I would often think about things so much that by the time they actually happened, I've played them over in my head so many times that I have no reaction to them. I would either replay past events or second guess future events that never turned out the way I had imagined. I would wind myself up and create unnecessary misery for myself by getting frustrated or upset about small and trivial things. I am sure whoever is reading this can relate to at least one of these poor relationships with our minds, the voices in our head or the running commentary that seems to be with us every day. It was in 2007 that I discovered yoga and a few years later that I realised it was yoga that would be the cure to this disease and the friend that would break up the negative relationship with the mind.
I spent my last few days in Hanmer Springs wondering what the future has in store. Would I ever come back to Hanmer? Would I carry on traveling and fall in love with more places. During my last couple of days I felt like my senses were hightened, like I had one more chance to absorb my surroundings before leaving those images of orange and red forest floors, snowy mountains and glorious blue sky. I had one last desperate walk through the forest just minutes before I set off to the airport, trying to absorb what I saw, trying to savor it. Take it with me somehow. It really felt sad to be saying goodbye to a truely beautiful part of the world. But there was a feeling deep inside me that was itching to leave. I was so ready to go home and see my amazing friends and family and it was only when I got on the plane and sighed a huge sigh of relief that I realised this to be true more than I ever realised. As much as Hanmer was a great location and my job and my bosses were 5*, I really needed something more. Something spiritual and deeper. But before I joined my spritual path, it was time for some good old fashioned belly laughs from Lee Hobson.
I landed in KL airport in the morning, an airport that I am all too familier with. I've spent the night sleeping on a pastic chair in this aiport. I've even spent hours doing laps of the carpark with my baggage trolley to pass time and distract me for many hours of waiting. And waiting. So rather than rush out of the airport and into the big city of KL, I did what any old friends would do. I sat and had a coffee. Me and my pal the airport. After jumping on the bus en route to KL Central my excited belly kicked in and the thought of seeing a familier face was feeling like a medicine. After a change of vehicle and a few more minutes, a quick Malay lesson from Mr Taxi Driver, I was pulling up outside The Hobson residence. I hadn't seen Lee for 3 and a half years, after meeting him in Thailand and then again in Borneo at the beginning of my trip. He is currently teaching in KL but luckily for me and not so luckily for him, he had been attacked and had his jaw broken, meaning time off work! Unluckly for me and luckily for him, he had just had the top and bottom jaws seperated after being wired togther for the best part of a month so he was learning how to talk somebodies ear off again (like riding a bike) and I was wondering if there was a mute button already just seconds after plonking my bum down at his kitchen table. It was so great to see him and our first night out watching the rugby and eating and drinking, laughing and having a tropical downpour was the perfect welcome back to Asia.
That night Lee's friend Matt also arrived, from Paris, and we soon set about organising a trip to Pulau Weh, a small island off the coast of Sumatra, Indonesia, where we would spend a week diving and generally relaxing before returning to KL and my onward flight to India.
After a flight, a ferry and a motorbike ride we arrived at Lumba Lumba dive school on Gapang Beach but soon decided that the unfriendly welcome and the flocks of tourists was really not the reason we had chosen such a tranquil island. The next day we hired some scooters from a place on the beach and set off in the sun to get a feel of the island. The roads were windy and hilly and the sun was beating down. Every corner we turned we had a view of the turquoise water and lush greenery. It was only when we came across Stefan Sea Sports that we knew we had found the place that we would call home for the next week. Stefan was the sort of guy that you immediately warm to. His friendly welcome, hilarious humor and clear passion for all things under the sea, we were sold. Unfortunately, Stefan was leaving the country for Malaysia the next day due to his visa running out and was leaving his dive school, on this picturesque beach in the safe hands of his employees.
The next day the lads picked us up in their boat from Gapang beach and took us to our new home. As we approached the shore we, for the first time, got a real view as to what was actually on the beach. It was a small beach, with a thin layer of small trees, perfect for tying up a few hammocks, there was a cafe next door owned by Lesley, a lovely English lady who had visited the island a few years back, fallen in love and married a local and had since built her own cafe and accommodation. She was just starting to establish the kitchen, where we spent most of our time between dives and exploring. Apart from that, there was pretty much nothing there and that was exactly what we were looking for!
It was my birthday that day and despite feeling extremely ropy, probably as a result of something I had eaten, a day on the hammock, with an amazing view, nowhere to be and good company (improved by the fact that Lee fetched things for me while I was feeling like crap) was the sort of birthday I could really become accustomed to. Unfortunately, I was feeling more than a little sick and my head and stomach both showed signs of eruption which over the course of the day, really started to knock me. I hadn't been sick for a long time so it was very out of character to be at a restricted horizontal angle and looking green. After a surprising amount of sympathy from the boys, it was decided that a dive would be the perfect remedy! My main fear being that I would need the sudden toilet in a wet suit but I was prepared to risk it so as not so waste any diving opportunities. The fact is that simply immersing my head and body in the fresh blue sea carried my headache away and the diving was amazing! The whole week was amazing even though my sickness didn't go. The laughs, the diving, the weather and the overwhelming concept that life could actually be that simple was instantly relaxing. We hired bikes again and drove down every tiny lane we could find, exploring every corner of the island, waving to the kids as we drove by and escaping the evil attacking monkeys on the main road. We rode to the very north peninsular of the island to watch the sun set and it was the perfect end to another day. One of those days that makes me question why I would ever give this life up! The week consisted of more diving and more hammock time and the second to last night I decided to take a stroll down the beach to reflect on just how lucky I was to experience places like Pulau Weh. As I walked down the beach, the sand was glowing a bright silver from the reflection of the moon, the air was warm but fresh and there were a few lads crabbing in the shadows. I just felt truly overwhelmed by how simply beautiful this lifestyle was. Not necessary us as tourists but the locals. Lesley, the lady from the cafe told us how her cook would be late for work if it rained because the Indonesians found it hard to get out of bed when it rained. Life was slow, nothing happened on time and nobody cared. I sat myself down on the sand the looked up at the incredible number of stars in the sky with a massive smile from ear to ear. It was then that I saw it. As shooting star. Just when I didn't think that this world could get any more beautiful!
Neither of us were ready to leave our private beach on Pulau Weh but it was time to return to KL where I spent the last week chilling with Lee before my flight to Delhi. We hung out with his friends and checked out a few sights in the city before I was flying high once again excited for the new adventure. Back to India. The place it all began.
My first impressions of being back in India was what a difference it makes to be picked up from the airport. In fact, the whole trip, having booked it through the Akhanda Yoga family, was fittingly effortless. I was driven by a smiley and lovely guy to a hotel just outside of Delhi, where each member of the October 2011 World Conscious Yoga Family would slowly trickle in from their various home countries all over the world. Having various degrees of jet lag we all scuttled off to our rooms to settle in and rest for the evening meal. Jackie and Steph were the first two I bumped into and we enjoyed a quick chat and a chai tea round the streets behind the hotel before meeting up with a few others for dinner that evening.
We really did have a diverse group of inspiring young women (and a few guys) who were all on this incredible journey for completely independent reasons and it was liberating to hear all their stories. Kat had quit her accounting job to her family's horror to work for Lululemon before deciding to leave Canada on her own for the first time and flying to INDIA of all places! Jackie who also quit her job to come to India to add Yoga Teacher to her wonderful array of spiritual practices and Aya, a Japanese student who was not only braving the culture but the language barrier too. It was that first dinner that I felt inspired, connected and at home instantly.
To describe my time in the ashram now, a wee while later would not do my experience justice. It gets harder and harder to articulate the emotions, the discoveries and the relationships but what I can say from the offset is that I recommend it to just about anybody.
Vishva Ji had a vision once. A vision that he wanted to build and ashram and help people around the world. And that is exactly what he does. The Akhanda Yoga ashram is situated at the foothills of the Himalayas in Rishikesh, India. The ashram itself is a few stories high and, although the area around it is sadly expanding and developing, there is a remaining peacefulness that fills every room. The breeze from the Ganga river dances in and out of all the windows and is said to be medicinal having picked up not only the positive energy from the river, but also the healing qualities from the herbs and plants living in the mountains. The garden is a small but peaceful area where fire puja is held every morning. A simple explanation of fire puja is a worship or an offering to the universe to recognise the significance of fire over the years. Fire has provided food, heat, light and life over thousands of years and puja is an offering of thanks.
Fire puja was just one of the daily rituals we would perform while we were in the ashram and each manifested deeply inside me as I was taken back to a type of life where we slowed down and were aware enough to show gratitude for the things in life that really matter. We would wake at 5am for morning mediation which, with the energy of everybody in the room, as India woke up with the sun outside. was a beautiful time in itself. We would continue our journey up the stairs to the studio where Vishva Ji would guide us through a holistic yoga practice of pranayma, meditation, asana and laughter for an hour and a half when we would all blissfully and silently make our way down to breakfast. The ashram had a rule of silence between 9pm and 9am which meant the morning yoga session had time to manifest and breakfast was eaten in silence before class would start.
For meals we would all sit on the floor in the dining room with little low tables while the kitchen staff and a member of our group would serve us an Ayurvedic delight. Once all our dishes were full we would chant and it was time to eat. Fire puja was next on the schedule before our studying started. Through the middle of the day, either side of our lunch break we would either study Yoga Philosophy, Anatomy or Practical. We'd then have dinner before tea and either homework or kirtan and bed.
It was during the philosophy classes that I learnt so much about yoga as a tool for life. The daily stresses we all go through, the wanting more, the needing and attachment, the disappointment and many more daily feelings and emotions that we don't need to feel. Being conscious of my own actions and decisions. Not judging and opening my heart. It was like a light bulb going on in my life. It all felt so obvious but yet so profound. Every day I was absorbing this information and every night I would return to my room that I shared with Kat and Sayaka and we would talk and share. Kat and Sayaka were my roomies for the duration of the course and they were incredible. Both so strong and inspiring in similar ways and I immediately felt close to them. I loved sharing a space with them and Kat's passion for what we were learning was addictive.
One night at Kirtan, a call and response style of singing, accompanied by instruments, we were all sat in a circle, with candles lit and incense burning. The next song that was selected was Shiva Shambo, a beautiful but powerful melody that came to be our favourite. As the singing crescendoed so did the thunder storm outside and with a big crack of thunder, the lights went out, leaving only the candles lit and the strong words of Shiva Shambo continuing around the room. It was a real magical moment and the smiles on everybody's face was enough to know that we had all felt it.
Every morning we would have our yoga session and every afternoon Visva Ji would answer queries or concerns or simply spread his knowledge of postures around the room. Using volunteers from our group to demonstrate and speak of safety checkpoints and posture alternatives. Vishva Ji was always smiling. He would float into the room so calmly and his contentment was visible for us all to see. His yoga classes were not only challenging but fun and his endless knowledge was addictive. I still wish to this day that I could become his personal student for not only yoga but all the wonderful wisdom that he holds in his beard! He had all the time in the world for each and every one of us and his playfulness reminded me that we never need to grow up.
I wish I could write more about my experience on the course. The amazing teachers, Mira, Rashmi, Aruna whose stories and support and passion are worthy of a blog to themselves. The meditation experiences and the incredible, life changing philosophy. When I try to write about them I just can't find the words and to try wouldn't give you a fair and accurate account of my experience. I don't want to put an average label on something that was beyond my vocabulary.
And so the course continued. With hiking trips to waterfalls and to the Ganga for breakfast, festivals of light (and sweets) and games on the beach. Nights of music and visits from an 103 year old yogi who could still put his legs behind his head. We all built such wonderful relationships with each other and with ourselves and all learnt such a lot. I think every single person on that yoga teacher training course will tell you just how incredible the course was for them. It was more than any of us could have imagined and we all left Rishikesh feeling grateful, blessed and richer for the experience, as what we learnt will last a lifetime.
Hari Om
I spent my last few days in Hanmer Springs wondering what the future has in store. Would I ever come back to Hanmer? Would I carry on traveling and fall in love with more places. During my last couple of days I felt like my senses were hightened, like I had one more chance to absorb my surroundings before leaving those images of orange and red forest floors, snowy mountains and glorious blue sky. I had one last desperate walk through the forest just minutes before I set off to the airport, trying to absorb what I saw, trying to savor it. Take it with me somehow. It really felt sad to be saying goodbye to a truely beautiful part of the world. But there was a feeling deep inside me that was itching to leave. I was so ready to go home and see my amazing friends and family and it was only when I got on the plane and sighed a huge sigh of relief that I realised this to be true more than I ever realised. As much as Hanmer was a great location and my job and my bosses were 5*, I really needed something more. Something spiritual and deeper. But before I joined my spritual path, it was time for some good old fashioned belly laughs from Lee Hobson.
I landed in KL airport in the morning, an airport that I am all too familier with. I've spent the night sleeping on a pastic chair in this aiport. I've even spent hours doing laps of the carpark with my baggage trolley to pass time and distract me for many hours of waiting. And waiting. So rather than rush out of the airport and into the big city of KL, I did what any old friends would do. I sat and had a coffee. Me and my pal the airport. After jumping on the bus en route to KL Central my excited belly kicked in and the thought of seeing a familier face was feeling like a medicine. After a change of vehicle and a few more minutes, a quick Malay lesson from Mr Taxi Driver, I was pulling up outside The Hobson residence. I hadn't seen Lee for 3 and a half years, after meeting him in Thailand and then again in Borneo at the beginning of my trip. He is currently teaching in KL but luckily for me and not so luckily for him, he had been attacked and had his jaw broken, meaning time off work! Unluckly for me and luckily for him, he had just had the top and bottom jaws seperated after being wired togther for the best part of a month so he was learning how to talk somebodies ear off again (like riding a bike) and I was wondering if there was a mute button already just seconds after plonking my bum down at his kitchen table. It was so great to see him and our first night out watching the rugby and eating and drinking, laughing and having a tropical downpour was the perfect welcome back to Asia.
That night Lee's friend Matt also arrived, from Paris, and we soon set about organising a trip to Pulau Weh, a small island off the coast of Sumatra, Indonesia, where we would spend a week diving and generally relaxing before returning to KL and my onward flight to India.
After a flight, a ferry and a motorbike ride we arrived at Lumba Lumba dive school on Gapang Beach but soon decided that the unfriendly welcome and the flocks of tourists was really not the reason we had chosen such a tranquil island. The next day we hired some scooters from a place on the beach and set off in the sun to get a feel of the island. The roads were windy and hilly and the sun was beating down. Every corner we turned we had a view of the turquoise water and lush greenery. It was only when we came across Stefan Sea Sports that we knew we had found the place that we would call home for the next week. Stefan was the sort of guy that you immediately warm to. His friendly welcome, hilarious humor and clear passion for all things under the sea, we were sold. Unfortunately, Stefan was leaving the country for Malaysia the next day due to his visa running out and was leaving his dive school, on this picturesque beach in the safe hands of his employees.
The next day the lads picked us up in their boat from Gapang beach and took us to our new home. As we approached the shore we, for the first time, got a real view as to what was actually on the beach. It was a small beach, with a thin layer of small trees, perfect for tying up a few hammocks, there was a cafe next door owned by Lesley, a lovely English lady who had visited the island a few years back, fallen in love and married a local and had since built her own cafe and accommodation. She was just starting to establish the kitchen, where we spent most of our time between dives and exploring. Apart from that, there was pretty much nothing there and that was exactly what we were looking for!
It was my birthday that day and despite feeling extremely ropy, probably as a result of something I had eaten, a day on the hammock, with an amazing view, nowhere to be and good company (improved by the fact that Lee fetched things for me while I was feeling like crap) was the sort of birthday I could really become accustomed to. Unfortunately, I was feeling more than a little sick and my head and stomach both showed signs of eruption which over the course of the day, really started to knock me. I hadn't been sick for a long time so it was very out of character to be at a restricted horizontal angle and looking green. After a surprising amount of sympathy from the boys, it was decided that a dive would be the perfect remedy! My main fear being that I would need the sudden toilet in a wet suit but I was prepared to risk it so as not so waste any diving opportunities. The fact is that simply immersing my head and body in the fresh blue sea carried my headache away and the diving was amazing! The whole week was amazing even though my sickness didn't go. The laughs, the diving, the weather and the overwhelming concept that life could actually be that simple was instantly relaxing. We hired bikes again and drove down every tiny lane we could find, exploring every corner of the island, waving to the kids as we drove by and escaping the evil attacking monkeys on the main road. We rode to the very north peninsular of the island to watch the sun set and it was the perfect end to another day. One of those days that makes me question why I would ever give this life up! The week consisted of more diving and more hammock time and the second to last night I decided to take a stroll down the beach to reflect on just how lucky I was to experience places like Pulau Weh. As I walked down the beach, the sand was glowing a bright silver from the reflection of the moon, the air was warm but fresh and there were a few lads crabbing in the shadows. I just felt truly overwhelmed by how simply beautiful this lifestyle was. Not necessary us as tourists but the locals. Lesley, the lady from the cafe told us how her cook would be late for work if it rained because the Indonesians found it hard to get out of bed when it rained. Life was slow, nothing happened on time and nobody cared. I sat myself down on the sand the looked up at the incredible number of stars in the sky with a massive smile from ear to ear. It was then that I saw it. As shooting star. Just when I didn't think that this world could get any more beautiful!
Neither of us were ready to leave our private beach on Pulau Weh but it was time to return to KL where I spent the last week chilling with Lee before my flight to Delhi. We hung out with his friends and checked out a few sights in the city before I was flying high once again excited for the new adventure. Back to India. The place it all began.
My first impressions of being back in India was what a difference it makes to be picked up from the airport. In fact, the whole trip, having booked it through the Akhanda Yoga family, was fittingly effortless. I was driven by a smiley and lovely guy to a hotel just outside of Delhi, where each member of the October 2011 World Conscious Yoga Family would slowly trickle in from their various home countries all over the world. Having various degrees of jet lag we all scuttled off to our rooms to settle in and rest for the evening meal. Jackie and Steph were the first two I bumped into and we enjoyed a quick chat and a chai tea round the streets behind the hotel before meeting up with a few others for dinner that evening.
We really did have a diverse group of inspiring young women (and a few guys) who were all on this incredible journey for completely independent reasons and it was liberating to hear all their stories. Kat had quit her accounting job to her family's horror to work for Lululemon before deciding to leave Canada on her own for the first time and flying to INDIA of all places! Jackie who also quit her job to come to India to add Yoga Teacher to her wonderful array of spiritual practices and Aya, a Japanese student who was not only braving the culture but the language barrier too. It was that first dinner that I felt inspired, connected and at home instantly.
To describe my time in the ashram now, a wee while later would not do my experience justice. It gets harder and harder to articulate the emotions, the discoveries and the relationships but what I can say from the offset is that I recommend it to just about anybody.
Vishva Ji had a vision once. A vision that he wanted to build and ashram and help people around the world. And that is exactly what he does. The Akhanda Yoga ashram is situated at the foothills of the Himalayas in Rishikesh, India. The ashram itself is a few stories high and, although the area around it is sadly expanding and developing, there is a remaining peacefulness that fills every room. The breeze from the Ganga river dances in and out of all the windows and is said to be medicinal having picked up not only the positive energy from the river, but also the healing qualities from the herbs and plants living in the mountains. The garden is a small but peaceful area where fire puja is held every morning. A simple explanation of fire puja is a worship or an offering to the universe to recognise the significance of fire over the years. Fire has provided food, heat, light and life over thousands of years and puja is an offering of thanks.
Fire puja was just one of the daily rituals we would perform while we were in the ashram and each manifested deeply inside me as I was taken back to a type of life where we slowed down and were aware enough to show gratitude for the things in life that really matter. We would wake at 5am for morning mediation which, with the energy of everybody in the room, as India woke up with the sun outside. was a beautiful time in itself. We would continue our journey up the stairs to the studio where Vishva Ji would guide us through a holistic yoga practice of pranayma, meditation, asana and laughter for an hour and a half when we would all blissfully and silently make our way down to breakfast. The ashram had a rule of silence between 9pm and 9am which meant the morning yoga session had time to manifest and breakfast was eaten in silence before class would start.
For meals we would all sit on the floor in the dining room with little low tables while the kitchen staff and a member of our group would serve us an Ayurvedic delight. Once all our dishes were full we would chant and it was time to eat. Fire puja was next on the schedule before our studying started. Through the middle of the day, either side of our lunch break we would either study Yoga Philosophy, Anatomy or Practical. We'd then have dinner before tea and either homework or kirtan and bed.
It was during the philosophy classes that I learnt so much about yoga as a tool for life. The daily stresses we all go through, the wanting more, the needing and attachment, the disappointment and many more daily feelings and emotions that we don't need to feel. Being conscious of my own actions and decisions. Not judging and opening my heart. It was like a light bulb going on in my life. It all felt so obvious but yet so profound. Every day I was absorbing this information and every night I would return to my room that I shared with Kat and Sayaka and we would talk and share. Kat and Sayaka were my roomies for the duration of the course and they were incredible. Both so strong and inspiring in similar ways and I immediately felt close to them. I loved sharing a space with them and Kat's passion for what we were learning was addictive.
One night at Kirtan, a call and response style of singing, accompanied by instruments, we were all sat in a circle, with candles lit and incense burning. The next song that was selected was Shiva Shambo, a beautiful but powerful melody that came to be our favourite. As the singing crescendoed so did the thunder storm outside and with a big crack of thunder, the lights went out, leaving only the candles lit and the strong words of Shiva Shambo continuing around the room. It was a real magical moment and the smiles on everybody's face was enough to know that we had all felt it.
Every morning we would have our yoga session and every afternoon Visva Ji would answer queries or concerns or simply spread his knowledge of postures around the room. Using volunteers from our group to demonstrate and speak of safety checkpoints and posture alternatives. Vishva Ji was always smiling. He would float into the room so calmly and his contentment was visible for us all to see. His yoga classes were not only challenging but fun and his endless knowledge was addictive. I still wish to this day that I could become his personal student for not only yoga but all the wonderful wisdom that he holds in his beard! He had all the time in the world for each and every one of us and his playfulness reminded me that we never need to grow up.
I wish I could write more about my experience on the course. The amazing teachers, Mira, Rashmi, Aruna whose stories and support and passion are worthy of a blog to themselves. The meditation experiences and the incredible, life changing philosophy. When I try to write about them I just can't find the words and to try wouldn't give you a fair and accurate account of my experience. I don't want to put an average label on something that was beyond my vocabulary.
And so the course continued. With hiking trips to waterfalls and to the Ganga for breakfast, festivals of light (and sweets) and games on the beach. Nights of music and visits from an 103 year old yogi who could still put his legs behind his head. We all built such wonderful relationships with each other and with ourselves and all learnt such a lot. I think every single person on that yoga teacher training course will tell you just how incredible the course was for them. It was more than any of us could have imagined and we all left Rishikesh feeling grateful, blessed and richer for the experience, as what we learnt will last a lifetime.
Hari Om
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