☆ what a year it’s been… my focus was to say “f*ck the system“/ social norms & expectations, be true to where I am at, stop putting off what’s important to me until “a better time”
~ I stopped taking time for granted (in honour of my precious friend)
and started living for NOW ~ taking opportunities, stretching myself further than I unconsciously limited myself to (we are all capable of so much more), seeing what’s important and letting go of what just… isn’t.
~ living and doing and being with heightened awareness can lead you places you never imagined, some scary & vulnerable, some exciting & inspiring, all challenging but so mentally, physically, spiritually rewarding ~
Everything is temporary. Stop resisting evolution, growth and change. That’s the only constant.
LET GO & LET YOURSELF FLY
“whatever you do, or dream you can, BEGIN IT! Boldness has genius, power & magic in it”
This year has been in your honour and I never thought I’d be at peace with losing you
Yes, grief comes in waves (or trucks or trains)
And of course there are moments I reach for my phone and want to tell you about another of my ridiculous stories (that you used to call “episodes in an inspiring but hilarious adventure“)
Of course I still want to laugh at ourselves til we cry, together
And cry til we laugh
So, yes, I’ve lived this year as if it were my last
’cause who would have known that last year was yours, in this fragile & temporary human body, with this emotional & sensitive human heart.
But somehow I still feel an incredibly real connection to you
Whenever I need it, even when I don’t
Is it my wonderfully powerful imagination? I don’t really care
For me it’s a knowing, without explanation
An awareness that you’re at peace (and still laughing along with me… but not crying. There are no more tears where you are.)
I’ll see you soon, Les. But for now, I hope I’m making you proud (and still making for entertaining viewing from above).
This year has been in your honour.
and so will every year ahead ♡
I’m trying to keep my balance after coming back home, avoiding old routines, bettering my days & rearranging my world in a more peaceful & light way.
Tomorrow I’m starting the 1 week Happiness Programme at The Art of Living. I’m not sure what it entails
but for the evenings of this week and this weekend there will be expansion of the soul and
awareness, that makes me feel good and fuzzy.
I’ll admit I’m turning into abit of an awareness junky. I’ve never been into small talk ~ but more so now than ever I want to have conversations that matter: the meaning of life, death, hopes, fears, questions, what keeps you up at night, what do you daydream about, what do you believe in, music that makes you feel stuff, memories. More questions – with people who are also reaching higher and deeper. So much around me seems so superficial & I’m retreating from it – finding it harder and harder to be human, at home on this planet.
I wish I knew what was going on on a cosmic level. Yeah, some moments I feel untouchable. Unfuckwithable. And some moments I’m just aching inside and I don’t know what for… it’s like being homesick… or missing something that I don’t even know and then next moment I’m super content in just being again.
I want to do a journalism course also, which is a more serious thought, but I want to take my writing and curiosity of the world and the written word further.
There is so much I want to do and I just need to keep the faith that while I’m living my life I’ll stumble upon the kind of life-partner and love I dream about. No more duds. No more heart breakers and soul-suckers. I just can’t do these shallow connections anymore… f*ck,which means, I may not make any love-connections again!
**she trails off in a daydream ~ ~~~makes me miss my Berlin adventure 》damn I had fun! all loved up and care free 》 Was literally worry-less 90% of the time. what bliss that was 》 just happy and trusting 》 like a naive little dumb deer 》 blissfully unaware, mindlessly following~~ ~**
I need to believe that this is the path, that I’m on the right path. That I’m not isolating myself from the physical world, that this is my way forward. I guess it comes down to most of my year being consciously and subconsciously focused on a guy and “me in relation to him” – not “me in relation to me” – (that makes sense now that I put it that way)…
When travelling it’s easier to get caught up in yourself but when coming back home I guess I naturally want to have a “someone” and not having one is actually ok… and now isn’t forever… if I could comfortably (and often not even comfortably) give myself and my thoughts and actions to a guy for 6 months then why can’t I comfortably (and also uncomfortably) give that same focus and time to myself for 1 month or even 2. Why am I afraid it will become an ALWAYS? I need to stop projecting fear and not finding and replace it with courage and belief in receiving what I need when I’m ready. This is the path.
I don’t usually post photographs of my food, but with this magnificent bowl of colourful goodness comes a great story. This picture, a necessary illustration.
I needed something fresh and cool and chili-free for the first time since being in India. But I’ve avoided anything “western” until today.
I found myself sitting at Funky Monkey Cafe and after about 45 minutes my order presented itself: coconut, grapes, dates, pomegranate, banana, almonds, papaya, kiwi, apple, muesli and curd…
“Ah! Wow! Beautiful!!” I said
Then my young, very sweet and smiley waiter, Summer, sat down nearby.
I noticed he was watching me take each bite, “Is good? Is okay?”
“Absolutely amazing! Thank you!” I said
“It my first time I make this”
“REALLY? It’s the BEST!”
After a little more broken English exchange I discovered he’d also never tasted the combination of muesli, fruit and curd. I immediately served him up some and encouraged him to try it for the first time.
His eyes lit up. He nodded and chewed and chewed and nodded and seemed very impressed with himself.
I watched him eat every last bite.
~ To the relentless hooting that never gave up
~ To the magical chaos and colour
~ To that constant underlying smell of pee & incense
~ To the little kids who begged for food then offered me some
~ To the strangers who spoke to me like old friends about G*d, creation & love
~ To the heat, chillies & sun salutations
~ To the street-food-wallah who cooked me fresh samoosas rather than the ones he’d prepared “only 10 minutes before” due to the slightly (massively) sceptical look on my face
~ To the chai-wallah who gave me a little extra because he claimed I “have a light” in my eyes
~ To the monkeys for the hours of amusement
~ To the electricity for choosing the best times to go out
~ To the wonderful ventilation and water pressure in the bathrooms (*jokes jokes)
~ To the frogs for helping me keep my sense of humour in the ‘shower’ (*no jokes)
~ To the sunrises that lifted me.
~ To the sunsets that said “rest!everything’s alright”
~ To the 36 000 000 Gods, I think one of you heard me.
~ To India,
for for being utterly unapologetic
for being everything and nothing that I expected,
I thank you.
On this final day, it’s almost midnight and my body, mind and soul are smiling. I’m almost too tired to write this but I simply need to reflect and milk this beautiful day the same way, if not more, than I seem to milk the sad or emotionally turbulent ones.
I made the decision last night to wake up an hour earlier and go do a meditation practice before yoga. I then opened “Wherever you go, there you are: Mindful Meditation”, the book I’m reading, and it spoke exactly to that ~ the power of waking up early to meditate, living consciously and starting your day with the best possible advantage.
“By grounding yourself in mindfulness early in the morning, you are reminding yourself that things are always changing, that good and bad things come and go, and that it is possible to embody a perspective of constancy, wisdom, and inner peace as you face any conditions that present themselves.”
So that’s what I did, even though my thoroughly Hatha’d body and restless mind were sleepy, I got up and in meditation I took myself through an aura cleansing (my google search from the night before is quite amusing), a visualization of gold light running through me and clearing out all the crap, followed by wrapping myself in bright white clear, protective light. And then the sun rose over the mountain and I felt it hit my eyelids.
Yoga was great. The repetition of the same poses (or very slight variations) can feel monotonous but at the same time seeing progress and knowing what’s next so therefore fully committing to pushing yourself just that much further is an incredible discipline. I appreciate this method a lot.
After yoga it was time, not to even begin the shower head water negotiation but, to crouch under the tap and wash my hair again. Lathered from head to toe and feeling the fresh water wash away yesterday’s turmoil til the water ran clear.
Then I blew my hair dry, yes I did, because today was the Puja (Hindu prayer ritual ceremony) at the house. I was wrapped in a fuscia sari and sat apart of the most beautiful burning of woods and ghee and sprinkles of holy water and marigolds. And red paint and rice dotted between my eyes. And mantras and singing. And holding hands to the blessed fire and bowing our heads.
It was long and hot and smokey and all I literally understood was SHANTI (PEACE) but I felt like I understood everything else too, the Sanskrit and Hindi took on its own translation in my ears and I felt a personal connection to this ceremony. I shed a hidden tear as the emotion welled up in my eyes, although I could have blamed it on the aromatic smoke, I chanted words and gave them my own heart.
Then I got a reeth of marigolds put around my neck and was fed a sweet dough. I was blessed. I am blessed. I need to get smacked in the head with a shanti stick when I get so caught up in letting the world around me, define me. The world within is so much kinder and more loyal and forgiving, perhaps my mind isn’t, but there is love and compassion in my heart and I need to let it flow through me… Not straight out of me without touching sides. Something in me has woken up.
I rested ever so slightly this afternoon and had my lecture, yoga routine and dinner. I was then rewrapped in my sari (a slightly different style) and although I was (am) knackered I went with Deepa to the festival of dancing again. And, oh my, I felt like I was the star in my own Bollywood movie. Whirling and twirling and clicking sticks to the beat and getting lost in a sea of Saris in all colours, patterns and sizes.
Walking back home, passing the sleeping cows in the road (so normal now), lifting my Sari skirt over whatever strange unrecognizables lay in the half-moon lit street, I realized “I am here. This is it. I am doing what I dreamed of and more.” And I thought my laissez-faire attitude toward India and just going with it when I got here was turning out to be a terribly misguided, unrealistic notion. But look how it’s worked out for me. A week of yoga in a beautiful town, living a fully immersed existence with this family. I thought I wanted an ashram experience. What I really wanted was a yoga course home stay. It found me.
I’m going to nod off in this warmly satisfied state. All is well. There’s something making it all work out in the end.
**Thank you for hearing me when I couldn’t even understand what I was wanting for myself.**
OM shanti ~ Namaste
And Good night ☆