That I’ve carried with me

The 29th of December, 8:04 am.  Showered and dressed, cup of tea cooling on the side.  Can’t believe how quickly you have to drink a cup of tea in these winter months!  Rice is on the boil on the kitchen hob.  Looking forward to a nice grounding breakfast, before I head into Brighton to meet an old friend.

I’m feeling a little unsettled…impatient perhaps.  A long-standing affliction of mine.  I decide to do something – and I want it immediately. Have to keep learning to take a step back and let things breathe, let things grow – organically.

It’s difficult to find that balance between being proactive to just plain meddling;  and taking a step back to just being idle.  I hate to be idle.  I feel guilty and as if I have to keep justifying myself.  I like things to keep moving.  What I forget sometimes is that they are.  I don’t always have to be there watching over it, stirring things up, egging it on.  I’m trying to change my interpretation of things.  Take an action or two and then let it settle.  Give it time for a reaction to happen.  Let it be more fluid.  A natural exchange.

I suppose it’s a good thing that I want to get on.  That I’m eager to get started and established, and start to build up my life again.

I’m finding it easier to live in the now.  I feel much happier with life as it is, but I still plan for the future.  I still see this path in front of me, the way it winds towards a space of my own.  I see windows along the side – flash images of places I’ve never seen, and people I’m yet to meet.  There’s so much sunlight, and not an office desk in sight.

There are lots of yoga shalas.  Wooden floors with dusty corners, mats rolled out – blue and purple.  Sometimes I’m at the front of the class.  I look different.  Hair is longer and a lighter colour, I’m comfortable and at ease with myself looking out to everyone.  Other times I’m at the back, more focused and closed in.  Can just hear the breathing and the rhythm of palms and heels pressing firmly into their respective mats.

I can feel my future in Ayurveda and massage, and yoga and writing is always there.  This is just the beginning of something, so I have to remind myself that there’s no need to rush, or panic.  There’s no need to push or fight.

Each day I take an action or two.  Business cards have been distributed to my circles of friends, and 500 flyers are in the post, should get here by Monday.  Conversations have been had, and I’m buying myself a pocket diary for 2013 so I can start to inscribe the initial appointments for January and then let’s see where that takes me.

The only real weight around my neck is a loan I have to pay back.  It’s a bit of a jolt at the end of each month as it leaves my account with virtually nothing coming in to compensate.  But this whole experience has been invaluable in challenging, to its very core, my relationship to money, my understanding of what stability and security means.  I’m discovering what my bare necessities are…and I mean what they really are, not what society dictates.

I am feeling pressure from certain places.  Parts of me I’m yet to fully confront, social situations that shed light on insecurities I have, and frustrations created by my own impatience to move along.  But then whatever I have or don’t have to show for these choices I’ve made, I feel cleaner somehow.  Earthy images of stronger roots and the smells of fresh, damp soil surround me.  I don’t doubt, even for a second, how lucky I am to be in this place, at this stage of my life.  How grateful I am to the unwavering and patient support of my mum.

For every relationship that’s faltered, another has strengthened.  For every difficult emotion that’s surfaced, an unnecessary pain has been resolved.  For every material item I’ve lost, something unquantifiable has been gained.

I read back sometimes on the entries I wrote when I was back in Bali, Thailand and Burma.  I love that those lessons I learnt still resonate so richly.  How some of the profound moments I’ve had have so distinctly steered me.  How that feeling of beaming happiness is not solely attributed to those places, those memories…but something deep inside that was awakened and that I’ve carried with me.

That Funny Time Between Christmas and New Year

This stint between Christmas and New Year is so bloody confusing!  I want to detox, I want to run twenty miles just to get the 5 Christmas dinners off my arse, I want to lock up the alcohol and snacks cupboard and swallow the key, I want to be productive and get myself back into a routine…but what’s the point?  Its New Years in a few days and there are more parties to attend, and celebrations to be had.

This year, comparative to previous years, has been remarkably tame.  I’ve somehow acquired the invaluable discipline of turning my G and T’s into just plain cups of tea towards the end of the night; abstaining completely at 2 out of 6 of my recent seasonal gatherings, and I’m confidently nearing the one-year anniversary of giving up smoking…but none of this has stopped me from eating incessantly.

Over this past year my body image has undoubtedly improved, and I’ve become more accepting, even quite caring of the curves and extra padding.  It’s womanly.  But still.  The moment on Christmas day when I eagerly tried on my new (usually larger than average sized) pyjamas from Next, and couldn’t get the waist band past that initial bulge of my butt-cheeks, I did nearly cry!

WTF?  3 months ago I was nearing my natural weight of 9 1/2 stone without putting any effort into it.  Bit of yoga and meditation and some Ayurvedic remedies to get my Agni up – and that was it.  Just falling off me, and I was feeling so light and easy in my movements…and throw in a bit of cold weather, and a lot of temptations and I’m back to wrestling into my clothes reminiscent of my wet-suit/elephant-seal impersonation before the triathlon.

Its gone beyond the “Kapha-season” layer of warmth, or the naughty but harmless indulgence of Christmas treats; and ventured into territory of imbalance and the need of a pro-active shift in behaviour.

I’ve already gone through the phase of blaming everything around me.  The seasons, living arrangements, current emotional circumstances, time of the month, ridiculously appealing and readily available treats stocked up in the fridge, cupboards and on side-tables….and now its time to take responsibility for myself.

Perhaps this season of over-indulgence and excess isn’t so bad for us in the long run.  It provides a bench-mark for the extreme.  It allows us to experience the excesses of everything that we crave and deny ourselves, only to discover, and re-discover, that it doesn’t give us happiness…that in fact we want to be healthy, and we want to look after ourselves.

Perhaps that’s what this stint between Christmas and New Years can be used for – determining what it is exactly that we want to change about ourselves, and what we want to accept.  We toy with the idea of giving up chocolate for life, and never touching another drop of champagne.  We schedule in a 10k run for 6 am on January 1st and berate ourselves for the lengthy hangover and extra helping at dinner that we didn’t really need.  And then we get to New Years eve, and our new-found determination for self-improvement wavers at the first pouring of sparkling wine.  We make jokes about the strict and unobtainable targets we’ve set ourselves and relax comfortably back into our old routines.   But not always, and not for everything.

The targets we set ourselves are not unobtainable.  It just takes time.

Even thinking of them, and for a day or two believing that’s what we’ll do, plants the seed for future action.

One year I did my 10k run at 6am on January 1st.  Hated every minute of it, but two years later I ran my first marathon.  Every year, for as long as I can remember I’ve resolved to quit smoking, and this January I’ll be celebrating my first smoke-free anniversary.

Right now, I’m berating myself for my lethargy and over-eating.  I’m making plans for a 12 day cleanse in the new year, and working out how to negotiate the transference to a Vegetarian diet, in a meat-eating household.  I’m feeling stiff in my lower back, and simultaneously dreading and yearning for that overdue yoga practice.   I’m struggling with those difficult questions of where have I got to, and what do I have to show for these 30 years I’ve led here on this planet…

But it doesn’t matter.  It’s good to indulge and its good to pull back.  It’s good to question and challenge, berate and forget.  It’s good to set targets that are whimsical, that are achievable.  It’s all part of the process of working out what we want for ourselves, and what we accept.

I accept that I gain weight easily, and lose it with great difficulty.  (It’s the Kapha side of me).  I want to be more aware and pro-active on how to manage that.

I accept that I’m struggling with escapism – such as drinking and watching tv.  I want to be more nurturing of the practices that bring me into the present – my meditation and yoga.

I accept the niggles and imbalances I experience on a day-to-day basis, and I want to deepen my understanding and use of Ayurveda to help balance that.

I feel frustrated by only knowing one language.  I want to learn another.

I can’t drive.  Wouldn’t it be nice if, one day, I had a car….

However my new years resolutions manifest over these next few days, and however far I indulge or pull back, it doesn’t matter.  As long as I accept that this is all part of the process, and as for those pyjama bottoms!  Well – they’ll just have to be folded neatly and put to one side.  They were a useful lesson in determining what I want for myself, but there’s no point dwelling on what isn’t.

Pinda Sweda

Yesterday morning – after my exhilarating re-dedication to my practice, I felt fully inspired to get on with a very productive and creative day.

I had a 2 hour massage scheduled in for the evening, and it was going to be the fist time that I used Pinda Sweda.  This was the final session of 4 booked in with my client, and up until this point I’d just been using the oils.   The oils are fabulous and as one of the fundamental features of Ayurvedic massage, really work as a stand-alone…but the Pinda Sweda just takes it up to the next level.

I guess I hadn’t braved the use of Pinda Sweda since my studies simply because it takes a lot of preparation…

First step is to boil the rice.

I killed two birds with one stone and made my breakfast (rice porridge) at the same time.  I’m not sure how much to use – but have gone for 1/4 cup for my breakfast, and 1/2 cup for Pinda Sweda.

Then…you chop the rosemary, or lavender, or whatever herb you like!  I’ve gone for Rosemary because its cut fresh from the garden.  I’m beginning to think that if I lived in the olden days I would have liked to have been a witch doctor.  Why oh why has it taken me so many years to realise that I LOVE all of this stuff!  Natural remedies, herbs and oils….all the possible concoctions one can make and grow.  Definitely something I’ll be pursuing later on….

Then…whilst the rice is cooling (and after I’ve eaten my breakfast) I cut a square out of some fabric I bought from a market in Brighton.  You don’t need to dress like a freak!  I still don’t have any winter clothes so have taken to layering up with anything I can find, and wait patiently for the winter to pass.  Shortest day of the year is just round the corner….after which we turn the corner and venture back towards sunshine and warmth…(fingers crossed)

Then….we mix the herbs and rice and put in a neat pile in the centre of the square piece of fabric.

I have no idea if this is enough…too much, too little…Looks about right – and one can only learn through trial and error.

(turns out it was a little bit too much – so next time I’ll go with 1/4 cup for Pinda Sweda)

Then we tie the knot – and VOILA!!

Here, before your very eyes – I present you with a Pinda Sweda!

One of the most fabulous and unique attributes to the Ayurvedic massage.

Isn’t it beautiful!

What do you do with it you may ask…

Well, You invest in a “mini-compact” steamer, which turns out to not be so mini or compact afterall, and you lug it about with you to whichever clinic you’re working at that day, and let it do its magic.  In about ten minutes time you have a steaming hot rice pack, ready to use on the client, and despite the additional time and weight of carrying everything – it’s completely worth it.

My journey into Brighton is on the rickety, often smelly, no. 12 double-decker bus that sways in the wind as you cross through the downs past Beachy Head and the Seven Sisters.  In the daylight its one of the most strikingly beautiful journeys.  White cliffs, violent oceans, and clear blue skies; but in the night-time its impenetrable and cold.  Passengers look like turtles as their heads disappear into the collars of their zipped up, tightly clutched coats.

I had three bags with me to contain the long list of massaging tools, accessories and necessities, piled up precariously on my knee, recently rescued from the dribbling remnants of the dented can of red bull rolling backwards and forwards down the aisle.

I couldn’t see a thing through the black black window, other than the reflection of my great beaming smile.

How happy I am to be doing all of this….How grateful I am to everyone and everything that got me to this place.

Don’t be a fool…

Cooked rice, bathed in coconut milk with a sprinkling of nutmeg…LOVELY way to start the day.

My morning rituals, which had become so ridiculously extensive….

Tongue scraping

Consumption of coriander water

Morning remedies

30 minutes meditation

30 minutes pranayama

60-90 minutes yoga

Pre and post breakfast herbal remedies…

Has diminished somewhat.  Since the Christmas tree arrived and has taken prime position in the living room, my dedicated yoga space has been shuffled to behind the sofa, under the windowsill.  My bloody-minded – I-will-meditate-and-breathe-funnily in front of everyone if needs must, has been superseded by a much more self-conscious, I’ll-only-do-it-if-nobody’s-in.

The scraggly remains of a not-so-recently purchased bag of uncrushed coriander seeds gathers dust in the back of my “Ayurveda cupboard” – a shelf allocated to all the herbs and spices, and pots of ghee I’ve accumulated over the past 6 months.   And if I’m going to be brutally honest – I think I might have a bit of a sniffle and a Kapha depression coming on!

The initial surge of enthusiastic clients and support has been silenced by the build up to Christmas.   Its cold and dark…and any excuse to do nothing and curl up under the blanket with one eye peering out – observing the latest show you’ve recorded on telly (right now that’s Homeland), is a good enough excuse for me.

And that’s ok – a bit of indulgence in the Kapha state of eating lots of food, putting on a bit of winter padding, and letting everything around you go still and settle – for a short while.  But when the indulgence begins to transition from being warm and cosy, into something more sluggish and claustrophobic, then its time to get moving again.  Its time to take a look at what’s fallen to the wayside, and give yourself a bit of a shake…back to life, back into existence.  The Kapha state has always been a long-sworn enemy of mine.  Always in conflict with the fleeting, ever-moving Vata.  Its like I’ve been running away from it my whole life and then suddenly it grips hold of me and pulls me under.  I resist at first…wrestle myself out of its grasp until I collapse with exhaustion and then sink.  Limbs get heavy and my mind slows down.  Everything that’s edible becomes irresistible and the outside world looks mean and scary…not like the warm, cosy sofa, with the burning embers of television and a roasting radiator.

It always seems to go on for just that little bit too long.  Just so long that I’ve thrown out a few self-defeatest pleas to mentors and teachers…INSPIRE ME PLEASEEE!!!!  Just so long that I’ve begun to hate myself a little bit and relinquished any hope of ever being able to get back into my yoga again…

And then something happens.  A dream maybe, or a niggling voice you finally decide to listen to.  Shake it off!  Pull yourself together, get on with everything!  And just like that – the world begins to move again.

I know at Christmas time there’s all sorts of pressure – to eat too much, drink too much, spend too much…Far beyond the point of it being fun anymore…and this year I want to see if I can have the best of both worlds.  Enjoy, but without that pressure.   Partake, without overdoing it, savour instead of binge…

This past week or so, I’ve felt that sluggishness and urgh – that taster of post-Christmas blues…and it really doesn’t have to be that way.

I don’t want it to be that way.

So this morning, I resisted the urge to have a cup of tea and curl up on the sofa, and instead drank my pint of coriander water.  Instead of turning on my laptop, I moved all the furniture.  Made space for my yoga mat, a couple of cushions and a blanket.  Wrapped myself up into some sort of half-formed lotus, cocoon, and started to meditate.  Patch of skin to patch of skin, I began with the baby toe on my left foot, and worked up.  Slowly, steadily.  Hid the clock in the kitchen so I wouldn’t be distracted by the tick-tocking.  It wasn’t so hard after all, to pay some attention to my breathing, and watch as the emotions started to stir and move again, depression shifting.  I moved straight from my steady, natural breath into the controlled inhalation and exhalation of my pranayama.  5 deep darth vada breaths.  Chest expanding, and deflating, steady counts….all the clogged passageways of my lungs and head clearing.  Inhale deeply, deeply, head floating back, nostrils flaring, chest getting tighter and tighter, lock my chin to my chest, hollowed stomach pressing against my spine it feels like.  1, 2, 3……15 exhale.  Sinking into the floor, my lungs have emptied, and again I lock.  Hollowed stomach, counting steadily…1,2,3….only the exhale makes me panic a little bit.  I’m not sure why, but its anything downward moving that makes me feel agitated and uncomfortable.  I feel like I want to escape, like there’s something inside of me with long nails moving about.  So I stop at a count of 10 and lift and inhale.  Just 15 minutes this morning.  I want to move into my yoga practice.  And not the Moon sequence this time…something stronger.  Something with more heat.

I haven’t practiced Primary for over a fortnight.  I wasn’t expecting anything.  Just move with the breath that’s all.  Maybe just surynamaskara a and b.  It doesn’t matter.  Just practice!  And then it flowed.  Steadily and with no thought whatsoever I moved from one asana to the next.  No forcing, or pushing, or berating myself.  It wasn’t until I got to the Marichyasanas that I began to feel a bit tired.  A sudden heat flaring up in my centre, beads of sweat forming.  I wound it down and moved into back bends and the finishing sequence.

When I practice I wonder why I would ever stop.  All those fears I’ve been experiencing and self-doubt…they don’t disappear as such, but you don’t run away from them, or pretend they’re not there, or let them hold you to ransom and take over.  You move with them.  You carry on.  Their significance is what disappears.

I hope that I can remember that over these coming weeks.  To not feel bad that things are quiet on the work front, to not feel pressured or obliged to overindulge.  To remember that I practice because I enjoy it, and it helps me to find my balance and self-confidence.  I practice because it calms my mind, because I feel strong.  It doesn’t matter if people who are close to me don’t understand, or that the people who do are so far away.  It doesn’t matter if the mornings are cold, or if I have to create some havoc each day to clear some space to practice.  I’ve found something – a channel of sorts – that works for me.  I’d be a fool to let that go…no matter what the season.

nearly there…

Its been weeks since my last blog.  So long I don’t know where to start…

Last time I wrote it was something about getting out of my head and into my body.  Having a mild panic attack about all that lay ahead.  The uncertainty, the chaos – the AHHHHH – I’m starting my life over, and the reality of it was scaring the shit out of me!

Its been just over a month, and the course is done.  A practical session, written exam and two case studies recklessly written up, with so many questions still…so much more to learn.  I displayed true Vata tendencies and went through the nerve-fraying roller-coaster of self-doubt, stomach cramps and forgetfulness.  But for the first time in my life I think I had actually succeeded in getting out of my head – and into my body.

In the weeks running up to the exam, I had acquired clinic space, thanks to the supreme generosity of my teacher, and through some sort of Wayne’s World fateful – “If you book them, they will come” –  scenario I had a long list of diverse and willing guinea pigs to practice on.

I loved it!  First, second, third session, there were some teething problems and noticeable gaps.  I needed a travel clock to keep track of time, some hippy music to set the tone.  Some food to give me energy between sessions, a stash of herbal tea in the cupboard, and to study up on dosha-specific symptoms.  What marma points did what EXACTLY?! And with each session that passed I gained in confidence.

Its amazing what you can pick up from people in those first few minutes of meeting them.  The levels of energy, the rapidity of speech, the focus of the eyes – steady gaze, or erratic glances, the hair sleek and tidy, or untamable.   Mismatched outfits, or fashionable and smart.  All of which are clues as to what their constitution will be, what ailments they may be experiencing, imbalances they want to pacify.

And then there’s the consultation.  Informal chats about lifestyle and health.  More clues, more hints…but some of them are confusing, and don’t quite fit – are challenging to those initial conceptions.  Confidence falters ever-s0-slightly – but I know its ok…its good to not be sure…because you mustn’t be sure – people and their environments are always changing.

Get to the massage itself and the confidence returns.  It’s a meditation.  An exchange of energy.  Room is warm, oils burning, and the core muscles are strong as you move from one side of the table to the other…maintaining the rhythm.  Thought has gone…and you begin to follow your intuition.  Sense tense areas, see how the oil absorbs, or doesn’t into the skin.  Feel sensations at certain points….always transferring energy.

It’s the massage itself where I feel most comfortable.  It’s the first time in my life that the doing feels more comfortable than the thinking.  In fact, it’s a trend that began further back.  It’s when I started to practice yoga, and learnt quite early on that no amount of reading could fast-track the process, or – through fear of failure – disguise any weaknesses.

My exam is done, and now I wait for my results.  Business plan-steaming ahead, website nearly done (http://www.ayurvedacorner.co.uk/), brochures designed and tester business cards in the post.  Steamer and carbon paper on order, I’m continuing to practice with clients/case-studies, trainee insurance procured and saved in a file with all of my business receipts.  Every day – there are more things to think about, to organise, to settle.  But, there is no sense of urgency or panic.  Its like I’ve been able to take a step back and just move naturally through the process.

I know it will be slow, and there are all the chances in the world that it may not work out, that it may not bring in a sufficient income…but there are all the chances in the world that it will work out.  As this year draws to its end, and I look back at all the shifts and changes on the physical, material, emotional, and esoteric levels….Despite STILL being 30, single, technically jobless and homeless….I am STILL happy.

There are certain things that worry me or bring me down every now and again.  The fact that my yoga practice has waned.  There just isn’t the physical space to do it.  The fact that I can feel overwhelmed at times by this sense of being very much alone.  I haven’t built up a network just yet, or established myself in Brighton or Eastbourne, or anywhere for that matter.  Friends are sparse and far away.  I miss the shala, and having a teacher to talk to on a regular basis.

But with all these things that creep about in the back of my mind, and sometimes wear me down, I’m beginning to see the lessons I’ve learnt from the past year come to the forefront.

Anicca, anicca.  Nothing is permanent.  Everything is changing, always.

This is my body, and this is real.  The only reality and truth you’ll ever really know is within yourself, and in your body….NOT the ego.

And with everything fluctuating – the anxiety and fear to excitement and happiness, the loneliness and isolation to those flashes of a much deeper connection to everyone….every time I return to this is my body and this is real.  It feels right.  It feels natural.  And I guess, in the grand scheme of things – that’s all I really need to guide me in the right direction.