2015

2015 was… intense. Lots of good things happened, but nothing was easy. There were tons of obstacles, uncertainty and many occasions when I thought something was almost resolved, just to find out it was not. This was a pattern in 2015, for me anyway.

I bought a house, something I had been dreaming of doing for over 10 years. That was very exciting, but so, so scary. The whole process started around February with me actually making the decision to go for it. Then I guess it was April when I started looking. It didn’t take me long to find the house I am in today, but there were many times when I thought it would not happen, all the way to two weeks before the closing. Issues with inspection, lack of communication between the parties, no clear answers, confusion, mass confusion. It was really stressful.

Then, well, I got through all that, closed in early July and moved to my new home by mid July. I never worked so hard in my life!

I have a condo I bought in 2006 and the original plan was to sell it to buy the house, but since the prices dropped so dramatically from 2006 to 2015, I decided to rent out the condo – but I decided to rent in out furnished. And since I was on a tight budget, I had to be resourceful. And I happen to enjoy a good challenge, so I made a pact with myself to furnish the whole apartment for free (or as cheaply as possible)… by using stuff I got from Freecycle.org. It was a very interesting experience. I met a lot of very nice people who, like me, don’t like to waste anything and find pleasure in helping others.

So, basically between April and July, I spent a lot of my “free” time driving to places to pick up furniture, with the help of friends, some hired help, U-Haul trucks… but I got it done. Then after some minor construction, a few minor repairs and lots of cleaning and arranging (and again, precious help for friends), the apartment was ready to show by early August.

After some twists and turns, changes of plans, people who changed their minds weeks before moving in etc., I finally got the apartment rented by end of September.

Then I had some major issues with the condo board. All the while I was trying to paint and organize my new house. Oh, did I mention I had a new kitten? Yes, adopted Gracie before I closed on the house. Crazy move, I know, but she’s my little fellow now, she always is where I am. Like right now, she’s sitting between me and the computer and I need to type around her. I’ve develop a technique by now…

By mid October the stress level just got to a point that I didn’t think I could take any more. It was just too much. I hadn’t been sleeping well for months, was exhausted, sleep deprived and frazzled. I had regrets. The “should haves” were rampant…

But, like they say, we sometimes need to hit rock bottom to finally ask for help. So on a Sunday morning when I had reached my wit’s end and couldn’t stop crying, I sat down (Gracie joined me, cuddling on my chest) and just chanted my heart out for over an hour. I just asked God to take over because I clearly was not doing a good job steering the ship. I was crumbling and everything else seemed to be crumbling with me and the more I gripped, the worse things got.

Then… just like the blue sky after a big storm… things started to open up. I could think more clearly and realized that we get what we put out. I was getting defensive, snappy, self righteous. And was getting back (from the people I was dealing with) more of the same. Once I moved from a place of kindness and openness, things changed almost magically. As Einstein said, “A problem cannot be solved by the same level of consciousness that created it.”

I also had tons of issues with the house. Undisclosed problems, unexpected expenses. But, one by one, I took care of them all. As well as I could.

And at some point in November, I finally started to feel at home. I finally relaxed and realized it was fine if I didn’t finish painting the whole house by a certain date. Or if I didn’t work on the garden till Spring 2016.

So, 2015 was not an easy or calm year. It was crazy, intense, difficult, agitated. Many times it felt like I was being tossed around in a dryer. But I learned so much and accomplished a lot too.

Life as a landlady is good. I am very lucky with my tenants, a group of very considerate and honest young men.

Not to leave important things out, in 2015 I also fell in love and had a car accident. My heart is healing. The car is fixed. Lost a relative, my uncle Teodoro, who was 96 years-old and lived a beautiful, long, productive life. I also had to say goodbye to some dear friends, who moved in different directions. And got my meditation practice back, thanks to all the upheaval of the year. I needed something to keep me sane… or somewhat sane.

Took me a while to get this out. This was saved in drafts for weeks. But I feel good about posting it. Moving on… feels like 2015 is finally over. Happy new year!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A reason, a season or a lifetime

Source: A reason, a season or a lifetime

A reason, a season or a lifetime

Someone once told me “People come into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime”. It’s true, I guess, but I don’t really like it.

I have a very intense personality, so if I like someone, I want them to stay in my life forever. I don’t want them to teach me something and move on. Or to stay with me for a season and say goodbye. I want the lifetime deal.

I recently had to say goodbye to someone who was in my life very briefly, only 10 weeks – part of Summer and early Fall. Less than a full season.

It’s very difficult and very painful. I can see the reasons why we met. I see how much I’ve learned about myself, how much I still need to grow. I can see how much my impatience gets the best of me and how I forget all the wonderful things I’ve learned on the spiritual path when things don’t go my way. I see how much more work I still have to do and will keep doing for the rest of my life. Progress, not perfection, right?

The problem is: I don’t know how to do anything halfway. I dive in. I merge. I want it all. I want to be in it 100% or not. I don’t simply dip my toes in the water, I jump right in, clothes and all.

Then I want the lifetime deal. And the lifetime deal sometimes is not meant to be – I guess. Not sure how this stuff works, to be honest. Will not pretend to. There’s the whole issue of karma and timing and agendas and this and that. Making a relationship work, in my experience, has been like trying to line up the planets.

But I am no victim. I knew the risks (there are always risks), I knew what I was getting myself into. It was beautiful, it was good, it was intense, it was expansive. And I wish it could have lasted, even though the chances were very slim from day 1.

One of the beautiful lessons from the Ramayana (the story of Rama) is: “the only way out is through”. To overcome any pain, we need to get through it, feel it, sit with it, explore it. Then, when time is right, we come out through the other side renewed, hopefully purified.

Roles

Well, it’s been a long time since my last post. A very long time…

So much has happened, and so much of it I wanted to share, but life just got too fast paced, too busy, too crazy, and I couldn’t get to it. But now I’m in the process of reconnecting with the things that are truly important in my life. And writing is one of the those things.

Recently, a new friend read my (very few) blog posts and his comments reminded me of how much I missed writing.

Today I want to talk about “roles” – a theme I’ve been thinking about a lot for the last several weeks.

This may sound repetitive to some, but new information to others. And it’s a very strong theme in my life right now.

So, we all have several roles in life, right? We are wives, husbands, moms, dads, teachers, managers, officers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters. What we are is a sum of all these roles, plus something (a lot) more profound. I guess there’s nothing wrong with having roles. They may give us purpose and remind us of our obligations. The problem arises when we identify with those roles, meaning, we think we ARE that. We may go around bragging about being a MOM or an ACCOUNT EXECUTIVE or a TEACHER or a DAD or what-have-you. By our own doing, that thing becomes our identity, to the point that we wouldn’t recognize ourselves outside of that role.

Then, what happens when, God forbid, that’s taken away from us? If we identify with that role so profoundly, when that is gone, what’s left?

I read an article once about a man who committed suicide because he lost all his money in Bernard Madoff’s Ponzi scheme. That really left an impression on me as someone who was so identified with the role of “investor” or “wealthy” that, once that was taken away from him, he had no reason to exist.

I work in corporate and I always observe these things… I guess you can notice that everywhere, but it seems to be so strong in the corporate world. I am the CEO. I am the President. I am the VP of this or that or something else… and I, of course, am not immune to that. I catch myself sometimes getting “territorial” about my roles and claiming rights based on them, and looking for a sense of self worth based on those roles.

That’s where the yoga philosophy steps in to remind me: I am not my title.  I am not my salary. I am not my house. I am not my bank account. I am not my belongings. I am not what people perceive me to be. I am not my body. I am not my outfits. I am not even my intelligence or my skills. I am definitely not my thoughts or my feelings (those are so misleading!). I am so much more that that. We all are so much more that that.

Once all that is stripped off, we are still us, creatures of God, worthy of love, connected to the source. As important as those roles may be, why would anyone want to limit themselves to them? What’s that in us that fear being bigger, more expansive, more fluid, a part of the whole?

That exploration never ends… I am (as I hope you are) always looking for paths which will lead me back to myself, to my essence, to who I REALLY AM once all the layers are pilled away, once all the makeup is washed away, once all the pretense wears off… we are part of divine creation, therefore divine in our own right. We come from love, so we ARE love. Believe it!

“All my instincts/ They return/ And the grand façade/ So soon will burn/ Without a noise/ Without my pride/ I reach out from the inside”

The Dallas Buyers Club

The Cosmic Yes

Nothing like a good movie to put things back in perspective, right? I am a movie lover, a big time one. I am one of those people who knows who worked in what, and I get so much from the messages some movies try to portray.

I just finished watching Dallas Buyers Club. Cried my eyes out, a real catharsis, I have to say. For so many reasons. I never really liked Matthew MacConaughey, but man, did he do a great job this time. In a nutshell, the story is about a homophobic/ chauvinistic/ hard living cowboy from Dallas in the 80’s who gets diagnosed with AIDS and is given a month to live. And through a bunch of twists and turns, he gets into the alternative treatments for AIDS and realizes how corrupt the FDA is.

So much can be said on that, but not to make this too long, I want to…

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The Dallas Buyers Club

Nothing like a good movie to put things back in perspective, right? I am a movie lover, a big time one. I am one of those people who knows who worked in what, and I get so much from the messages some movies try to portray.

I just finished watching Dallas Buyers Club. Cried my eyes out, a real catharsis, I have to say. For so many reasons. I never really liked Matthew MacConaughey, but man, did he do a great job this time. In a nutshell, the story is about a homophobic/ chauvinistic/ hard living cowboy from Dallas in the 80’s who gets diagnosed with AIDS and is given a month to live. And through a bunch of twists and turns, he gets into the alternative treatments for AIDS and realizes how corrupt the FDA is.

So much can be said on that, but not to make this too long, I want to concentrate on two things: HIV and judgment. 

This whole blog started as a way to share what I’ve been learning on my spiritual path. And part of the learning process, for me, is brutal honesty. We don’t really learn anything if we’re not honest with ourselves. So here goes: I am judgmental. Very. And I’ve been working on not being so. That’s where awareness comes in. But awareness without kindness can be unbearable – trust me, I’ve been there: the question that comes up most when you’re aware of your faults but not kind to yourself is “so now I know where I am coming short, and where do I go from here?”

That’s where meditation has helped me. Julie Pasqual, a wonderful friend of mine who took the same yoga teacher’s training I did, once said meditation would help me not to beat myself up so much. And she was right! Meditation has helped me to notice things, nod and move on. Or choose to stay with them for a while, but all with compassion. So I am judging, uh? Oh, OK, that’s where we are right now. Moving on. It’s a process. Progress, not perfection.

There’s someone I love very, very much who has HIV. He was diagnosed about a year ago, and it’s been a roller coaster of emotions ever since. Until he was diagnosed, I wasn’t at all updated on HIV research, and when I heard the news (May/ 2013) I was absolutely devastated. All I remembered from HIV was what I saw today in Dallas Buyers Club: it was a death sentence. Flashes of this person’s life ran through my memory in minutes, once I heard the news. The time I visited him as a newborn; the times when I babysat him; his temper tantrums as a toddler; how sensitive he became as a teenager; and how gentle he became as an adult… I thought he’d be gone soon, and that thought was unbearable.

Then I learned of the new treatments. And the afterlife. A person can live a healthy, productive life today with treatment. AIDS is no longer a death sentence. And for that I am grateful to all the people who got out there and protested, fought, demanded results (anger has its place). And to the very dedicated scientists who made it their mission to find answers. But – we can’t cure judgment. No one is judged for having cancer. But the same is not true for HIV.

So that brings me back to my own issue with judgment. It often comes from ignorance. From not seeing the whole picture. From not seeing the other side of the fence, or another version of the story (sometimes we refuse to). From trying to simplify things to a digestible level, putting it all in a box that we can stash away, label and forget about. But if we need to get back to it, hey, it’s neatly stashed in our minds as “good” or “bad”, easy to remember where that person/ situation/ subject belongs to. Not so much emotional engagement needed.

Is that how we want to live our lives? Categorizing everything, every person we know? Judgment comes in all forms. We may judge a car a person drives, or a job someone has, or how much/ how little money they make, or what religion/ spiritual belief/ philosophy they follow, or what they believe in, or what clothes they wear, what magazines/ books they read, what movies they watch… and so on. We may even judge people for being judgmental! And judge ourselves for judging them… Do we really want to reduce people to the one/ two things we know about them? Aren’t we all a whole lot more complex than that?

Have you ever been judged? How did that feel? Shouldn’t we treat other people the way we like to be treated? No one should be judged for having a disease. It’s enough of a burden to have to deal with it, but being looked down for it – that’s just cruel.

On the first paragraph I said something about putting things in perspective. Today, I got myself really upset about something. I’ve been feeling irritable lately and little things set me off. I spent quite some time pissed off about this one little thing. Then I decided to rent a movie. This one came up and I was curious about it. The theme was meaningful to me, so I rented it. And it completely changed the way I was feeling. It reminded me that some things are just not worth getting upset about. There are so many other things so much more important, profound, worthy of our time and energy.

My hope is that, next time I get my panties in a twist over some stupid little thing, I’ll remember this and snap out of it. Fast.

 

I am back!

Wow, it’s been a while… my last post was about 2 months ago…? I didn’t plan to spend that long without posting, but life has been moving at a very fast pace lately. During the last 2 months, I had many moments when ideas popped in and I felt like putting them into words, but the constant running around didn’t allow it. Or I was too restless to sit for a while and write something.

On my last post, I was getting ready to head to Italy and Portugal. I spent almost 2 weeks with my niece (Mariana) and her 5 year-old son (Artur) in Italy, helping them to get settled in Perugia. My niece is studying at Universita de Perugia for a semester, and took Artur with her. They were intense two weeks. We found a studio apartment to rent and a day care for Artur, bought some basics for the apartment and she completed all needed school paperwork in a couple of days. Then we had some time to chill, so we ventured out in the rain to visit Assisi, the birth place of Saint Francis (where we were actually blessed with a bright sunny day with the most gorgeous blue sky), and Florence. We also explored Perugia a little bit, a small town with medieval walls all around. But the most important thing to me was to spend time with them, to bond with my nephew who, before this trip, didn’t really like me. Well, he never had a chance to get to know me, because when he was born I already lived in the US and I have seen him only once a year since, but always with a bunch of people around. So, it was a thrill to have him hold my hand and tell me stories. It’s really cool to see a child so excited about all the things we take for granted. For them, it’s all new, all a big discovery. It makes me smile to remember it. However, when his mom was around, he went back to giving me the cold shoulder. Ha!

 Mariana and aunt T in school gear – made me feel young!

When time came for me to leave, I had a heavy heart. It was hard to leave them in a strange country where they didn’t know anyone, and had to fend for themselves. But I was glad we were able to do all the things we had planned to: they were in a clean, comfortable, safe apartment and were both set to start school the following week. 

Hanging out with Artur in the sun at the main plaza – one of the few sunny days we got in Perugia.

From there I went to Portugal for a work. Met with a customer, we did a factory visit. Always interesting to learn how things are made and to spend time with people I work with every day but never get to see face to face. Also, Portugal is such a pleasant country – and don’t get me started on the food and wine!

Then back home for 2 weeks and I headed to Rio for another niece’s wedding. Patricia and Bruno got married on February 27th, on their 8th year anniversary. It was very small, intimate event. There were all kinds of obstacles on the way (hello, Ganesha, we never forget you!). There’s been a lot of protests in Rio lately (people finally standing up to a very corrupt and abusive government) and, the morning of the wedding, a main road was closed, and it took us 3 hours to get to the place where the civil ceremony would take place. We were very late. It was extremely hot and the party would be outside. The flower arrangements we so carefully made the day before (when it was nice and cool) wilted by the time the party started. But we were all so happy, it didn’t really matter. That wedding brought up the best in all of us, even the cynical ones. I felt blessed to be able to be part of it.

They made it! This was taken a few minutes before the “I dos”!

Now I am back home, to cold New Jersey. We’ve had a very long/ severe Winter. There’s been lots of changes at work, people moving around, new people, lots of movement and unrest. I made a decision to take a hiatus from teaching Yoga (though I taught a Yoga class to my nieces and nephew while in Rio – their request – and it was fun), and quit both my teaching jobs almost exactly 5 years to the day I taught my very first class (February 6th, 2009). It was a hard decision, but I realized I needed more time for myself; needed to retreat and decide what direction to take next. Trying to do less instead of more. I guess I am trying to find a routine and enjoy it, trying not to be rushing from place to place constantly, trying to realize I don’t have to make everyone happy all the time, forgetting myself in the process.

But I am so not used to have free time that I find myself moving around frantically, looking for stuff to do, creating work. Who said relaxing was easy?

Hitting the road again

The suitcases are wide open, stuffed with clothes, covering my bedroom floor. Yep, getting ready to hit the road again. As per my last post, the travel bug still pretty much alive. Headed to Italy, then Portugal for a 3-week band tour. Just kidding, I don’t have a band. Just thought it sounded cool to say it. But come to think of it, a 3-week tour is kind of lame, no? Too short. So there goes the cool element.

Anyway, it’s really exciting to start the year doing something I love so much (traveling), going to two countries with so much history and culture.

My niece Mariana is in her last year of Law school and will study a semester in Perugia, Italy. She has a 5 year-old son (Artur) and was really nervous about getting there with a small child and luggage in the middle of the Winter (we don’t really have Winters in Rio, where I am from), and having to figure a lot of things out on her own. So I offered to meet her there and help her out, however I can. She may just need emotional support. And I am glad to offer the kind of support I wish I had when I left Brazil 18 years ago (see my last post “How did I get here”). Some days, I just wished I had someone to hold my hand and tell me everything would be OK. Now, I have a chance to be that person for someone else.

From there, I have a meeting in Guimaraes, Portugal (about 2-hour drive from Porto) with a customer of mine. So I’ll be spending about 4 days in Portugal, before heading back home.

Now, as much as I like traveling, the preparations can be pretty stressful. First, right after Christmas I got sick with a respiratory infection that’s still dragging on. At work, I have a new assistant who started about a month ago, just before the holidays, when our working days were broken. So I am in the process of training someone new who’s had barely a month to learn everything it took me 16 years to learn, so she can cover for me while I am gone. And I keep finding myself caught between understanding and impatience. Yet another life lesson: to meet people where they are and understand that we each of us have a different pace. But easier said than done!

Plus all the last minute stuff, pay bills, schedule kitty care, don’t forget this, don’t forget that, get subs for my classes, book hotels, tie up loose ends here and there. My calendar is loaded with reminders of services I need to put on hold and things I can’t forget.

But once that plane takes off, it’s like magic: everything seems to fade away. Suddenly there are these new possibilities, open roads, opportunities to meet new people and learn new things, and expand my mind.

This trip is especially precious to me because I’ll be spending time with a person I deeply admire and will do anything I can to help and support. She’s an amazing young woman, with a wide open heart, so kind, so compassionate, so strong, and graceful. And so very brave – someone who won’t allow her fears to stop her from accomplishing what she sets her mind to. She takes the obstacles that are placed on her path as leverage to get to the next level. So, it’s a privilege to spend time with her and be of service.

Praying to Ganesh, the remover of obstacles, that we will have a safe journey and breeze through all we need to do. And we’ll need all the help we can get: basically we have 10 days to find them a place to live and a day care center for Artur. The college confirmed her acceptance very last minute, right before Christmas, and we were not able to get much done online. But we’ll get it all taken care of, I am sure.

I will be posting more in the upcoming weeks. I am sure I’ll have lots to share. Looking forward to reading your comments/ shared experiences.

 

 

How did I get here?

I really enjoy traveling – so much that, when I don’t go anywhere for a while, and drive by Newark Airport, I longingly look at the airplanes taking off, wondering where they are headed for, with dreamy eyes. I like the feeling of being somewhere where no one knows me, of discovering a new place, taking everything in, exploring, photographing. And knowing that I need to enjoy the place where I am as much as possible, because I’ll probably never return there. Too many places to see, not enough time.

I am originally from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Was born to a poor family who could never afford to take vacations, so there was not a lot of travelling when I grew up. I guess we are born with the travelling bug or not. I was. In my early teens I started to wonder what was out there, how people lived in other countries. Wondered about their habits and culture. And then I realized I could not spend the rest of my life in Rio, I had to set off to, like a good friend says, “wander the earth”.

I originally thought about studying overseas, but quickly realized my family would never be able to afford it. Then I checked into au pair programs and other options. I had my eyes set on Europe, fascinated as I was with the old continent. I explored several options, and found several closed doors. But never gave up. Closing a door on my face is the perfect way to make sure I’ll knock. Repeatedly.

After graduating from college, I took a series of part time jobs and decided to go back for a second undergraduate degree in Literature. During my first semester, I made a new friend who gave me interesting tips about the kibbutz volunteer program in Israel. At that point, I had no professional perspective, had no desire whatsoever to stay in Brazil and decided to try it. Hey, I was looking for an open door, couldn’t be picky when one finally did open.

So, in July of 1995, after a series of interviews with a kibbutz recruiter in Rio, visits to the consulate, doctor appointments and such, I boarded on a plane for the first time in my life. The airline was called Aeroflot, a Russian airline that no longer exists. Headed to Tel-Aviv with a connection in Cyprus. I had no idea what to expect, but in my heart I knew I had to go. I remember crying all the way there. I come from a very close knit family and was leaving them for the first time, going to a strange country, with a language I didn’t speak, where I had no friends or relatives. Or money.  

The kibbutz movement started as a kind of socialist/ Zionist dream (kibbutz means “gathering” or “clustering”), and is traditionally based on agriculture (though this has changed in recent years). Each kibbutz is economically independent and self regulated. There’s no ownership. The kibbutz members are provided housing, health, education, food – all the basics – and all must work to keep the community alive. There’s a dining room where all eat together. If one needs a car to go somewhere, they need to reserve it, use it for as long as they need to, then return it. They never need to worry if their kids will have proper education or medical care. All is provided to the members and their families. Interesting concept.

The volunteers are given pocket money, housing and food in exchange for a few hours of work a day. Every few weeks, there was a trip to some interesting spot in Israel (Jerusalem, Masada, The Dead Sea). And on Fridays, there was a small night club with open bar (that turned into a mess sometimes). Oh, and a swimming pool. I got there in the Summer, so that was a great spot to hang out. I was sent to a beautiful place, way up north, near the border of Lebanon (I walked to the barbed wired border many times). My job consisted of picking pears, apples and plums early in the AM. I was assigned to some other jobs from time to time. Worked in the kitchen for a long while. It was a very unique experience. I had two roommates from South Africa and quickly realized that my English sucked. So it was a little hard to make friends at first.

I was planning to stay for 3 months and move on to my dreamed Europe. My very loose plan was to spend some time in, say, Italy, get some kind of work there and learn Italian. Then move on to France, and Spain and so on. That never came to pass. While in the kibbutz, I fell in love, got into a serious relationship and ended up staying in Israel for a whole year. At some point I had to get a regular paying job, because I had ran out of money.

I worked as a nanny for a family for a couple of months. And through that family I met the people who’d get me where I am today.

Fast forward a couple of months, and I found myself in New York. Central Park West to be more precise. I had never thought about living in the US, had no interest in visiting New York, and suddenly I’d wake up every morning and see Central Park. Life is weird sometimes, no?

When I got tired of the nanny life and stubbornly decided it was time to go back to my original plan of living in Europe, I was offered a job in New York, at the company I still work today. And the rest is history.

I went back to Israel a few times. Still have strong ties there, and many good friends. In fact, I considered converting to Judaism when I was planning to marry my ex. We wanted to raise our potential kids in one religion, and we both agreed on Judaism. That also never came to pass (not the marriage, the kids or the conversion). Still single, childless and Christian. Not complaining!

So, between 1995 and 1997 I lived in 3 different countries. But I didn’t feel like I belonged in any of them. Looking back, what I was trying to do with all the roaming around was to find myself, or maybe to run away from my issues, from my angst. So all this sounds very exciting, but that’s not how I felt at the time. I was lost 100% of the time, always looking for something that I had no idea what it was. I remember Krishna Das (a kirtan artist) once saying that, after he spent time in India for the first time, he felt so great, as if suddenly his life made complete sense. So he came back to the US and sold everything he had. His records, his jeans, all is stuff. He set off to start a new life in India. However, he said, there was one thing he couldn’t get rid off and it went with him wherever he went: his issues. So it was with me.

I still love travelling. Very much so. And this whole subject came up because I am preparing to take off soon for a few weeks (more on that later), but now I have a different feeling about the whole thing. For one thing, I love having a home to come back to. And my kitties too (did I say I was childless? I lied. I have a tabby called Luca and a Calico mix called Sophie). Knowing they’re waiting for me makes my returns that much sweeter. Now I enjoy the feeling of anonymity when I am visiting a new place. I enjoy feeling like a child seeing the world for the very first time. But I no longer have that feeling of not belonging anywhere, of floating up in the air, of being moved by the wind without direction. I also very much like to come back home and tell my peers what I saw, and share my pictures… and sleep in my bed and know what bus/ train to take or where I’ll end up if I turn right or left. I like to be able to spend a few weeks having all my clothes and shoes available to me. And as soon as the laundry is done, I start planning the next trip…

Grist for the mill

I recently had the opportunity to spend quite some time with a skeptic. To be more precise, a very opinionated skeptic who’s not very good at being supportive either. And very good at criticizing and “busting chops”, as he puts it.

I learned a few things from that brief friendship. First, I was reminded I shouldn’t make assumptions about people or think I have them “figured out” based on very few pieces of information that are available to me. I did that. I do that a lot. I guess it’s my very objective mind that wants to organize and categorize everything and everyone so I’ll “know” (yeah, right) what to expect. Because this person was into yoga, I said to myself “great! he’s probably a very spiritual person”. Wrong.

The second thing I was reminded of is that yoga in the West is mostly a physical practice. Absolutely no judgment here. To each their own. That’s how it started for me, and so many other people I know. A lot of people practice yoga to get those great arms and perky butts – I guess these are nice “side effects”, but to me yoga opened so many doors in such short time that now I have a hard time viewing it as a purely physical practice. Ram Dass mentioned in one of his books that his guru, Neem Karoli Baba, told him once that yoga was not practiced in the West. That was back in the 70’s when yoga was a growing movement around here. RD replied, confused, that a lot of people were practicing yoga in the West. But Neem Karoli Baba didn’t consider that yoga – that was just Asana (the physical part of yoga). However, like RD, I agree that Asana can be a gateway. We each have our own path and our own pace.

So, back to my skeptic friend, within a few weeks, I found every single belief I so dearly held on to being questioned. Everything. From meditation practice to the style of yoga I teach, to the amount of training I had, to the value of pranayama and so on. Even lavender oil, which I love, was questioned. Lavender oil, people! How innocent is that?

It was not easy. Mainly because I now surround myself with like minded/ kind people who are very supportive of anything I decide to do, even if they don’t participate in it.

I found myself getting angry and restless. The conversations grew tense and unpleasant. I felt more and more that I had to prove my point or defend my position. And that led to feelings of insecurity and inadequacy. Then, I started to question it all. Am I a good enough teacher? Did I have enough training? Do I dedicate enough time to Yoga? Can I even be called a teacher if I only do it part time? Is meditation really helping me, if I am still losing my temper and getting anxious? Have I changed as much as I believe I have? I even thought about quitting teaching!

I had a few pretty hard days going through all that. And I realized how fragile my beliefs are. How easy it is for me to lose my cool, get off my center, lose my balance. I guess if a person is very, very secure, other people’s opinions don’t shake them so much. I am not in that category, though.

The great news is that I had a chance to review a lot of the concepts, practices and beliefs I have. From time to time we need to do it. We need someone or something to shake our tree, some strong wind to blow, otherwise our practice becomes stale. When everything is OK and everyone is in agreement it’s so easy to keep going. There are no obstacles, life is just so comfortable.

I am a devotee of Ganesh, the elephant headed Hindu god that’s on the picture representing my blog (and in my car, my altar, my front table, my side table, my desk, my book shelf, behind my door…). Ganesh is known to be the remover of obstacles, but I was once told he may also place obstacles on our way, because they may be needed. I consider this experience one of those needed obstacles. Was I going to stop and turn back? Or get stuck complaining about the obstacle? Or try to overcome it?

Today, I feel more committed to my practice than ever. I love my yoga community, my practice, my challenges, my journey and, like Ram Dass says, everything I encounter, good or bad, is just grist for the mill. Oh, and yesterday I got a gift from a business associate: a box with a lavender pillow, two lavender candles and an eye mask. Lovely gift. One of the lavender candles is burning right now.

Curious to hear from you guys, whether you had similar experiences and how you reacted (or not) to them.