Turning Inside Out

I try to remain hopeful and trusting in somewhat overwhelming and bleak conditions. As surely as India is chaotic on the outside and the people are calm on the inside, I've found that my previous style of life in San Francisco, as reflected to me by many people here, is calm on the outside and chaotic on the inside. Urban western single life seems to breed discord.

Is this just my perspective or is the anxiety of western life seeping back into my blood now that I'm home? I've found that I calmed down a lot on my journey and here I am: no job, no home, no man, vying for spirituality in an urban environment, no money, not sure where I want to live, not sure what I want to do for a living, and at least very sure of the kind of man I want - steady and stable, but how am I to meet with him if my own life is so externally chaotic? Will he see the calm within me - that giving everything up for surrender was precisely how I got to this calm? Surely.

Can I maintain my calm as I look for non-law jobs in an economic recession, manage my finances without an income and find health insurance coverage that I can afford, seek a worthwhile place to call home and try to visit about 100 people all over CA (and I'd like to visit my sister in Miami, too)? If I stick with my yoga practice, I believe that is so. But it's challengind. It seems as if everything is absolutely upside down/inside out from when I left.

Job: Many friends have been laid off and are losing their apartments and wondering how to go on with their lives. The economy is bleak. I read advertisements for litigation associates and want to cry at the idea of doing that again. But I apply anyway - just in case nothing else shows up. I at least know how to do this work. I contacted my old firm to suggest contract work and received a perfunctory response. I'm meeting with a man very soon who is starting a virtual law firm and am not sure if malpractice liability will extend to legal work that is outsourced to Manila and has my name on the papers as the licensed CA attorney.

I apply for other positions outside of the legal wall and see that my hard-earned legal credentials pale in comparison to the requirements and experience desired by prospective employers. The market is saturated with people looking. Not a good time to make a career change in the Bay Area. Or is it? I keep reminding myself to truly ask what I want. Make this next chapter a sweet one. Perhaps my reactions to legal work are a sign. If I don't get a job in this area, that's a gift. Look at that! What do you want? The idea of holing up in Pt. Reyes at a B&B (if I can find a live-in job) and writing my book and practicing yoga is a good one. It would be nice to have some contract work to make some money and pay off my student loans, too. Is this possible? Why not?

Instability: Sometimes, the freedom of being an individual is too much. I've had many lovely people write about how much they envy and admire my experiences and I can just as easily say I envy and admire their stability, husband, children, home, lifestyle and job. I chose to leave those prospects for this life. Now I'm back to where I should start these prospects up - where I should find stability - and I can't figure out what, where or how. This is truly a challenge. I try to maintain my calm.

My mother told me to say this mantra: "I am easy, I am easy, I am easy." It helps. She helps a thousand-fold. She's a law professor and can take days off. Yesterday, we drove 20 minutes to Santa Cruz and walked for hours along the beach clifftops. We compared the best ways for hopping up on a surfboard - she likes knees first; I prefer the hop-up. We sat and watched a hippy etch a giant 2009 peace mandala in the sand. We looked at million dollar remodeled homes and noticed sea otters, sea lions, pelicans, sandpipers and seagully roaming all around. My mom is easy and funny and settled. She and my stepdad love eachother. Super stable people. She is 100% supportive and tells me to give myself some time. She says I just need to settle back into the west and give myself time before I go full throttle again.

Yet something inside me is eager for answers; eager for a life that I can call my own again. I feel so...irresponsible. I'm 35. I live with my mom. I have no income. I don't know what sort of job I want to do b/c I'm not ready to work full time again in any one area. Perhaps a hodge podge of yoga, writing and working - there, that's nice. But where? It is here that I must stop. Breathe. Choose courage. I responsibly chose to shift my life this way. I responsibly will choose the next shift. It may not even be in California. My mother is right. Take time. Feel. Breathe. Think about what will make my heart sing. If I trust and surrender, my spiritual path will unfurl. I believe that. And my spiritual path MUST have a professional, money-making component to it - at least enough to live on. Just pause. Be happy to have such luxury, time and comfort. Life is good. Just different. I chose this path. Might as well enjoy it.

Social Life: Before I left, I was THE girl about town. I realized upon my return that those invitations for fun and savvy events are still coming at rocket speed. I am welcomed easily and mirthfully back into the San Francisco social scene. That's wonderful and I'm glad. However, everyone is so...BUSY. I've tried to connect with friends and we have to arrange a time two weeks out to see eachother. They work so much, that only (some) weeknights and weekdays are available. That just seems wrong to me. Americans shouldn't work so much. In other countries, they enjoy time socializing and with family.

Flaking is standard in my community. In San Francisco, it is common to call at the allotted meeting time and say you're running late (from 30 minutes to one hour). I even had the hostess of my welcome back party tell me on the day of the party that she'd be 1.5 hours late. The friend at whose place I was supposed to doll up for the party advised me on the same day that she was going to dance class and wouldn't be home until 30 minutes after my party start time. The venue selected by my friend was too small and we got the boot to a different venue - so many friends who came couldn't find us b/c they couldn't see the little makeshift sign outside of the bar.

All of this "inconvenience" could've been foreseen and alleviated with just a little consideration. But, people are too busy with their own lives to just consider other people's feelings in this town. The intent is there, but the follow through dissolves. Perhaps I became spoiled in my travels. There, the people were kind and considerate and giving. They live with their families. The live in community. They treat a guest with graciousness. They treat eachother with respect.

As if I'm REALLY supposed to learn a lesson, two things happened the night of my party that really rocked my world (one friend, one man). First, the girlfriend who was going to drive me to her house after the party left me in a taqueria in the Mission District (not too safe) at 2:00 a.m. to go have a hot makeout session with a man she just met in her car. I kept calling and texting, but she wouldn't pick up. So, there I was - no car, no place to go, little money, totally reliant on one of my friends - and she simply blew me off. I called and woke up another friend and took a cab to a safe night's sleep. The next morning, I called the woman who blew me off to make sure she was alive. She gave me a perfunctory apology and launched into a monologue about how exciting her rampage was. I was appalled, told her I was glad she was okay and said goodbye. I still can't believe it. She doesn't think it's a big deal or is in denial. I'm not sure. But, I don't understand. I don't like it. I don't want this type of crazy, flaky, selfish society. Is this how I was to my friends before? On a smaller scale, I see very clearly that I fit in just fine with this attitude before. Not anymore.

Men: Clearly, living in the aforementioned social style made me a less than desirable girlfriend. I get that now. I'm humbled. Also, the men I chose to spend my energy on were really less than desirable. For instance, a man who wooed me one year ago - a real charmer - ended up being with two other women at the same time as me. He was a liar and a cheat and I told him so before I left. He agreed and apologized profusely. This year, I decided to give him another chance and invited him to the party. He was there, handsome, super attentive and flirty, lavished the charm on me and my sister, told my sister how enamored he still is of me and how much he regretted his behavior, but how he's grown, etc. My sister, who is a great judge of character, was convinced that he'd turned over a new leaf and regretted his ways of the prior year. So, I softened up to him only to find out that he has a girlfriend! He profusely apologized for being so base as to not tell me right away, but said he was so attracted to me, blah blah blah. I just told him not to worry and I won't spend any more energy on him no matter how charming or handsome. Why tell someone you've changed if you haven't? I don't get it. THIS is the type of man I was dating before.

Now, those are the bad friend/man experiences. I had several lovely, grounded, good people come to my party. They made a big effort to be there and were sweet, inspiring and very much on their paths. These are the people that I should spend more time with. I'm lucky to know them as I had previously been so busy and so flaky that I didn't see them much. What a lesson!

The Right Man: Where are you? You are stable, calm, honest, confident, fun, smart, handsome and easy. If you are him, how will I not scare you away by all of this fluidity in my life? I will have to make sure not to overburden you with my need for stability. You're just a person. But, now I feel lovable and calm and emotionally responsible. I want to make a history with one person now. Are you ready?

Yoga: I went to the class of my beloved yoga instructor to whom I devoted my practice every day over the year. I am sorry to report that I found it absolutely bhakti beautiful as always, but the pace was too fast for me to truly enjoy the yoga. The music was too loud for me to relax. The space was too hot and constricting for me to feel easeful and restful. The asanas were far too demanding for me to keep up. Yet, at the end of class, we greeted eachother with a huge warm hug. I was so happy to see him. He's a beautiful, beautiful person who gives his heart fully and completely to his class. He asked if I needed anything and I asked if there were discounts. He told me I could come to his classes for free for three months. Life stikes a balance.

Two friends are holding weekly satsangs for a select group of yogis that want to incorporate the Sutras and the Gita into their lives. Of course, they're in San Francisco. I'd like to go. This may be a perfect segue back into a spiritual life in San Francisco.

Do I want to teach yoga? Yes, but not multiple time a day. I'd like to get settled first b/c I can't apply unless I know where I'll live. I can take classes near my mom's house for $40 for 30 days, but that is the vinyasa urban style and I don't know if it's for me. Will I even be here 30 days? Is it best to get out and do yoga, see if I can teach this style happily, or just do my own practice for now and explore Pt. Reyes b/c it's still calling to me. I think the answer is obvious: I'll go do my own practice in a moment.

One last thing: Finances. Everyone is consumed by it and it is infectious. The money will come. It will. I have a 401 K (more like a 201 K now) and I can take money if I need to. The last thing I want to do is to settle into a job I don't want full time and lose all of the clarity and calm I obtained from just being within. It is possible to balance work and health. It should be 50/50, really. How to do this and live in expensive CA? Is there a beautiful place where this is possible? Or should I go teach english abroad and live cheaply a little while longer???

It's all inside out again. Is this the natural flow of life? Spiral-like. Seems like it. Surrender...

East meets West

My two days in Bangkok were a tired adventure. My San Francisco friend Matt, who has lived in Bangkok teaching english for several years, graciously delivered the two giant bags of luggage that he had been holding for all these . After a walk through town and a late dinner, I came back to the hotel and went through everything. In my new-found ability to molt, I steadily packed an entire bag of unnecessary stuff, placed a note saying 'Free Stuff' on the bag and placed it in the hallway of my guesthouse. The next morning, the bag was gone and I was relieved. I miraculously narrowed my belongings to one piece of luggage, a day pack, a carry-on bag and my purse. I couldn't believe it and swelled with pride at the small successes in life.
I joined a tour at 6:45 a.m. to go to the floating market outside of the city. It involved a 1 hour drive in a van and a 20 minute longboat tour. The longboat portion was fascinating as I sat alone in the front row and marvelled at the colorful, simple Thai river life. My mom, stepfather and I went there 13 years ago. Like everything else in Thailand, it changed. A lot. The market still had women with giant straw hats selling fruits and soup. The new addition included shops selling tourist junk and curios on the land surrounding the waterways. Rather than pay an additional 150 baht (approx. $6) to take a rowboat through the market, I sat alongside the waterways and ate some soup ordered from one of the ladies on a boat. I watched as the happy tourists floated past in their boats - polished and smiling - and I felt very, very different all of a sudden. I walked further through the market and joined another boat vendor at the water's edge and ate a mango. People were snapping photos, requesting her to paddle her boat into the sunlight for a better photo opportunity and looking askance at her when she offered to sell them dragonfruit or special apples. So many simply wanted nothing but to take her photo. She smiled the entire time and never tired of her sales pitch, but not much money or fruit changed hands. I marvelled at her ability to pose and smile while these people bought not much of anything from her. The whole market made me somewhat sad. I took solace in eating every bit of Thai food that I had missed and wouldn't be able to obtain back in the USA. That was the soup, the mango and finally hot coconut patties grilled over an open fire with fresh coconut milk glaze. On my way out of the market, I bought a picture of myself on a plate that was snapped by some tour association while I was on the boat. As this was my last day on my year sojourn, I figured "Why not?" I realized it would be the only plate that I owned when I got home and laughed at the idea of eating off of it in the near future. Ha ha!
I took a risk and decided to see the cobra show, touted as 'the greatest show on earth!' You know what? It was, indeed, one of the greatest shows I've ever seen of its kind. The showmen were talented, daring and terrifyingly close to deadly pit vipers. In the first act, a man was on his knees as he released an angry cobra from a cloth bag. He swerved out of the way within millimeters of the repeatedly striking cobra. I could hear it's menacing hiss each time is struck at the air. Another man did the same thing while a mongoose in a plastic cage attacked the striking cobra from below (the cobra was removed before the mongoose killed it). Two men brought the cobra directly to me (I was in front row center, no barrier) and displayed the venom of the snake as he spewed it into a jar. I writhed. They later brought a giant python to the audience for touching. It was cold. One man took on three snakes at once and captured the last one just above the head by diving on top of it and capturing it WITH HIS MOUTH! I wonder how these guys train for this job. The serpentarium was extensive and housed the fattest crocodile I've ever seen. I wondered what he'd just eaten to be so fat and was relieved when the driver told me it was time to leave.

I got back to the hotel and checked e-mail on my laptop that was part of the stuff Matt had stored for me. I wasn't sure how I'd get to the airport and sent up a wish for someone to share a taxi with at 4:00. As if on cue, the waitress asked the couple next to me, "what time is your taxi?" You guessed it, "4:00." I quickly asked if we could share and it was no problem. The young english girl was parting with her boyfriend and heading for India. She was terrified b/c she'd never been there before. This was precisely why she was going. I shared some of my experiences with her, my similar fears, my love of India and although she was nervous, she seemed a little more at ease. I felt like the magic of India was already happening for her by this coincidental meeting. Perhaps, the magic is always happening for all of us everywhere.
The plane ride home was uneventful, except that I met a lovely Thai lady who had left her home for three weeks to go on vacation to CA. Three years later, she lives in CA all alone and only just returned home b/c she had obtained her US green card and could return to the US without any problem. I admired the fact that she just left everything she knew and all the people she loved for a life in a new place. I thought about my family, my friends, my love of CA and doubted that I could be so brave. Or could I?
I flew into LAX on Thai Airways. They played Christmas Carols while we were waiting to dock at the LAX gate. I missed Christmas. In LAX, had to wait for four hours for the connecting flight to San Jose. It was no problem, as I could walk the six terminals over to reach United Airways. I walked along and noticed the usual LA way of people looking at you to assess whether you're famous. I said to myself "this is the last time anyone will look at me so regularly in the United States." And it's all because of television and ; not because I'm a solo white woman walking along.
Inside the airport, I was stunned at how fat so many people were. Just plain fat. And unhappy. Many people were arguing or complaining to eachother, the airport employees or on the cell phone. I tried to see things through a brighter lens, but could not. All around me were fat people rushing to get somewhere and doing many things all at once with scowls on their faces. I felt like I did at the floating market as I sat on the edge of the river watching the tourists go by: different. Yet, I was really, really, really happy to be home. I understood all the signs, I understood the culture and the visa man flirted with me and told me in response to our brief discussion about my bad timing arriving home during the recession: "you can get a job with us. Government jobs are secure. Mine is safe until a pretty girl like you comes along," to which I smiled and said "Well, thanks, sir, that sure is a nice way to be welcomed back to my country." And I meant it. I didn't know how I would be received. All I felt was different and relieved to be home.
So, I waited in the only place that wasn't blasting bad music and reeking of artificial food and alcohol in the airport: Starbucks. I paid $10 for water and a parfait of fruit and yogurt. It hurt to pay that much. Many people buzzed through with computers and cell phones and they all seemed so....busy. Of course, the very particular orders of the people at the counter and the follow up specifications requested by the employees was a spectacle to behold after all that time away. Nothing changed there, except for tazo tea added to the menu, but I quite literally FORGOT about this experience. I felt like I was in the twilight zone. In the meantime, I look just like everybody else (not as fat) and no one knows that there I am, observing it all from a table, and literally TRIPPING OUT!
The plane landed in San Jose. I stepped onto the open staircase from the plane. It had frost on it! The familiar scent of pine and cold air wafted into my nose and I became nostalgic about all those times I'd return to Northern California from my Southern California university for Christmas break and smell that same intoxicating scent of Northern cold and pine. I loved it! I smiled ear to ear as I wrapped a scarf around my neck and proceeded to the airport.
When I saw my mom, stepdad, sister and nephew, it felt like I had seen them only yesterday. They were cheering and smiling. My mom had roses and a "Welcome Home" balloon. My sister had a gift box of pajamas for me "so I wouldn't be cold" and I realized immediately that nothing had changed with my family. I have travelled thousands of miles and lifetimes, and they are the same with regard to me. I am the same with regard to them. We're a well travelled, sweet, loving family (most of the time) and no matter what we do, where we go, or what we experience, the family arms are always open and loving. How lucky I am!
We returned to my mom and stepdad's house in the Los Gatos/Santa Cruz mountains. There was silence and trees all around us. My mom left every single Christmas decoration (including the tree!) up so that I wouldn't miss Christmas. I love my mom.
I slept until 1 p.m. the next day and my mom took me hiking to see a beaver dam built inside Lexington Reservoir (the lake that my folks' live on). The air was brisk and cold, bu the sun was out. I wore a hat and gloves and my mom laughed at me, saying 'it's not that cold, Kyra,' but I felt cold as we trumped along the greens and blues and reds and yellows of the moist trees and soils surrounding her house.
The following morning, I woke up in time to see Obama being inaugurated to the Presidency. He spoke of moving on in times of trouble, just as George Washington had commanded his troops when it seemed they might not win the battle of independence. He's a brilliant man who believes in love, understanding, collaboration, courage, responsibility, dignity, diversity and tolerance. I revere this man. I'm so proud to have him leading America. Our nation needs it in these trying financial times. Many people have lost their jobs and are, just like me, looking for their next meal ticket to continue their lives. We're all in this together, no matter how different I feel. And there's no better man to elevate us all than Barack Obama. How lucky we are, indeed!

That evening, I finally left the house with my mom and Eric and went into town. I felt kindof frail and didn't want to be overwhelmed by the affluent beauty of downtown Los Gatos. We entered the ritzy apple store and I bought an i-phone, so that I could get in touch with people right away. We walked past the Lamborghini store with polished bright orange, red and yellow cars flashing in the window displays and past $400 toasters on display at Williams Sonoma to a Thai food restaurant and it was nice, but American Thai. I sent a little prayer of gratitude up into the sky for that last bowl of Thai soup I had at the floating market --- spicy and authentic. I'll miss that, but am lucky to have had it at all!
The next day, my pal Jodi invited me up to San Francisco to go to the Museum of Modern Art with she and our other friend Kelli. I smiled as I drove up Highway 280 in all of it's green beauty. The horses and cows grazed upon the undeveloped rolling hills that cascaded into the San Andreas . The pine and redwood covered Santa Cruz mountains rise up and over to the Pacific Ocean on one side and the San Francisco Bay extends on the other side. The clouds were silvery bright as the sun peaked from behind. I love Northern California!
I drove into San Francisco and the skyline took my breath away, per usual. I marvelled at the neatness of the pastel high rises with steel and windows, surrounded by water. I felt that familiar sense of wonder with the city and realized I'd rather live in this city than any other city on earth. Slowly, my phone started ringing, as one by one, my long lost friends called me and we began to make plans for a reunion. I floated along the streets to meet Jodi and Kelli on the busy commercial street and when I saw them, it was as if I'd just seen them yesterday.
We decided not to go to the MOMA and instead to have bananas in the park and talk. We discussed the possibility of me writing a book and my experiences in India, with yoga and romance. Jodi spoke of how she was laid off and her love life. Kelli spoke of teaching yoga and admitted that she burned the $80 teapot that I entrusted to her to a crisp. "I can't believe I spent so much money on a teapot," I thought.
That night, I went on a date with a man that I had dated several times before I left. He moved to NYC about the same time I left. He moved back to CA (after being laid off) on the same day that I did. Again, it was as if I had seen him yesterday. He told me I seemed calmer. Kelli and Jodi said the same thing. We went into the jacuzzi at his apartment complex and it was HEAVEN to be submerged in popping hot water! I loved it. We had a very nice evening and I found myself seeing him differently than I ever had before. I saw so acutely how unavailable I had been one year before - emotionally. I was always too busy to make any plans with him and brushed him off again and again and again as I juggled so many things with the little personal time that I had. Now that I was able to just relax with him, our conversation took a deeper path and I saw him for the first time as a genuinely good guy that emigrated all the way over from Serbia on his own to start a life in the United States. I respected him for that courage - all I can say is I finally SAW him -- and I believe it was nice for both of us. I felt calm in his presence and he felt calm in mine. We relaxed without tension.
The next day, I helped Jodi prepare for her dinner party. I walked her dog to the grocery store. I was bundled in a hat, gloves and a leather coat with fur collar and cuffs, jeans and black boots. Within one day, I morphed into a San Franciscan and I loved being right back there. I saw that San Francisco, here I come, was my immediate future. But it's not going to be easy to find a place to live and a job, perhaps. Jodi has a fabulous industrial loft downtown that is too much money to pay for someone with no salary. Yet, she genuinely knows that she need not worry. How she has this wisdom is beyond me, but I know she's right. I feel the same way unless I choose to travel down the stressed out route. I see the beauty in her calm amidst all the stress and I gained a newfound respect for her, too. Suddenly, I'm seeing all of these people that have been close to me as really good, courageous, brave, brilliant beings and I feel so lucky to be their friend. The dinner party was a success and the women that came were the typical San Franciscan women: 30ish, attractive, well traveled, sophisticated, funny and sassy. All unmarried, but 50% were in serious relationships resulting from online dating! I can't imagine dating online again, but that's precisely how I met the man I went on a date with two nights ago over one year past. The circle rotates again. What a strange life. What a strange city. And I love it. It's great to be home.

Indian Farewell

(Originally written Jan. 13) I sit here alone in a modest little government home in the city of Vadodara (Barota), in the state of Gujarat, still in the country of India. I am surrounded by pictures of Sri Aurobindo and ‘The Mother’ and the birds are chirping on one side of this building, while someone is blasting bad technobangra music at full decibel on the other side of this building. The birds sing between branches strewn with lost kites and the music sings in anticipation of the city-wide kite festival, wherein people fly hundreds of kites and slice the bright pink strings of others’ kites in hopes of being the last kite runner flying.

The inhabitants of this apartment are both MDs in Ayurvedic medicine and devotees of Sri Aurobindo Ashram. They are Gujarati and in their mid 50s. Right now, they are at work. You may be asking yourself, “why is Kyra there?” Great question. I am here doing a yogic cleanse with one of the doctors, who I met at the Int’l Yogic Conference in Pondicherry. There, the doctor has one of her offices and a home near the ashram, where she regularly conducts seminars and gives ayurvedic consultations and massages. She told me that she used to give massages to ‘The Mother’s’ daughter or granddaughter – I can’t remember which. She has also been sponsored to go to Brazil several times to teach one to two month long courses in ayurveda, yoga, massage and naturopathy. She was also a guest speaker at the International Yoga Conference.

In Pondicherry, when I learned from an acquaintance that four people were heading to Chennai one morning, I suggested we share a cab. I was introduced to the doctor as one of the four and learned that she, like me, was headed straight for the airport. I suggested we go to the airport together. When she asked where I was going, I told her I was going to Kaivalyadhana ashram for a panchakarma one week cleanse. She said, “that place is not so good, come with me, I am an ayurvedic doctor, I have many things to teach you” and handed me her card. She was called away to be honored as a guest speaker and came back. She looked me squarely in the eye, held my hand and said “we have met in a past life,” “you are a special person,” “I’m supposed to teach you what I know,” “come with me.” I told her I’d think about it and agreed to meet her later that evening. In the evening, the doctor told me that she would give me spiritual, physical, mental, cosmic and karmic cleansing. She said I could come to her house and she would cook for me and take care of all of my needs, including cleansing, massage, shirodahra, steam, etc. Her price was almost twice that of the ashram. I questioned whether I should go to an ashram and be one of many receiving treatments or go alone with this doctor and be her sole patient. I wasn’t sure. But, then I figured that everything happens for a reason and it would be best just to throw caution to the wind. I also figured that this would be very nice individualized treatment and much better than being a number in an ashram. I asked if she knew where I could get a small diamond stud for my nose b/c I heard Gujarat had cheap diamonds and gold. She smiled and said we could do that. I assumed that because she was an MD from Gujarat (where many wealthy indian families named Patel come from), that her house and office would be very nice...

Wrong. After a 10 hour journey in which I read a book given to me by the amiable and integrity-filled man Rajen (Jay’s cousin who I met for two dinners and a breakfast before leaving and is lovely) about Gujarat, I was a bit rifled. First, I didn’t know that Gujarat had a massive slaying of Muslims by Hindis in only 2002, including burning of buildings with people in it, rapes, murders and massacres. This was a bit disconcerting. When we arrived to the airport, the large town of Ahmnebad was dilapidated and chaotic with massive construction and giant piles of garbage, dirt and potholes everywhere. It was India at it’s finest. After the immaculate, French-designed town of Pondicherry, this city was a shocker. I looked at everyone wondering whether they had participated only seven years ago in the taking and raping of human lives. She told me in the car that she and her husband were very poor and lived very modest lives. She was honest. We arrived to her apartment which was a polished concrete floor with colored rocks in every room and walls sorely in need of paint (which was chipping, cracked and dripping with various colors of yellow and green ???)). It was open air with rickety wooden doors and windows to close in the heat. It was cold in Gujarat – another surprise I hadn’t expected after having such lovely weather in India all along (most of the time). The apartment was freezing – even more so without any carpets in the entire breezy place. It was spartanly furnished and very, very basic. There was an Indian toilet and one room with a shower head, but no hot water. Every single room was decked with pictures of Sri Aurobindo and ‘The Mother’ on almost every wall. The treatment room had an alter to the two of them and not even a massage table. I was too tired to react. I just went to sleep in the bed that they provided for me. That night, I had a dream that ‘The Mother’ was with me and I felt a tremendous sense of peace ease my nerves. I then had a nightmare and woke up crying in the middle of the night – I dreamt that I had offended my sister Stacy by being mean and there was nothing I could do to fix it.

The next morning, I awoke to spooky chamber music being played from an organ. I wondered what the he#! I was doing here. The music stopped and the doctor started singing a sweet Gujarati song. Her voice was calming and lovely. I decided to give it a go. We woke up at 6:30, per her instruction and I learned the morning cleansing routine: gargle warm salt water five times, wash my eyes with cold water, take a lidfull of sesame oil in my mouth and hold while exercising for 10 minutes, brush my teeth with ayurvedic powder, scrape my tongue with a special copper contraption so deeply that I gag and hack loogies out of my fully extended tongue, sit in their terrace and drink slowly a glass of warm water, take a jala neti pot to my nostrils and wash out, then quicly dring 2 glasses of warm salt water after which I hold in my stomach, massage my chest, stick my tongue out and gag myself until all of the salt water comes out via 5-6 vomits, then gargle salt water once more and go to the terrace again for a special warm juice of neem, lemon, ginger, tumeric and water. This, we do every morning at 6:30 before beginning out treatment for the day.

The first morning, she told me some philosophies of yoga and gave credit repeatedly to ‘The Mother’ who guides us and provides us everything we need from the Divine. I looked at the pictures of the mother and just couldn’t see how I could revere this woman. I looked at the doctor and continued to wonder if I made a mistake.

After we did some breathing exercises and other things (that I can’t recall just now), she told me she’d have to go to a conference until 2 p.m., but that an assistant was there to take care of me. The assistant was a young, pretty Indian girl. She had me lie on the floor buck naked with nothing but a blanket between me and the floor and the windows open with a draft. It was freezing! She told me not to talk, then asked me a series of questions. The massage was horrible – her hands were cold and she sniffled the whole time while I wondered if she might accidentally snot on me. She then told me to listen to the creepy organ music as this was ‘The Mother’ playing a piece she wrote to stimulate cell regeneration and growth. I insisted that I have blankets both above and below me. At this point, I started crying...I then listed to another tape of a hypnotherapist with a creepy accent telling me to imagine that I was ascending a rainbow. We went to the kitchen thereafter for a “steam” and I literally sat naked on a stool while she took a steamer connected to the boiling water and waved it slowly over each limb. Occasionally, there would be boiling hot water dripping on me and I’d have to control my reaction as not to hit the steamer. This, too, was awful. She then told me to take a bath. This amounted to sitting in a little bucket filled with warm water and sponging myself on the cold floor.

After the bath, I had another juice and some food (which was delicious). The girl asked how much the doctor was charging me. She then told me that the doctor doesn’t pay her. I asked if she knew Kaivalyadhana ashram. She said she didn’t, but that there were plenty of ashrams in town that had nice treatment centers that didn’t cost as much. I asked if she thought I made a mistake in coming with the doctor. She swore me to secrecy and told me she thought I had made a mistake. This was all I needed to hear. I started to pack my bags. At that moment, the doctor called and asked how I was doing. I told her I was leaving because I was cold and wanted to go to Kaivalyadhana. She said she was coming right away. So, I waited and told her very calmly that I wasn’t comfortable there and that I was freezing. She asked what happened while she was gone and I said I had a massage and I was freezing. She said that there wasn’t a flight until the evening and she could take me to the ashram for me to meditate on this decision a little bit more. This freaked me out even more b/c of the organ music, the spooky pictures all over the place and the general fear I had that this woman came to me in my sleep and this doctor was a huge devotee of a cult I wanted nothing to do with. Plus, I thought, she was dishonest. So, I told her I was leaving right then. I offered her 1000 rupees. She refused. I insisted. She asked that I put it before ‘the Mother’ on the alter. I scoffed inwardly and lay the bill in front of the picture. The doctor started crying as I descended the staircase and I apologized. I left.

The assistant took me to the airport. Sure enough, there wasn’t a flight until that evening and there was no other way to get to Kaivalyadhana. So, I waited in the lounge for an hour for the airport to open. I decided I would just go to Thailand and check into Health Oasis Resort on the beach for an expensive, but very nice, nine day deluxe cleanse with massages and enemas and treatments every day with a good diet and WARM facilities. I asked the security guards (with full rifles loaded and ready to shoot) how to get to an internet cafe. The were very kind and called a rickshaw for me, negotiated the price, and told him how to get to the cafe.

As I was writing the confirming e-mail to Health Oasis to reserve a space for me, the doctor appeared. The security guards at the airport told her where I was. She said she had been too distressed earlier to give this to me and presented a perfect diamond nose ring. She helped me put it in my nose and I asked her how much. “Later,” she said. She then went on a long discussion of how she really felt that she was supposed to teach me and wanted to know why I suddenly left like that. She said Kaivalyadhana is also cold b/c it’s a hill station. I told her I was going to Thailand. I told her I wanted water. She said she was planning on taking me to the River for sunrise one morning and she had worked out my entire treatment plan. I told her the massage and steam were awful. She said she personally would do everything for me the remainder of the week. She said she’d told the assistant to cover me and that she had a massage table for me. I told her that I didn’t respect her gurus and didn’t feel right taking their teachings through her. She said her teachings came from her father and yoga and life and I need not revere Sri Aurobindo or ‘The Mother.’ I told her I hate that organ music, it scares me – she said she wouldn’t play it again. I told her I had nightmares in the bedroom and she said I could share the other bedroom with her instead of sleeping in her husband’s bedroom. In honesty, her room was cozy and had two beds – it looked very warm. She then said she had an entire treatment plan laid out for me and already bought all the oils and items needed for it. I told her I’d pay her for the items. She then looked me straight in the eyes and said “please don’t leave, I really want to share these things with you – it’s not just treatments that I’m giving you – I’m giving you divine blessings as I do it – with intention and yoga.’ ‘Other practitioners can’t do this for you – it’s important when you receive these treatments to have a practitioner with the right intention.’ ‘I know that I am supposed to teach you. I have the right intention. I am sorry that I left you. It won’t happen again.’ She then showed me that she’d registered us for a conference on consciousness and hypnotherapy from an east and western perspective. Rinpoche was there from Tibet and other people from England, Israel, India and Germany. The program looked pretty good. She also told me more about her life. She’d had two near death experiences and experienced the netherworld. There, she learned the value of life and experienced the connection with the universe. This, she said she wanted to teachme through pranayamas and yoga. She said that all bad external things come out during a cleanse and that this was what I was experiencing. She told me she cried for an hour during mother’s cell regeneration music. It’s part of the process she said. Again, she told me that we met in this life for a reason and that she felt I was a special person and needed to receive this information now. She told me I didn’t need to pay her, but just to be her student for one week. As I listened to her and looked at her, I decided that any woman who tried so hard should have a second chance. She seemed genuinely sincere. So, I agreed to go with her. I cancelled my ticket for 100 rupees.

Since then, I am glad that I made the decision that I did. Although the apartment is spartan, it is immaculate. She is not a crook, a cook, or dishonest. She and her husband, as well as hundreds of other people around the world (including those who live in Auroville – the idea of ‘The Mother’) also are devotees of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother. She doesn’t fault me for not believing and instead we talk about the Hindu deities and she reveres me with stories of her experiences in the Himalayas, as well as her fathers that come straight out of ‘Autobiography of a Yogi.” She is the real yogini. If she lived in a mountain, she’d be a baba. Instead, she lives in this little place with her husband and they only had sex twice – to conceive their two children – and both are brahmans, devoted to the spiritual path through yoga, ayurveda and naturopathy.

So, this is real India. This is the real teacher. She has given me beautiful massages and many, many treatments that I would get in a spa. We have philosophized, meditated and chanted while meditating – you can actually feel vibrations coming within and without and connect to so many things outside and inside. I’ve learned many aspects of cleansing, yogic asanas, kriyas, breathing and aspects of the chakras, diet and the circulatory, respiratory and digestive systems. I’ve also learned a ton about my body. I learned I am kapha vata, not pitta vata. I learned my digestive system is lazy and my back is weak. The rigorous ashtanga practice I have been doing is physically straining on my back. I’m not physically strong enough for that yet and need to go back to the real yoga of aligning breath with smaller physical movements that don’t strain the body. I’m not sure I’m ready to accept that yet, but for this week, I will. She told me not to do headstands until my back is stronger and gave me many back exercises to strengthen my back. She’s given me many meditations to clear my stress from my system and to connect with my breath at any instant to avoid anxiety. I learned from the aftereffects of my enemas, that I have worms that are coming out of my system. Gross. She informed me my reproductive system is in perfect health. She has challenged me on every level – physical, mental, spiritual and even cosmicly and I am grateful for it. Yet, still there’s a piece of me that is skeptical and looking forward to leaving as well as looking forward to the end of each exercise that we do. I wonder as I watch myself how I can be so fascinated with ayurveda and yoga and realize the wonders that it can do for people’s health, and at the same time, feel relieved that this one on one bootcamp of all of this has breaks and will come to an end. Am I lazy? Ungrateful? I asked the universe to give me a cleanse, some yogic knowledge, I wanted to learn about Ayurveda and here is the teacher – presented in a 100% Indian way – and I am looking forward to leaving, yet at the same time, looking forward to someday perhaps coming back and learning more from this woman.

She is truly a baba. When we do exercises, she can tell what parts of my body I can’t feel without me telling her. She has read my mind several times. She stopped playing the creepy music, but did take me to the ashram once and we meditated there. It was nice. I said I didn’t want to go the next night and she was fine with that. She’s told me stories of healing she’s done of people that are deaf and dumb, with diabetes and arthritis. When we were at the consciousness conference, many people greeted her with respect and told their colleagues “this is a truly enlightened lady” and others thanked her for the treatment. She told me the king of Gujarat’s mother wants to give her some land to open a holistic center or an ashram for her, but that she wants her freedom. She prefers to help people one on one. Her friends in Brazil have also invited her to stay for an indefinite period of time. She is, indeed, the real deal. What a weird and wacky way to experience such a person.

Our activities are culturally fun, too. She’s taught me vedic songs and chants and even some Gujarati dancing. We saw a Gujarati dance performance, went to another ashram of Ramakrishna and even went to the nicest naturopathic center in town (where she trained for three years). This is what I would’ve received at Kaivalyadhana – it is beautiful, but filled with Indians and the treatment center is equally cold, but all facilities are side by side and you can hear them talking all the while. Indians go there for weeks to recover from illnesses and one masseus has eight patients in one day. I am certainly receiving much more specialized treatment from the doctor. One day, I spent lunch watching cricket players. On their break, they invited me to stay the whole time – they were very friendly and taught me a bit about cricket. I find it very boring, to tell the truth. But, it was nice to see a new game, anyway...

So, here I am, alone in the apartment b/c she had to go to work for some hours. But, she gave me homework, which I finished. Now she is back and we’re going to do another shirodhara. She just told me, that if I want to do a cleanse at home, this is what you do day by day (this is just her passing through the room and as usual spilling knowledge out like water from a faucet): First day, only light food and fruit. Second: fruit and soup, Third and Fourth: warm water only, Fifth: soup and fruit, Sixth: some light cooked food and seventh day normal food. Take one or two enemas to cleanse, or just one to cleanse.
She says “you are your doctor.” Trust your own body, listen to your body, love your body.

I do love my body now. I have cleansed unbelievably through the bowels and nose and mouth and ears (even) and my mind is beginning to become uncluttered. When I breathe, I feel heat through every channel and even my toes are warm. I’ve learned that yoga is soooo much more than asanas, but this time I’ve experienced these lessons, rather than hearing them. This is teaching of true yoga. Plus, I now weigh 136 pounds and look radiant in my skin. I look very young and have lots of energy. Mostly, I’m positive.

Yet, the skepticism remains. The fear about going home and starting on the right path troubles me. Yet, she told me to breath in strength, courage, confidence, consciousness and breathe out fear, weakness and competitiveness. This, I do on a daily basis. But, this life is a trying one. Then again, I spend all day receiving treatments from my personal teacher/doctor/yogini. This is as easy as it gets...right? It will be very, very nice to combine these teachings with the ease and beauty of home that I miss so much.
(Updated Jan. 17, 2009)
My last day in Gujarat, I had a morning "cleanse," per usual. Then the doctor gave me a shirodarah (third eye with oil) massage and we did some more breathing excercises. I was given three juices and some fruit - which was heaven to eat! She gave me a hair treatment that I thought was a conditions with clay and mud. Turns out it also had tons of henna, so my hair is now red! I like it, but it was a surprise - gone is the blonde - now it looks healthy and golden red with brown undertones. A nice surprise! I also had my final enema and even more toxic sludge emerged from my bowels. My stomach is now flat and soft and feels so clean and light. I love it. During the shirodarah massage, a message came to me that my sister MUST come to this doctor to regenerate and renew her frazzled life. I asked the doctor about it and I am it is possible for her to be treated in the far more comfy surroundings of Pondicherry. I wrote my sister an e-mail immediately proposing the idea. I was thrilled beyond measure that she consented to it. If there is anything in this world of treatments and program to detoxify, i.e. remove the toxins of this life, no matter how easy or hard, I firmly believe that this doctor - who combines yogic knowledge straight out of "Autobiography of a Yogi" and ayurvedic/naturopathic experience with a heightened sense of spiritual grace - is the one to do it. I have not one iota of doubt. So, I'm pretty certain that I will return to India with my sister and perhaps her child and there we shall spend at least one month cleansing and loving what the universe has given us. Regaining our light, recapturing our power. My sister raised me like a mother. Now, there is no one to look after her. It's my turn to give back and it feels very clear, very right and very good. I love her. I love this life!
Anyway, after my system cleared, the doctor took me across town to a kite flying festival. The high rise buildings were teeming with people flying kites off the top of them for as far as the eye could see. Set amidst these high rises was a giant statue of Shiva with his trident and the minarets, cupolas and spires of muslim mosques and hindu temples. Every rooftop was blasting different music and the people were writing to the music while flying kites in the sky and slashing eachothers kites with glass blades on the strings. The electrical wires and trees and everything in between was littered with lost kites. The sky was filled with dancing rainbows of kites going all directions. As night fell, the sky was covered in even more color - huge firework displays outdoing the fourth of july in america with their height, color, diversity and sheer numerosity - it seemed like every third rooftop in the panoramic realm was doing their own fireworks show. Amidst the swirling kites, exploding lights and blasting music filtering through the air, people lit little air balloon types things with large flames as they slowly ascended to the sky releasing people's prayers. In true Indian style, at times, the wind would blow the balloon a bit to the side and the entire balloon would catch on fire and cascade in a burning mass below. Mothers with little babies would gently swoosh rooftop celebrants aside and let the chaotic embers blow past them.
Once again - the flow in the chaos for which I so love India. An older man asked me what I liked most about India: "the wisdom," I said. I truly appreciate this wisdom, this celebration, this spirit of the Indian people. It's an inspiration and it goes straight to my heart every time. I love India...
The whole event was such a celebration! I ate sweet after sweet after homemade Indian dish after homemade Indian dish. Of course, this was the first time I could eat, so my stomach was full and in pain within a very short period of time. I simply stopped eating and tried not to jump with glee at the excitement I felt coursing through my entire, very, very clean and light body. I didn't realize how very sensitive I was to everything. All of this, ALL of it, was so celebratory - it was like Christmas as a young child - and I just had to cry at the beauty of all of this. I was so grateful that Dr. Geeta and I found eachother, that I stuck with her, that I did this cleanse, that I finally, finally, finally really deeply experienced ALL aspects of yoga and the light that comes through your body when you stick with a disciplined regime. This was the perfect celebration of light and love and the greatness of all things India on this rooftop. It couldn't have been more perfect. As we drove home on her motorbike and were nearly careened into five zillion times, I floated, smiling and unfazed. Just so very, very, very at peace with myself. So very, very in love with India. And so very, very grateful to be me in this life just now. Namaste.
That evening, the doctor reminded me that I am my own doctor. I know my own body best. She told me, "you want more rigorous asanas, I know - so just experiment with what I taught you and blend it with what feels right for you. Find your own path. I know we will meet again. You will study more with me." I have no doubt. My sister, too, will feel the light of these teachings. Life is good.
So, the next morning, we had a tearful farewell at the airport and I arrived in Mumbai and walked into the parking lot just outside the airport to find my Bollywood friend that I met in Rajastan dancing around the fire in the desert with gypsies. Sure enough, I walked right into Asif Basra. His mouth dropped when he saw me. "Wow, you look so...different...there's this radiance about you, this light, it's like what Bollywood film stars have..." he said. I felt exactly that way. Exactly. So, on I hopped to his Royal Enfield and we sped through the madness of Mumbai - from the slums to the elegant city center replete with English architecture and stone roundabouts with lovely sculptured fountains - and straight to the fishing harbor. There, we hopped onto a local ferry after having my last parotha in India (and a chai, of course) and they moved his bike on to the boat with manpower and a single wooden plank. We were cooled by the breeze as we glided for 1.5 hours on the Arabian Sea to the north and discussed his idea for a television show in which he travels on his motorbike through India and explores the multifarious cultural talent. It was lovely to see him, effortless to talk to him, and quite scintillating b/c he was wearing a hat and glasses as not to be harangued by people. His fame is increasing - being with a western woman is borderline tabloid gossip, you see... When we got off, we hopped on the bike and rode through clean, fresh green countrysides bordered by palm trees and banyan trees with hanging roots of wood. We passed through small villages with school children and vegetable markets. It was peaceful and rural and very refreshing. We arrived at a place with two cottages only 10 feet from the sea. It was lovely and only 750 rupees per bungalow - that's about $14 USD. They agreed to cook us a local dinner of seafood. The place was perfect. We dropped our bags and proceeded 20 kms along the coast to a beautiful beach where I indulged in my favorite dish of channa masala and nan bread. He had a fish thali. Both were very inexpensive, but the view and the freedom was worth over $1 million USD. We sat overlooking this beach that went on forever and discussed the choices we've made in life. Both of us have gotten off the train of convention and chosen a life of exploration and freedom. As a result, here we were having a "million dollar lunch" - one, neither of us will ever forget.
We then went to another beach and Asif had a jog while I meditated into the sunset and sang and thanked Mother India for all of her love and gifts and graciousness and lessons. I cried. I sang. And then Asif and I met up again, went home, relaxed under the stars in the hammock and laughed and talked and laughed and talked through our yummy local dinner. He is an elegant, entertaining and charming companion. It was a sweet and beautiful day, a sweet and beautiful evening. It was in every way...perfect. The next morning, we enjoyed the beach air some more and after another local meal, we headed back to Mumbai. We lunched at Leopolds and he showed me the Taj and Chowpatty Beach on the way to the airport. The sun was setting behind a mosque in the middle of the water on which you're supposed to make a wish upon viewing. I wished for my sister to be cleansed by Dr. Geeta and for my own peace and ease in transition back home. I wished for Asif to have a peaceful life and again I shed a tear as I thanked and sang a song to beautiful, beautiful India for everything.
I arrived in India with a charming 25 year old English actor on the back of a 350cc Royal Enfield. And I departed India with a slightly older and more charming Bollywood actor on the back of a 350cc Royal Enfield. I cried both times. But, this time, it was full circle. India has loved me and I have loved it. I will always love this country.
Now, I sit in Bangkok. It's clean and organized and I'm not too interested in roaming about. I'm just very excited to go home and see my friends, family and the ocean. Yet, I can't help but feel the light of the cleanse, the light of India, the light of all the love I experienced and felt with my fellow travellers, fellow Indians, fellow experiences, and everything. I am so lucky. As Alex said when he dropped me off in India, "India will take care of you, and then you'll take care of India." The former is true and I don't question that I'll return someday to make the latter true as well. A connection has been made. Venus shined at me from the sky that last evening in India, just as it will back home. It is all connected. This universe is Divine. Dhanyuvad (thank you), dhanyuvad, dhanyuvad!
I love you, India.

Yoga in Pondicherry

A few days ago, I left Val to flow with the ripples of Mt. Arunachala and her own experience. I headed east to the Bay of Bengal to get some fresh air and a revival with yoga. As wonderful as a travel partner as Val could be, it was time to leave the meditative mountain and Val's theories about the master teacher Ayhuasca and to slip back into a yogic lifestyle that I could experience alone. Fresh air and the promise of yogic philosophies invited me to the 16th Annual Int'l Yoga Conference in Pondicherry.

From the perfunctory reports I'd heard from other people, I expected another polluted Indian city on the water. I was therefore pleased to enter the most beautiful Indian city I have seen to date. The Bay of Bengal abuts the wide, long tree lined boulevards peppered with vendors selling popcorn, Indian goodies and whirling whistles. Smiling Bengalis are vacationing and romancing eachother along the rocks, the women's scarves and saris fluttering in the wind while the wild waves of the Bay crash often and spew white foam into the refreshing unpolluted air. The town was designed by the french, so it feels a bit like New Orleans with the cobblestoned streets and perfectly appointed pastel buildings with painted doors and shutters and curling wrought iron light fixtures. It is safe, here. I can walk on the streets at night without any hassle and it's the perfect place to be alone in that regard. However, I finally FEEL alone and don't really see the point of doing it much longer.

There is a famous ashram here called Sri Aurobindo Ashram where a guru of the same name lived with his french partner known as "mother." Mother created the idea of Auroville - a community of international people living in peace and industry. There is a prime real estate parcel right on the Bay of Bengal at the end of the wide-lined boulevard which houses an ashram residential facility called Park Guest House. You can't stay here unless you're an ashramite, but it is rumored to be one of the classiest places in town. Naturally, I went directly there when I arrived. I walked into the gate, ignored the sign saying "sorry, we are full" and plopped myself onto a stool in the elegant lobby and patiently waited for the two ladies behind the desk to acknowledge me. They did so after a few moments and said "sorry maam, we are full." I smiled and asked if I could just ask two questions. First, do they know anything about the int'l yoga conference? "no." Second, do they have a recommendation re. where I could stay that evening as I'd just arrived and it was only a few hours until sunset. The elderly lady said something to the younger one in Tamil. The younger one said "wait." Within moments, they discovered that they had one room left and I was very lucky because it was a garden/ocean view room for only 200 rupees ($4 USD). She asked how long I wanted to stay: one week. She said there was a three day maximum. I said 'no problem, thank you so much' and ran to the rickshaw to fetch my backpack.

When I returned, I stared to fill out the registration paperwork. Just then, two stressed out american women - very pretty - but stressed - rushed into the office and said in a cursory, biting tone: "um, can you PLEASE not place my keys on the desk so anyone can just walk in and take it?!?" The young lady replied that all of the keys were left in that manner and there was no problem. "Well, can you just make an exception for me and put it in a drawer or something?!" the lady said as she practically shoved the key down the young lady's throat. The young lady took it in her hand and the american stormed away. She promptly placed it on the table with the rest of the keys. I kept my head down and kept writing. Then, the other american came in and said "the bike seat is too hard, do you have some sort of padding that I can use?" to which the ladies politely stated they did not. The american huffed out of the office with a yoga mat in hand and the elderly lady behind the desk started to say "please don't take the yoga mat from this site," but was rudely interrupted by the american who said in a patronizing, loud tone "yeah, lady, I know!" and all three of us let out a little gasp of air that she could be so rude to an elderly lady. I wanted to apologize for my countrypeople, but realized it was their own thing. This has bothered me for days. At first, I thought it was b/c this was who I would have to face on a regular basis: a stressed out society making way more out of reality than there was out of paranoia, fear and a sense of entitlement w/out any respect for elders or the fact that this was an ashram community, i.e. yogic ideals and principles of kindness, health and non-violence. But then, I realized that this bothered me b/c this was how I was before I left (at times). I was short, angry, curt and borderline abusive to people at times without thinking twice about it. These ladies were a mirror for me and a reminder of what I don't want to return to. I've come so far. I've softened so much...

So, as I'm thinking about how badly I feel that they represent my country, I remembered that I had an unbroken sealed, new package of dates. I took them out of my bag and presented them to the elderly lady. "Do you like dates, madam? I haven't opened these yet and I'd love to give them to you" came humbly out of my mouth. She smiled, declined, then said something to the other lady in Tamil again. The younger lady said to me in English, you can pay for two nights now. Come back after two days and we'll see. "And please, madam, if you are going to take sun in the garden, make sure you cover yourself - we are an ashram community after all." "This is fine," both ladies said as they gestured to my fully covered body in a tattered skirt, scarf and three quarter length shirt. I then realized that both americans were wearing tank tops and tight pants. No wonder they refused me at the inception - I bet they refuse a lot of westerners who don't care for their customs, traditions or ways in an ashram or in the whole of India.

Fortunately, I returned after two days to the same two ladies. I was wearing a long, flowing white dress and a white scarf and carrying a copy of Aurobindo's literature that I picked up in the canteen at breakfast. I tried to look as virtuous as possible. That morning, I asked the photo of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo that was hanging in my bedroom to please let me stay. I requested to stay another four days so I could attend the yoga conference and offered her a flyer of the schedule for her information. "Wait" said the younger lady. So, I put my head down and read. The older lady was watching me. I could feel it. I just tried to be radiant and respectful. "You may stay another four days, madam" said the older lady. I thanked them and left. That evening, I brought the elder lady flowers that I left with the younger one as a token of gratitude.

The room itself is heavenly. It overlooks the garden where I do my yoga every morning. That overlooks the Bay of Bengal. The sound of waves crashing and the cool bay breeze billow into my window and I have a magnificent view. I decided I wouldn't need the mosquito net supplied b/c of the breeze and a fan. Lo and behold, the first night I was eaten alive by mosquitoes. It's funny, b/c I haven't been attacked by anything except bedbugs once in Nepal the entire time I've been travelling. The next night, I used the net and all was well. But, my arms are covered with red lumps. It looks hideous. I met a Belgian man trying to find people to stay in his guest home in a fishing village. I asked him what he thought all the red bumps on my arms were. The next day, his protege picked me up on his scooter to show me the property and one of the first things he said was "how are your pimples, madam, do you need to see a doctor?" By this time, I figured out they were mosquito bites and just had to laugh and decline. I was reminded of the advice: "when it's no longer funny, it's time to go." As Park GH let me stay, I didn't stay at this man's property.

Later that day, I took a rickshaw to Sri Vast ashram in Auroville to see whether I'd like to spend a week getting spa treatments and ancient ayuverdic cleanses with an on-site guru who fuses self fulfillment with love of nature. On the way, I saw a sign to Ananda Ashram. This is the Ashram where my teacher in Thailand, David Goulet, studied for many years the science of yoga from Swami Gitananda. I went to the ashram and it was closed. There was a door that said "enter here, but only if you're happy." A man opened the door and said to come back later and I told him I couldn't b/c of the yoga conference later in the afternoon. I explained my teacher was a disciple of Swami Gitananda and I'd really love to see the ashram. "And I'm happy, see?" I said, as I smiled like a nerd. He laughed and let me in for two minutes. The yoga room was warm and stately. There were pictures of the deceased guru everywhere and it just felt really, really nice in that space. I bowed to the photos and walked slowly around to take in the space. Tears welled up in my eyes and I thanked the man as I swooned with the feeling of "this is where my teachings came from." It was beautiful and brief. I thanked the man and beamed back to the rickshaw.

The Sri Vast ashram site was beautiful, but dry and away from the beach and didn't make me swoom like Ananda ashram did. All the ashramites were out on a field trip with Guru Vast so I didn't get to see them. The place seemed nice enough, but it's almost $100 USD/day and that seems a bit much. I then considered whether I want to fly to the Andamans and relax on the beach. No. I then considred doing a vipassana retreat somewhere. No. I couldn't study at Ananda b/c they only have a six month teacher training course that started in Oct. I wished that I could take a class with Ananda, at the very least, to sip up some of their teaching before leaving India. I then went to Auroville Beach - open to Aurovillians and their guests only. I walked up to the gate and asked a man on his motorcycle if I could be his guest. "Oui, hop on" and off we went. I thanked him as I hopped off and went to the beach. It was odd. There were Indians on either side of the small beach gawking in a line at the white women in bikinis. The security guards kept them at a distance on either side and behind the Indians, the beach was crowded for miles with Indians in full dress enjoying the Bay. I stripped out of my clothes to go for a swim, but only went to my ankles as the water was dirty and there was garbage floating around in it. The waves and undertow were big and strong. So, I reclined on the beach, which was also somewhat dirty and soaked in some rays. A man came along and offered me some of his homemade honey which I licked off of my hand and didn't buy. He was sweet. His wife was selling jewelry to the ladies on the towel next to me. I covered up and we sat side by side watching her conducting the sale. I returned to the cafe, had an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie and observed the Aurovillians speaking french and smiling. They seemed very content and healthy. I realized I have no real skill to contribute to the community if I don't want to practice law. This made me sad. The smiling and happy families made me lonely. I suddenly wanted to go home. This feeling resurfaced from when I first walked along the Bay of Bengal and the breeze reminded me of the SF Bay and I felt homesick.

So, I returned to Pondicherry and attended the yoga conference. Lo and Behold, the entire conference is put on by Ananda and was started 16 years ago by Swami Gitananda. My wish to have some teachings from this place culminated in a four-day conference! I haven't yet gone to see the competition, but I have attended a series of lectures this morning on yoga as a way of life and yoga and health. They are fascinating and resonate deeply with the teachings I acquired in Thailand. Yoga is more than postures, it's a way of living, being, eating, believing, experiencing and feeling. Music to my ears! I'll check out the competition after this blog. It seems very unyogic, but a nice way of seeing the strangeness that India puts to just about everything. I approached the head teacher of Ananda (Gitananda's wife) and told her of David, my teacher. She invited me to practice asanas with them tomorrow morning at 6 a.m., so I will! Wish fulfilled. I told her I may apply for the teacher training program. She smiled. I may. Who knows?

So, here I am in India. I certainly feel that it's time to come home. All the options of paradise, spirituality and contentment are not appealing from the outside, anymore. I feel complete and good, but very homesick. I want to come home to the paradise of SF, my family, my community, my teachers Rusty and Janet and the sweetness that I feel when I think about being . I saw a lady that walked like my mother and it made me wistful. When I spoke with the elder lady at the ashram about the partition of India, she reminded me of my grandmother and I grew wistful. Life is precious and short in this time. I want to celebrate it with those who I love, those who I know. How very, very lucky I am to have travelled all this way and been taken care of so beautifully by mother India. Now it is time to go home and just BE with those who I love in the place where I'm from. Lead the yogic lifestyle of health, kindness, philosophy, faith, kindness and connection. God, I love this life!

I am thrilled to have obtained the very last room directly on the sea at Park Guest House. My room overlooks the meditative garden and the ocean breeze lulls me to peace all the while. I do my asanas in the morning in the garden and walk along the Bay of Bengal whenever I leave to explore Pondicherry. I am further pleased that the entire conference has been run by the guru, Swami Gitananda of ICYER/Ananda Ashram, of one of my greatest yoga teachers. I am therefore resonating deeply with the conference and its message. Every person that I meet is of the same vibration and I'm obtaining lots of insights and ideas about bringing yoga into my western life when I return back home. I also am increasingly encouraged to return to Ananda Ashram for its six month teacher training course, if only to deepen my knowledge of the science of yoga. It holds no end of fascination for me.

Arunachala New Year

In the state of Tamil Nadu, there is a town called Tiruvannamalai and in this town there is a mountain called Arunchala. It is not spectacular and imposing like the Himalayas that I trekked through in Ladakh in Zanskar and drove past in Nepal. Instead, it is said to be the oldest mountain in the world, created from the fire of Shiva. It is, the people here say, pure 100% Shiva energy. For those of you not familiar with Hindu lore, Shiva represents the pure masculine destructive force and regenerative arising that is created from that destruction, like phoenix from the ashes. When combined with divine feminine shakti energy, the union of masculine and feminine creates life. Thus, Shiva is the life force, highly revered in India, as represented by billions of lingums (phallic symbols) in just about every nook and cranny of India.
I like Shiva. A lot. He slays what doesn't serve the highest purpose of one in one's life and starts over from nothing. In a way, I'm kindof going back to that. And what I realize, as with Shiva, is that starting from nothingness is a beautiful way to live. It doesn't take leaving your life or anything dramatic and draconian to reach a state of nothingness, it's merely a recognition that something happened and letting it pass by without completely attaching to it and losing yourself in external circumstances. So, if something happens, I respond, I notice the response, let it go and start over, fresh and new for the next thing that happens. Not bad.
I wonder as the weeks of this journey come to an end, what on earth will I do when I go home?
Something will happen? I'll return home. People will ask "so what are you going to do now" and I'll get that crunchy feeling in my stomach and it will start knotting all around in response....OR I'll breathe into that crunchy part, let it go, say "I'm not sure" and trust that in truth, not knowing, not being attached to anything, not even having a plan, is exactly where I need to be. In fact, I have a world of opportunities awaiting me - meeting me - wherever I go.

This mountain is famous because a guru named Maharani Ramana meditated in one of the caves for 19 years and reached enlightenment. When he was a boy of 16 years old in stellar health, he had a sudden fear of death overtaking him...and he panicked. He then realized that death of the body is not death of the mind. He asked himself again and again, "who am I?" And he kept coming back to "I am not the body, I am not the doer." My understanding is that the essence of his realization was that the universe moves us along as players on the playboard of life and everything is interconnected. Thus, nothing matters and no one matters. If we realize this, there is no panic about what and where and who. "But, what about real life?" I think, "bills and babies (I may have someday?) and jobs, etc." "How does one implement this 'I am not the body business' into actual business?!?" Well, again, it comes to feeling your body, feeling that most of the time, I let external situations determine my experience, rather than feeling from the inside out. If I encounter something and I have a feeling, do I ask how I feel or react? I've always reacted. I've always taken it personally. Yet, there has never been anything personal. Perhaps, a better way to just relax and feel good in this world is just to feel my body in any situation from the inside out, breathe so I am relaxed and recognize that whatever drama is happening around me is just part of the play of life and I am an observer. Just an observer. Yes, every action has a reaction. So, why not react in a way that is from love and peace and calm, not fear or resentment or personal pride? This is what I've resolved to do for 2009: be in the body and be calm. No matter what. Happy New Year.

I've been trying this system out in Tiruvannamalai and I feel calm and peaceful and very serene. It's a world of difference from Kerala and the way I felt there. I remind myself that the world of litigiation made me as agitated and frustrated as Kerala. As soon as I left Kerala and came to Tamil Nadu, I felt lighter and better. This may be evidence that the surroundings DO matter as far as vibrational frequencies are concerned. Layering the Ramana Maharishi "I am not the doer" logic on top of the law of physics, I do believe we are susceptible to the vibrational frequencies in the world because we can't control those frequencies. If we can't change the facts, we CAN change the way we deal with them. Kerala wasn't working. I calmed down, stopped resisting so much, tried to see the beauty, and things changed for the better. But, it still didn't feel right. A rugged Australian traveller told me, "when you're doing the wrong thing, it just spits you out." In a way, I feel litigation did that to me: "[Spat] Get outta here lady, what the f#*! are you doing here, anyway?" And so, here I am. I like the circumstances in Tamil better. I think I may like a profession that is not litigation better. I'll just go with the vibrational frequency. FEEL it. Period.

Now for the question of "Who am I?" Well that's a tough one. I'm no one, nothing and everyone, everything. I feel all emotions all the time. I'm a whirling dervish of sensations and I am as radiant as I've ever been. Why? Because I've been exploring. Not only the world, but myself from the inside out. And I love it. I wish for everyone to have such a journey. No one can quite tag me when they meet me. I may be an American. Most people guess that I'm French. I may have been a lawyer. Most people can't guess what I've been before, but they're not surprised when I say I teach yoga. I used to squeeze into size 10 and now I can squeeze into a size 6 (barely). I used to be brunette and now my hair is gold. I am 35. Most people guess I'm in my late 20s. I'm about to return home. No one can guess where I'm from. My faith in god comes from the experiences I have in my body through yoga, through nature, through connected vibrations. Most people guess that I have no faith. So, that just goes to prove, who I am is always changing depending on the observer, the circumstances, the way the question is considered. As I consider who I am, I just feel like a lucky little peon on this orb of existence fluttering away in a little space creating and responding to other ripples in the universe. That's it. There's something very refreshing in that realization. Do you get it? I hope so.

This place is filled with spiritual seekers. There are more satsangs and bhajans and ashrams and yoga and spiritual healing and new age seekers here than I've seen in the whole of one Earthdance Festival. The thing is that these are older seekers from all around the world. They're open. They're kind. They've got the same judgmental superiority air of "I was here first" as anyone anywhere. But, they're all here for the purpose of going within, asking "who am I" and radiating with the vibrational frequncy of Shiva via Mt. Arunchula. Who am I to say it's all a bunch of new age mumbo jumbo masquerading as an ancient indian guru secret? I've experience peace here. I've experienced inner exploration. So have they. Something works with this formula. And then it doesn't. But that's just life.

I walk along the street and a bus misses me by inches. I don't panic, I notice it, thank God that I didn't just die and keep walking. If I die, that's it. Time to go. I can't control it. Of course, I could avoid walking near buses, but in India, they seem to appear out of nowhere. Everything does all the time, but I finally understand how in the midst of all this chaos and near death collissions everywhere, the Indians are so calm. They're just flowing within and without. Peaceful. Santosha. My theme for 2008 was santosha/contentment. Just in the nick of time, I got it. I felt it. I experienced it. Thank you India. Thank you very much. Thank you Kyra and the universe, etc. Now I'll stop rambling and get to some storytelling...

Val and I are cramped into a little tiny ashram room with a full size bed. She's 5'11 and I'm 5'9". Her nose is often almost nestled into my armpit and somehow, we've adjusted to this sleeping arrangement. There are horns and bells and fireworks and people yelling and cows moving and clanging carts just outside of our window and we simply wear ear plugs to maintain some peace. We have no sink, just a bucket and a faucet - at least it's running water. And it's clean. But, it's funny. It's funny to think of my luxurious penthouse apartment in San Francisco and her even fancier one on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. Yet...here we are. Like this. Who knew?

There's a lady named ShivaShakti here who is supposed to be a transmission of the divine bliss. People go to sit in a room. She walks in, sits down then walks around once to look at each person in the eye. This is supposed to be a divine transmission of grace. I was a bit skeptical. I sit down, she comes in, she is tiny and very peaceful looking. She looks at me and without blinking manages to send me a twinkling little warm fuzzy from her eyes. I'm tickled. I return the next day and she does it again. This time I send her a warm fuzzy back and her lips curl into a bit of a smile. I think. Anyway, I love that all the people are here, again, just to experience some kindness, some love, some bliss from the universe. They can revere anybody, I don't care, I just love that they aspire to this and they live it. I admire them for it.

And who knows? It's quite possible that people can transmit energy through their body unto another. I experienced this several times: once with Baba Hari Das on New Year's Day 2007. I was so sad and disconnected from others after years of litigation and a bad break up with a man that broke my heart. When I finally felt more sad than I ever had before, I asked him what this was. He told me sadness is the necessary first step for any spiritual journey and I could either lose my mind to the pain or merge with the pain, keep a strong mind and my path would unfurl. I didn't know what he meant, but I realized that my prior path was no doubt of the losing my mind bent and I didn't know what to do. All I knew was that I wanted out of the pain of living a life that made me feel isolated, alone and very sad. As soon as I decided I wouldn't live like this anymore and that I'd try to merge with the pain instead of ignoring it and keep a strong mind instead of a skeptical and dismissive one, I decided to surrender and just trust that the universe would flow exactly as it needed to. When I made that decision, he looked at me and I swear to God that white gold light went straight from his third eye to mine and down my shushumuna and it cradled my sadness like a lotus flower in my belly in a pool of white gold light. With one look, this man connected me with the bliss that I could see and not feel from everyone around me. blew my mind as I would never have believed this could happen. But it did. So it is possible that certain enlightened beings can transmit light to us? Absolutely. I had to experience it to believe it. But, it's not always good...

Sometimes, power and reverence exacted by devotees can go too far. I heard that a self proclaimed avatar named 'Adi Da' passed out of his body, i.e. died, last month. It made me remember something very uncomfortable that happened to me in late Sept. 2006. I had several acquaintances in San Francisco that are devotees of Adi Da. They refer to him as 'Beloved' and they revere him and sign a contract that dedicates their life to him. I went to a two day play written by him that explains his journey to consciousness because my friend was in it and I wanted to support her. I was also curious about how someone so smart and sophisticated could willingly devote herself to another like this. The play was performed in their commune in Lake County. Adi Da was on his island in Fiji at the time. My friend did a great job in a play that I found dark and disturbing. At the end of the play, I was informed that Adi Da's assistant called from Fiji to see who I was b/c my name appeared on the attendee list and I wasn't a devotee. "This is great news, perhaps he'll come to you in a dream now, he has that power, and he knows who you are" mused my friends. I was not happy to hear this, nor did I believe for a second that it would. So, I went to bed that night and sure enough, he came. Five times, he appeared in front of me with open arms and loomed all around me. I didn't like it. I didn't want him. I asked him to leave. He wouldn't. Five times, I wrestled myself awake only to fall back into this looming presence around me in my sleep again. It felt like wrestling with a tiger. Fierce and indominatable. I finally went to my mantle and prostrated on my lambskin rugs before my boddhi sattva. I said, "please make him go, please make him go, please make him go" and I cried because I was terrified. Nothing like this had ever happened to me and I was terrified. I returned to sleep and he was gone. I later learned in Thailand that the best protection a beginning yogi has on her path is to sing a mantra to protect against encrosion by dark powers. I guess this is what I did. Of course, at the time, I wasn't a yogini. I didn't practice yoga. I didn't sing mantras. In fact, I didn't even know what the bodhi sattva was - I just saw him at an antique store and had to buy him because I though he was absolutely beautiful. So, this was my first time recognzing that there are powers that can't be explained. The power of Adi Da to transmute to my dreams and the power of me to be divinely guided to protect myself by prostrating to a boddhi sattva and doing a mantra of "please make him go." When I heard that Adi Da passed away, I was reminded of this experience. It used to make me feel like I was a lunatic. But, I come to a place like this and I see that while there may be many fakes out there, there are certainly many people capable of transmitting SOMETHING to other people. Who knew?
The reason this came up is because a beautiful french man named Allen who has been coming here for years told me he may move to Fiji with a group of people to start an ashram like community. He invited me to come. My first thought was that I didn't want to be near Adi Da. When he said he had passed, I was relieved. Then, I went down this path of what is real? who am I? are all these new agers crazy or actually on to something? i believe they're on to something. I didn't answer the frenchman. But, it's a nice offer. My yoga teacher in Thailand is starting a new yoga university and community in the Phillipines. He sent me an email about it. I could help in that tropical paradise, too. Another nice possibility.

On to men...well, India has been very kind to me on this front. It seems I have a golden spark. Wherever we go, we meet beautiful men. These men treat Val and I beautifully and I have had several sweet encounters with men from around the world. Without expending so much as an effort, I've received massages, presents, compliments, tours, meals, gifts, inspiring quotes and even poems from males around the world ranging in age from 23 to 53. It's as mind blowing as these spiritual transmissions, really. It just keeps coming and coming and coming...who knew? The most recent came from a Bulgarian that I danced with last night at the New Year's Eve party. He told me he has been seeing me for the past few days and I am one of the most radiant women he has ever seen. All he wanted to do was kiss my hand and press it to his heart. It was very sweet. Another frenchman told me the highlight of his day was my smell as we sang alongside eachother at his house with a group of people. Rather than taking offense at my singing abilities, I'll just accept that this was another little dollup of appreciation from man to woman. As I am wearing no perfume or deoderant, I can only appreciate the naturalness of the compliement. This man also wanted nothing from me - just to tell me what he appreciated about me.
I've become acutely aware in this place of spiritual seekers just how important it is to have that inner glow coming from within as opposed to outside. Of course, I love the attention and compliements, etc. that I get from these men, but it no longer determines my sense of self worth as it did before. I didn't feel complete if I wasn't wanted in some way. I grew angry, fat and resentful as a result and wasn't at all lovable. Now, I finally got that the love comes from within and I no longer need male affection to feel delicious. As a result, the men come in droves wherever we go and it's really quite funny. It's also funny because Valerie is gorgeous and I would expect all attention to go only to her, but with whatever I've got going, there's plenty of appreciation for me, too. Who knew?

I take all of this love and appreciation and go to satsangs where people discuss their struggles with a philosopher/spiritualist. They all say the same as Buddha: go within. A polished man with a rolex says the same as the bare chested yogi from Switzerland as the babas asking for baksheesh outside the ashrams as the gurus say in their books and teachings. Just go within. I attend bhajans where people sing their devotions to all thegod of the Hindu pantheon - rather than a multiGod focus, it's merely a focus on various aspects of one God. In song. It's a pleasure. Again, it comes from within to sing out with others in devotion. I go to pujas, ceremonies with fires and chanting and incense and flowers and ritual and singing - I feel the love of these people as they send their love to "Mt. Arunchala"and "Ramana" and it brings me such a sweet sense of peace to be here in the midst of all this devotion.

When I return to the United States, it will be tough not to besurrounded by such love and devotion all the time. Will the men and the compliments and the invitations and the opportunities continue to flow? Will life just provide for me? Will I keep an open mind and learn from the hardships, breathe easy through close calls and give thanks every single day for being alive? Well, if I'm in my body and clear, I think the answer is yes, yes, yes.

I don't know, but I trust. As I started 2008 to surrender and trust that there is an unbroken wholeness in flowing movement, I flow into 2009 with a deeper truth - the realization that love and life is ongoing always and all I can do is feel it in my bones - live it in my heart - and life will continue to be exactly what it should be. Even if that means living in spartan conditions and not being a lawyer anymore. Life is love. Happy New Year!