christian men. Caste is of no issue, because they do not know which one they were born into. They receive 270 rupees a month per child, but the cost is 1,000. There is also an elderly women section, who need volunteers to sit and socialize with them. Mostly they just want to comb your hair or give you an Indian head massage. As Mother Theresa says- she feels like the most selfish person in the world, as one receives through giving.



Barbara mentions that she has seen a change in my energy since my arrival. I am no longer 'defensive'. Coming to India, we tend to carry with us the stress of the West and wear it to the world. Coupled with the lack of creature comforts and the lack of peace, India has its way of transforming those who come. There is a rich history over 8,000 years old and She is called the 'Mother of Civilization'. They say when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. I came in hopes of finding a Guru, but India has become my teacher.