A Walk to Narayanthan temple

A few days ago I took a beautiful solo walk to Narayanthan temple. It is a on a peak, about the same height as Mount Mahabharat, at the top of another ridge line nearby. The temple at the top is a Vishnu temple. Vishnu is the Hindu deity known as the preserver, represents sattva, and is associated with the good in the world.

The walk to the temple had been calling me for some time, but I hadn’t made it work yet to go, so I was excited when I figured out where the trail likely split to head to the top. I’d tried to find it another time but had walked up a side trail that eventually disappeared, just a couple hundred feet and maybe quarter mile from the summit. It was another lovely adventure. It takes about 4 hours round-trip of walking to complete, going at a strong but comfortable pace, gaining about 2,800 feet (850 meters) in 3 miles (4.8 km) for a 6 mile round trip. 

After the rains the dry streambed filled with water, creating small cascades and clear pools.

The walk from the homestay is beautiful. If you are coming from Kathmandu, you would catch transport to Dhunkharka and walk about one hour up to the collection of village homestays. After the steep hike up the dirt road through the upper village of Bethanchowk, you take a trail that starts out rolling, and after about 10 minutes of walking through a lovely forest for a few minutes along a steep ravine, the riverbed comes up to meet you and you walk alongside the seasonal stream for a while, the granite boulders becoming quite large in places. Because of the recent precipitation, the stream was running in some places, adding to the ambiance with the soft sound of running water. 

Ascending through the jungle forest of the mid hills of Nepal.

After passing a huge landslide, there is a break in the trail. We’ve done some group forest meditations by going just up the left fork, and I had always gone that way before. The right fork starts to ascend the hillside, in short and steep switchbacks. Heading up the switchbacks the forest becomes even more verdant and beautiful. The trail follows uphill along steep, cascading streams and step-pools, the shades of green multiply. 

Eventually there is another fork; heading left continues uphill, and soon there is a rock staircase, making the footing better, but the climb is still grueling. The rock work is incredible; I wonder how long it has been there, who maintains it. There are many conifers that have their heartwood burned out but still survive and even thrive on their cambium. Their twisting shapes are fascinating to look at. 

At the next junction, another left, to begin more or less following the ridge line; sometimes walking on one, sometimes the other, or right along the top of the ridge. This is mostly covered in a type of oak that also responds positively to fire; some of these trees are half burned up along one side and then completely healthy on the other. This elevation is completely in clouds that are constantly changing, creating a dramatic and ethereal atmosphere. 

The only downsides of this walk were the amount of trash, and the number of really loud people. This situation with the trash makes me sad; I would want to pick it up or organize a group to do so.. at the same time, it’s not like I’ll be able to make any cultural change; there is also too much on this particular trail. Maybe I’ll have a chance to do this on Mahabharat in the next few days. This first day I summited, it was a Saturday (Nepal’s day off) and the amount of people was off-putting, more so because many of them were really loud, shouting to each other up and down the trail and around the temple itself. Also, being a female on my own, I got a lot of strange looks.

Shiva tridents on the ridge above the temple, with the ever-shifting sky opening up. To the left on this ridge is a drop straight down a couple hundred feet.

Arriving at the temple was still amazing. It is a small building made of brick, square; outside there is an alter colorfully covered in red and yellow pigments, and numerous Shiva tridents surrounding. An obelisk with a Buddha statue on the top of it, probably 8 feet off the ground, is situated outside the opening. There are small offerings of incense, flowers, scattered inside. During my first ascent I didn’t stay long due to the number of people, but I went again a few days later with a friend from the homestay; upon our arrival the sky magically opened up from dense clouds to a clear blue above us. We spent a while up there, wandering around the peak, and taking in the views that continuously changed with the swift movement of the clouds. 

A small shrine outside the temple, decorated with pigments and offerings of incense, rice, and flowers.

While the Mahabharat hike is completely amazing as well, these two trails have different feels. Narayanthan is more developed, and the part along the rock path really defines that; it also adds a charm. Having a destination like a temple is appealing, but knowing it could be traveled by a lot of people, especially if the culture is to be loud and throw thrash, takes away some of the allure. On Mahabharat, the only people you see are locals, and they tend to be in the forest harvesting fodder for their cows, carrying loads on these steep trails that I could never imagine even budging. The entire length of the Mahabharat is sharply uphill, whereas Naranyathan has very steep sections as well as areas of rolling ups and downs. Mahabharat has more of an almost wilderness appeal, as the trail is smaller (but still distinct) to follow, and encounters with others are less common. Both trails are amazing walks through the local jungly forest!

Enjoy a few more photos from my trip in the slideshow below!

Stone staircase leading up the switchbacks after about halfway up. I wonder how long ago it was built and who maintains it. 

Burned out trees create cool images. 

A sub-summitof Mahabharat in the clouds. 

Final switchbacks leading to the temple.

The sickle and green onions sitting here, with no one around, seems so Nepali.

Statues inside the temple.

Teaching Yoga and Meditation at mount Mahabharat Homestay in Bethanchok Village

For two months I am the resident yoga teacher at the Mount Mahabharat Homestay in Bethanchok, a community of homes on the hillsides outside of Dhunkharka, a small village in the Kavre district of Nepal, about 50 km southeast of Kathmandu.

Opening my heart to what blessings may come… staying warmed by a fire during our late afternoon forest meditation.

Because the majority of guests are independent travelers, I’ve had the opportunity to connect with each one on a deeply personal level, and to offer yoga and meditation classes tailored to their interests and needs. So far my students have ranged from complete beginners, to people with significant body injuries needing modifications, to those actively practicing and pursuing yoga as part of their lifestyle, and those who have a dedicated meditation practice. But since I’ve been able to have intimate conversations with people about their experience, aims and goals, the classes I’ve been able to offer have been personalized and deeply touching in a way that I haven’t achieved before in a studio setting.

The schedule is fluid. Tea-time is at approximately 7:30, and breakfast is somewhere between 9:30 and 10. This can fluctuate based on whatever else may be happening in the meta-world around us - with the family, with other things out side. Class begins at 8ish, so that we can have tea. Each class begins with a meditation. I invested in a truly amazing singing bowl when I went to Kathmandu, so I’ve been doing sound meditations to start. Then we practice some pranayama (breathwork). These set the stage for asana practice. Each sequence is built around individual students’ needs. It is energizing, challenging, and meditative. Because of the rapport we build, I’m able to be very attentive to students needs in terms of breath work and alignment. At any point we can stop and break down poses. We are able to just move with the flow of the feel of the day... some days I’ll do a gentler Hatha class, other days an energizing Vinyasa flow, or a more disciplined and alignment focused Ashtanga-inspired class. Right now I am so grateful for both the depth and breadth of my yoga training, as it is all synthesizing for me to be able to lead beautiful and individually-tailored experiences.

Depending on students’ interests we’ve been doing an additional yoga or meditation focused activity in the afternoons. This has manifested as afternoon yoga play with arm balances, inversions, and the like, and several walks into the beautiful surrounding forest-jungle that surrounds us. While morning meditations have been guided, these forest meditations have been silent - observing the world around us and our place in it, feeling gratitude to just be in this incredible landscape. 

Clare (UK), Leona (Switzerland), and Hannah (Austria) sit quietly in meditative reflection during a forest hike to a nearby waterfall.

These classes are truly special and unlike any I’ve taught back at home in a studio situation. Even back at home when I’ve had small classes of 1-2 people, they have not had the intimate feel of the classes I’ve taught here. Right now I’m feeling super-addicted to continuing to be able to teach yoga like this. The feedback I’ve gotten, through both the words and the shining eyes and glowing faces of my students after class finishes, has also been outstanding. Reflecting on this, I feel like my capability in teaching yoga and guiding meditation has also blossomed into a new level, and its even more exciting to be able to share with people to help them create a peaceful and graceful heart, a lightness of being, and a groundedness in purpose.

You are - exactly - where you need to be. 

Brahmin Ceremony at Mount Mahabharat Homestay

A couple weeks ago was both Kamal’s birthday (he is the head of household at the homestay) and a Vedic holiday. Since his family is of the Brahmin caste (that consists of priests and scholars), a fire ceremony was conducted right in the courtyard area of the home here. 

The men sat around a circle, drawn with powdered pigments sprinkled on the ground to create a mandala. Incense was lit, and offerings were set out in a very calculated manner. There was a mantra of chanting repeating in the background, while some of the men read from sacred texts, chanting other, longer, more complicated sutras. The fire was lit, chanting continued, and offerings were made to the fire. Offerings included fruits, grains, ghee, milk, rupees… This process continued for five or six hours... with a break for lunch, and then things continued until late in the day.

I can’t relate much of the symbolism behind it all, but Kamal wanted photos and said that I could share them, so here is a photo documentary of the ceremony.

Settling into my Homestay in Nepal

It’s been about three weeks since I landed in Nepal, finding myself mostly at a Homestay where I am teaching yoga to the volunteers and visitors that come through here.

While I really have been wanting to post in my blog about the experience, I’ve been having a hard time... there is so much all at once, it is such a new and different culture to have landed into, and every time I begin.. it just doesn’t seem to go anywhere. It’s like there is so much material, constant stimulation and learning of some kind or another, and I am not sure how to put it all into words. Here is my first attempt, so that my future posts may go into some more of the nuances as I am ready to focus on them.

Incoming view on the plane. I’m pretty sure the hills in the foreground emerging from the clouds are pretty close to where I am staying.

I actually teared up in awe on the plane when I first saw the Himalayan range - uncontrollably enough that I had to place my shirt over my eyes. It is so beautiful, majestic, and heart-stopping. My window seat was on the left side. I’d been looking out and seeing only lowlands and haze. As we were drawing nearer I wondered why I didn’t see any mountains yet. And then I looked out the opposite window and - bam - big ass mountains. I was seated on the wrong side. But the plane took a wide turn and in front and out my window was a view of the incredible range.

Comforts and discomforts as i Find My Place

Even though travel is rewarding, and overall my experience has been incredible and positive, my first days definitely took some adjustment. I’m just sharing this because so many people can think of travel as a complete blissful experience, but there are hardships and uncomfortable things to overcome as well. The challenge and places of discomfort is where we can grow… I always try to ask myself what is the root of my discomfort, where is it coming from, is it really necessary, and see how I can learn from there. Sometimes I discover something about myself… a place where i can let go of ego, or maybe where a past trauma is surfacing. Other times I can look at the bigger picture, and see that what I am feeling is really not significant or something to worry about in the long run. A lot of times things change as I examine them, either through my perspective evolving, or through actual evolution of a situation.

The family I’m staying with is very sweet and accommodating and I have immense gratitude for their openness, their kindness, and their generosity, but cultural and language differences made it hard to feel comfortable from the start. One of the strangest things to me is that people don’t all really eat together. Guests eat first, and then the family. Sometimes that means I eat alone. I heard from a friend in the city that in some traditional places people from different castes (the caste system exists here too) don’t even eat together. Coming from a place like the farm where I have lived the last few winters, where so many good times are shared over meals, this took some getting used to. Many times there are other visitors here so I eat with them. At first it felt really awkward, especially since we often eat in the main house. But it comes out of a place of respect, there is even a Nepali saying, “Guests are our god.” As I become more connected here, it has become less formal, and I’ve also become more accustomed to how this goes.

Typical view of the village… heavily terraced mountain hillsides, right now covered with blooming mustard flowers.

There is only a certain level of interest in English conversation with me - a lot of times I’m sitting there completely in the dark as to what is going on around me. Since I was pretty fluent in Spanish while I traveled in Latin America, and could join in any conversation, this feels so foreign and can be alienating. While I’m trying to learn a bit of vocabulary, it will be impossible, especially without dedicated language classes which are not available in this tiny town, to progress much with a language that is so different. I guess I expected more intentional interaction and cultural exchange, but I suppose the family has enough people that come through that it would be exhausting for them to make an effort like that with each person. As my stay extends, the connections are beginning to form in bits and pieces, communication is increasing in general, and consequently I’m also feeling more comfortable as the invited outsider. In general I’m more of a quiet and observational person, especially as a traveler, and so I start to notice subtle things on a daily basis - things that both solve questions I’ve had as well as create new ones.

The cold added another layer of discomfort which drove me into my room with the space heater on more often than I would have liked. Since we are at 7,000 feet even when a cloud would obscure the sun during the day, or a slight wind would pick up, it would change from feeling nice to nearly frigid in a manner of moments. The blankets would keep me warm enough in bed but there is literally no insulation in the house and there are even openings in the building to the outside where the wood isn’t planed. The wiring wasn’t enough the support all of the heaters when the Homestay was full for a couple nights and it melted out and Kamal (the owner) had to rewire the whole house! Which he did, with a thicker gage wire, quickly and competently. The last week it has warmed up and the days are perfect and the nights cool but no longer frigid and my comfort level has increased dramatically.

A 180 degree view of the Himalayan Range is visible from the top of Mount Mahabharat on a clear day.

Aside from the initial adjustments, the last few weeks have actually brought quite a bit of variety: two attempts (one successful!) to climb the nearby peak for sunrise, several volunteers from many countries (USA, Canada, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, UK, and Nepal) and the opportunity to teach yoga and meditation, a whirlwind trip to Kathmandu, rides on the backs of motos, witnessing a Brahmin Vedic ceremony, interactions with the people of the surrounding village, many walks and explorations in which my feet take me to different destinations nearby, and deepening my own yoga and meditation practice. 

As I quietly observe the daily life here there is  so much opportunity for reflection about ... just life! People of all ages and genders work the fields doing backbreaking work; the fields are designed in efficient and beautiful raised rows that allows for ease of harvesting as well as flooding of the pathways in order to water the deeper roots of the crops. Men, women, and children alike carry huge bundles of freshly cut branches, larger than they are, on their backs, up and down steep hillsides, to bring to feed their cows and buffalo. These are chopped up in these chopper things that you can hear resounding across the mountain. The animals are everywhere: cows “OM” during my yoga classes, goats followed us from the forest back into the village one day, and cluster in front of people’s homes.

Our host Goma as some of the other guests help to shred the biggest radishes I’ve ever seen to dry and preserve them.

Food is so central to culture and life; it is amazing all the processes that happen and energy that is put in to produce, preserve, and prepare it. For days I helped to sort out dried beans - pulling out broken or insect eaten beans... corn is dried on the cob, then shucked, then dried again, then ground into cornflour. The largest radishes I’ve ever seen (and sweetest I’ve ever tasted) are cleaned, and then grated, dried on the rooftops, and then stored for later use. Mustard and other green leaves are also sorted, pounded, and dried to save for year-round use. And the preparation of food seems nearly constant in order to feed the family themselves (of 6) and however many guests, whether local friends, visitors from other parts of Nepal, or international visitors may be here.

Women do all of this work, as well as all of the other housework - cleaning, washing the dishes, laundry (by hand of course), everything to do with raising the children, and even refinishing the earthen floors with a new clean layer of mud every couple of weeks. Women are mostly married by the time they are 18 years old and children soon after; arranged marriages are not uncommon and the girls leave their homes to come and live with their husband’s family. Women also have many certain rules when they are having their periods and cannot touch things in the kitchen as well as many other things I’m not sure of yet. They also are not part of certain ceremonies - when the Brahmin ceremony happened no women were allowed to enter the circle; the prepared all of the food for everyone and made sure everything was attended to. They are such a strong backbone, and do all of this with grace and a selflessness and do not seem to question it. They are all so surprised that I am unmarried and without kids. And I can’t imagine life without the freedoms I’ve been raised with to explore the world and my interests as I’ve been gifted to experience. 

There is so much more, but this is enough for now. 

A visit to the Black Lahu hill tribes of Doi Modt, Thailand

On my weekend break from my Thai massage course I ended up in a completely amazing place about 70km from Chiang Mai with David and Sierra. It is a home stay called Limeleaf. It feels like a little jungle oasis. While there is the sound of a chainsaw as I write at 8:30 at night which seems so out of place in the darkness other than that is just the insects and the slight breeze blowing. Instead of sounds of silence as in the desert of Saline Valley it is the sounds of life murmuring, 24 hours a day. 

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One of the cute accommodation spaces at the Limeleaf eco-hostel.

You walk here, the last 0.7 kilometers. If you don’t have a motorbike anyways. There is no road, just a simple path, much of it which is paved no wider than a foot path and in some places quite steep. Vinnai rides his motorbike up here. I’m thankful we didn’t choose that as our method of transport. We took a yellow taxi (set route) from Chiang Mai and then the reserve had a car sent to us. Apparently the battery died on the one the reserve owns so they hired a driver. I have a pretty high tolerance for strangeness and have traveled quite a few countries but the beater car that picked us up made me think twice about throwing my pack in and jumping in. Pieces of the car had literally fallen off in places and as we wound around the mountain curves it barely made it up some of the steep hills in low gear, but we made it to a fairly random spot on the side of the road. A sign said Limeleaf and Vinnai told us to walk up the road, up and up, and (with a wink) dont get lost.

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Vinnai playing music on the porch of the main house.

The man who owns it is the most amazing old Thai man one could ever hope to meet. He’s a Thai Cowboy, and is straight out of a fantastic movie set or story. Wearing a black leather vest and a white Beatles tshirt, playing Thai traditional and American songs on his guitar, with white hair down to his shoulders and a white handlebar stashe to round it out, 5’2” at the most, he tells us of how he’s lived in the mountains for 40 years and has seen the changes in climate and weather, and loves John Denver, and wants to go to the old West of the US to experience cowboy culture. The huts here are all of bamboo and earthen walls, simple and not up to any building code; creative, with mattresses and seating pads all over the place. All of the little details come at you slowly and subtly and are comforting, unpretentious and creative. It is so homey and it would be so easy to stay a few days.

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A sign inside the abandoned Muay Thai boxing school

We go on a little walk. At first the path takes us up to a clearing. Vinnai tells us that the buildings we saw were from an abandoned Muay Thai center. The guy built it and didn’t like it so he left. Approaching the huts their palm frond roofs are beginning to be overgrown by flowering vines of several species. The paths are covered in knee high plants. We see the welcome center and then find the building with a full-on boxing ring inside of it. Hung above the concrete foundation of the fighting ring are flags from countries all over the world. In the morning we come back and play around with all the equipment: kettlebells and punching bags of all sorts, jump ropes and pull-up handles. The huts that were intended for accommodations are even further grown over, almost swallowed by the fast-growing tropical vegetation.

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Abandoned Muay Thai boxing ring.

The flora is of everywhere. In one gaze you can see a palm tree, a conifer, a cherry with sparse and delicate pink blossoms, a prickly pear, and a generic rainforest house plant. In another you might see a pine and a banana in close proximity. Many things are blooming. Vinnai shared a few sips of the liquor he made and infused with several local plants in the area and it is delicious and potent. 

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Cherries beginning to blossom.

Dinner is amazing. A chicken and potato soup is flavored to be some of the best I have ever tasted. Cabbage is prepared in an amazing sauce and sweet potatoes that are cubed and soft and so rich: all so simple and incredible. Breakfast and lunch the next morning were similarly delicious and prepared with love; after eating out and all of the variety we found in Chiang Mai, a home cooked meal was very satisfying.

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The kitchen area.

Before leaving the following afternoon, we walk through two of the three small villages in the vicinity. Tiny little girls no more than three years old greet us with “hello you!” and prayer hands, waving at us as we walk by. Pigs and dogs roll around on earthen floors together. People are cutting firewood, building steps, reinforcing mud walls. The buildings remind me of other tropical villages I have spent time in, in Latin America, coastal Ecuador, the Amazon. The locals, small and strong and browned from the sun, with huge smiles and shining happy eyes characteristic of humans who still haven’t been forced into modern chaos, greet us warmly into their village spaces. 

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Family of pigs in town.

Incredibly, we found a coffee shop, ordered a cup of coffee. It is brought out to us in a metal French press. The beans, harvested just up the hill, are drying in the sun nearby. The coffee shop owner sits there, talking to us in surprisingly proficient English as she hand-sews a piece of clothing for the new year (next week) for her daughter. She speaks three languages: Thai, English, and their native Lahu. Her mother approaches us with a bag of locally made goods, hoping for more sales, but we all don’t have much space for souvenirs at this point. 

Locally harvested coffee beans drying.

I’d highly recommend giving this area a visit if you are in Chiang Mai and want to escape the city for a bit. The mountains are nearby and there are both short and long trekking options available, as well as nearby waterfalls to visit. I’m sure you could have more opportunities to learn more about the local culture. I could perfectly envision staying a while to work on a book or other project. It is easily accessible, affordable, and the money is going directly to and supporting small communities where the way of life is important to be preserved or it will be lost. 

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Upper village view as we walked down from Limeleaf.

A week of yoga in the San Luis Valley

When I arrived to Annie’s yoga shala in Crestone, Colorado the temperatures were solidly between the negative single digits and teens for several days, and the snow glistened like soft iridescent crystals. But the sky was clear with hints of moodiness just enough to highlight the drama of the peaks of the Sangre de Cristo mountain range, the backdrop of the town.

The shala (yoga studio) is smaller than I’d have imagined for an internationally renowned teacher. The intimate setting is carefully put together with an array of images of Hindu deities, beautiful fabrics from India, incense, props hidden away neatly concealed in benches to the side of the room. Soft straw bale and earthen walls and bamboo floors are inviting and soothing. The lights are soft and warm.

Annie is small-framed, nimble, strong, vibrant, peaceful, open-hearted. While it is apparent she follows a sattvic lifestyle she is still relatable and comfortable, even throwing in a few lighthearted curse words here and there. She could be slightly intimidating and you can tell by her presence she is a strong force, but at the same time I don’t feel afraid to say I don’t know when she tests my knowledge or admit my faults when she asks me about my habits. Annie spent years studying with the founder of Ashtanga. Sri K. Pattabhi Jois, and has been going to India for months at a time to the Mysore Institute for the last 30 years. People who have spent that much time in India studying yoga have a presence about them.

This was my first time receiving a private yoga lesson. I’ve been through two teacher trainings that have earned me 500 hours in yoga teacher training credits, but have never just had a one-on-one with a teacher. And here, I find myself in a small but beautiful room, with someone whom I’ve never met, talking about my past and my aspirations in yoga, about yoga philosophy, and being teased and tested, poked and prodded in to better alignment, trusting that with her guidance my yoga practice will improve.

I came here in part because I fell in love with Crestone when I came through here last year and knew I had to come back. This place is stunningly beautiful, where the eastern edge of the San Luis Valley meets the base of the impressive Sangre de Cristo Mountains, remote and quirky, a town of 1400 people that contains 25 spiritual centers of an array of religions.

Great Sand Dunes with a fresh blanket of snow.

I also came here, because I wanted to give myself a yoga immersion, booking a one-week in-depth study with Annie Pace based on a friend’s recommendation. The last few months I’ve felt myself slowly slipping out of place. It has been an interesting observation, to see how my yoga and meditation practice has evolved, and slipped, and grown, and changed, through the various challenges I’ve been put through in the last year. My yoga practice has truly been my root, my rock, my anchor, in any situation that has begun to unearth me, erode my sense of being, ask me to take a look at the core of myself. At the same time, I need a recharge. I need a catalyst to bring me back to that center, that peace, living a more sattvic lifestyle, increasing my mindfulness of the yamas and niyamas, growing my asana practice so that I can feel unstuck and experience new growth.

The private lesson was really great. Because she’s been through injury herself (specifically shoulder, which is my main problem as well – this really resonated) she was able to offer modifications to help me gain my strength and stabilize my shoulder. She keyed into many small alignment issues to remind me of my foundation in basic poses. She really helped me to refine my breathing (there is a very specific breath pattern in Ashtanga – although our teacher touched on it in my YTT it was not a big topic of discussion). The style was extremely traditional, and I found her manner of teaching to be a very good balance of very authentically bringing eastern teachings and presenting them to western culture.

As I’ve been faltering lately in my study and practice, I could not remember some of the Sanskrit names of the yamas and niyamas, and some of the asanas (why do 2/3 of the asanas in the Ashtanga sequence start with a P and have about 80 letters????). It was a little uncomfortable to feel on the spot, to feel self-doubt, to feel myself being unable to remember some of these basic things that I do know deep down inside but couldn’t recall. At the same time, as she’s said, it is our first meeting so she also cannot have any expectations of me. Just seeing what I’ve lost in the last six or so months of slowly lessening study has inspired me to go back again and focus more on my svadhyaya (self study, self reflection). And in my summertimes I work very hard, and in the winter it is time for self study, reflection, giving back, growth.

While I don’t typically teach Ashtanga, I integrate it into many of my classes. The physical practice is very much about discipline, strength, and correct alignment, and I find myself drawn to it as a form of yoga to study and influence my yoga path. Just as with many things I find myself appreciating their diverse forms, so I doubt I’ll ever become strictly an Ashtanga teacher, but I find the practice very beneficial to what I need.  The opportunity to study with such a competent and devoted teacher will surely influence my practice into the future.

9 Things I’ve learned living on a school bus

 It’s my two year anniversary of my first trip in my school bus! Wheel of Fortune, or Beluga Blanca (the White Whale), kinda fell into my lap and I figured I’d give it a go since I’d thought about living in a tiny mobile space. Here’s a few life lessons I’ve learned along the way:

1)    Hard Skills

Being on my own, having little background in carpentry or building or engines, this was an absolute requirement. I’ve learned about mechanics, changed my thermostat, diagnosed and fixed my radiator hose. Installed flooring, made a folding butcher block countertop, designed a kitchen. (my bus came to me livable, but ripe for improvements.) Learning how to screw into metal and get comfortable building basic things has been huge! Everything takes me longer as I learn about different tools, methods, read forums, and get advice from people with experience. The empowerment that comes along with it is kinda an adrenaline rush. Just because you don’t know it, doesn’t mean you can’t know it. And hire an expert when you want to! Nothing wrong with that either!

2)    Obstacles arise when you least expect them

This, too? There’s no way to predict when something will go wrong. Sometimes you just have to roll with it. Be flexible. Take a deep breath. Accept that you have to release the reigns of control in your life and see where it takes you. Bus life has overall treated me really well, but when something does go wrong, it has the potential to be big and/or expensive and/or quite inconvenient! On my first trip out west, my radiator hose blew just outside Primm, Nevada, on the border with California, as I was about to cross 100 miles of Mojave desert before the next town. With all of my chosen material items with me and a job to start in three days, I was questioning life choices. But I fixed it.

Be creative, work through it, and keep a good attitude. A solution always comes.

3)    Have courage, trust yourself, listen to intuition

The purchase of this bus was completely spontaneous. I’d been thinking/dreaming about living in a tiny house on wheels for a long time, but hadn’t pursued it; most of them were out of my budget range and I wasn’t ready to build one. When this happened, I followed my gut, and decided to give it 6 months. And as it unfolded, everything I needed just worked out. If I sat with it, had patience, had faith, was true to myself… everything just materialized as it needed to. From exceptional places to park and live to friends who wanted to road trip with me to help me move my Subaru, I’ve been so blessed when I just release the stress and listen to my heart.

4)    The whole world is my home

Living in my bus, everywhere I go is my home. Now that I’ve had it settled in a handful of different places, it feels so comforting to explore a whole different surrounding and come back to familiarity at night. Hosting friends for toasty warm winter dinners boondocking in the Buttermilks, posting up at my friend’s farm during the winter, botanizing whatever gig calls to me in the summer, and feeling freed up to be able to travel even more lightly across the country or around the world in the off-season... truly living life at home wherever I am. It may not be forever that I’m exploring this much, or maybe it will be my lifestyle for a while longer – we’ll see! – but I can only be grateful to cultivate this feeling of being at home in mySELF, and hold it in myself wherever I may be.

5)    Happiness in Simplicity  /  I have everything I need

And it feels amazing! Even though I do art and photoraphy, do all sorts of outdoor activities, play music, practice yoga, cook, in this tiny little mobile space, I can comfortably fit everything! I have my gear, my instruments, a full kitchen, art and supplies to be creative, space to practice yoga. I’ve simplified and have room for all sorts of things that make me happy to be able to do in life. Beyond the actual material items, just the feeling of contentment with what I do have (sure, I desire improvements, but just completely happy with how it IS). The more I believe I have everything I need, the more things come to me just as I imagine them. The closer each of us is to finding the contentment with what you have, reducing our wants, the higher your stoke level goes.

6)    People are kind

And the ones that are assholes, are usually dealing with deep pain, problems, suffering, projecting. But really, the people I’ve encountered as a journey with this bus has really been fantastic. From the mechanics I met at Travertine Hot Springs who helped me check my brakes on site, to the Cedar Grove buddies who helped me install my hardwood floor, to the friends who’ve made my moving trips into epic road adventures, the bus has built relationships and helped me to see more kindness in humanity. I’ve been welcomed into peoples lives and we share and create together and it’s beautiful.

So blessed for this little town to be my home base for the last two winters with its sweet community and beautiful views.

7)    There’s not one right way to live this world

As a seasonal botanist and frequent traveler, my life had already not followed a straight or normal path, but taking a plunge to move into a skoolie just cemented that. And each day, I’m more thankful! It has led me to embrace even more fully the life I’ve been given to live. Instead of being frustrated trying to find short-term apartments, live in less than satisfying living situations, I’ve been able to root down in places and give back to the land and help people where I am. As I follow my dharma, my destiny, with this bus, I’m grateful to be able to experience life in a way that is all my own. I hope more and more people can resonate with that! If it calls to you to go the normal route – do it! – but if you don’t, embrace whatever road you are on, wherever it calls you. And don’t forget to get to know other people from all walks of life and listen to their stories, too.

8)    A little discomfort is where you can grow

Overall, my bus is super comfortable. Like spring in Three Rivers, when it is perfect springtime, and the windows are down, and it doesn’t get too cold at night or hot during the day. But yeah – my insulation is not the best and it gets a bit chilly i.e. in Bishop in the low 20s and snow on the ground, or middle of summer heat waves with smoky skies. Other discomfort would be when trying to drive this beast for the first time, or parking in a new city. Or overheating as you’re going up a big hill. But these challenges, of whatever sort – it really does help your character grow. You learn, you adjust, you become adaptable. Seeing the sunrise on the summit is worth getting up to see it.

9)    Increased self love and self acceptance

Because I chose this alternative home for my home base, I’ve had to fully embrace the life I’m living. Some people thought it was crazy – I’ll admit, I did too! But what has flowered from it has been freedom and love. Between this and my yoga practice, my self-love has grown, and been shared with those around me. I’ve become a more positive person. Opportunities have opened up. Owning a bus on its own is not going to make you love yourself, but for me it gave me the means to live my life in a way that was flexible and opened things up to be easier for me. Finding struggles fall away, one can self-examine more. Even though my house is on wheels, I feel more grounded than I had in a while.

I hope this was inspiring to you to follow whatever dream you may have, whatever other people may think of it. There is always space to learn and grow, your path is your story to live and to share. Blossom!

Reflections On Becoming a Yoga Teacher

Yoga is an expansive discipline, and there are many different avenues and certifications one may choose to study it. There are many branches one may learn about and each of these has interwoven yet distinct philosophies, sacred texts, exercises. While there are a set of common postures, going about them in an Iyengar class will be different than approaching it through Vinyasa. Taking a hot sweaty core power class will engage a completely different student than a yin meditative class. As I learn more and more about yoga, sometimes it is hard to pinpoint what it is, until you go back to the first Sutras:

Yoga is the stilling of the fluctuations of the mind, and with stillness of the mind you come to your own true nature.

Maybe you go about this through an intense asana practice. Or maybe asana simply keeps your limbs flexible and body strong as you go about the rest of your life. Or the physical healing aspects of yoga therapy have moved you through an injury or any type of deep healing. Maybe you love the chanting, the mantra, the kirtan. Perhaps stoking the Kundalini fire is what you love to experience. Or Tantra. Or Bhakti. Whatever it is, with all of the positive results from yoga (I’ve been reading The Science of Yoga by William J Broad lately and it’s been fascinating to be presented with a synthesis that whets the left/sciency side of my brain), both in the mind and body, whatever form someone is drawn to, it seems like a good thing.

Arriving at a place to teach yoga from the heart, from the spirit, and with a depth of knowledge requires a concrete refinement of one’s own practice, which cannot be received through a 200, 300, or 500 hour certificate alone.

When I completed my yoga teacher trainings (200-hour Prana Vinyasa with Monica Mesa and Lily Russo; 300-hour in Rishikesh, India, with a composite of teachers at Chandra Yoga Ashram), they were transformative experiences. And truly, my journey towards teaching was about wanting to deepen my own practice. I only found out that I enjoyed teaching because I was required to through the class. But then… how do I really feel like a teacher?

At what point do I transform from someone who has simply completed some requirements, to someone who can handle all of the nuances in order to competently compose a class, cater to who shows up, offer something new and/or rewarding, understand individual body nuances and guide others into their deepest asana, integrate meditation, introduce philosophy in an authentic and uncanned presentation?

Dangit I can’t even get into Pincha Mayurasana without assistance! –am I a real teacher if I can’t Instagram some fancy poses? (I joke.) I think several other classmates echoed these same questions upon finishing our coursework. What differentiates someone as a yoga teacher, from someone who completes a teacher training?

My immersive course in India was completed about 13 months ago. It rocked my world, in so many ways, and continues to as each day I reflect upon the world differently. It is as if now I have a roadmap for life and for navigating obstacles. The challenges still come; they are like lessons, reflections to myself of myself. I see my flaws and pick myself up to try to go at it again. Sometimes I fail – we all do – and sometimes it hurts and sometimes it sucks. But overall the perspective and mindset shift that was initiated has started to snowball into larger change.

In the last year my practice has transformed, too. And through that, my teaching has transformed. It has become more confident, just as my understanding of the Sutras and of asana has deepened through daily practice. It has become more healing, just as I’ve learned to heal my sometimes sad spirit and learn forgiveness and acceptance to my body and mind. It has strengthened and been challenging, just as I’ve adopted a more rigorous practice. And it has become more loving, as my own self-love has blossomed and spilled out into friendships, relationships, and the world.

When I first started teaching, one thing that motivated me was that it kept my own practice strong. At that point I still was working towards making it habit to do yoga every day. In my first YTT, Monica had a lot of emphasis to teach authentically and to make sure to do your own practice for self care before your offerings to students: you can’t teach if you haven’t developed what you are going to give. Life just had this way of always getting in the way of doing a morning asana practice; it was easy to put off meditation and sleep in a few extra minutes instead. When I had a class scheduled, I made sure to strengthen my practice, even spending days to put together what I thought would be a good sequence or theme.

As my growth as a teacher unfolds, I find that I teach because I really feel I do have something to offer. My daily practice has grown and is reflected in my alignment and deepening in postures; in that what feels like an advanced posture has shifted over the last couple years. By using yoga in working through my own struggles, I’ve learned a thing or two and that it can be explored or released together in asana or meditation. Not that I’m perfect, or any better than anyone else. But that by sharing what I do have, hopefully I can help someone else out of a funk in their day or their week, relax their muscles, help them come into an arm balance for the first time, share a smile or some laughter: to be in this space together that is expansive, sharing gratitude that we get to live this world through all of the different stories that create our experiences, that we get to learn whatever our journeys are presenting.

What a blessing it is, to be able to share yoga with people – to not be on a righteous path with it, but to be able to share guidance on getting through this world with greater ease, more joy, love that can’t be contained, and maintaining a youthful, supple body to support it all! I’m grateful to teach, and to learn from all of the other teachers I encounter – in all walks of life.

May all beings be happy and free.

New Year - Lovingkindness - Gayatri Meditation

I want to share a beautiful mantra and meditation practice that I did on the first day of the new year. It is not one that is geared specifically toward the new year (lol I took plenty of intention setting time this year too!), but just something that came to me that integrated a couple of other meditations that I have done.

The practice was a combination of 108 repetitions of the Gayatri mantra, combined with a sort of loving-kindness meditation. The effect on my mood was so uplifting that when I was done I immediately found my close friends nearby and gave them a group hug and told them how much I loved them and completely started tearing up with love.

If you’re not familiar with this beautiful mantra, it is a very special, sacred, and ancient chant. Look it up on Spotify or YouTube for an idea what it sounds like. The Sanskrit is as follows:

Om bhur bhuvah svaha

Tat savitur varenuam

Bhargo devasya dhimahi

Dhiyo yonah pratchodayat

Translated, it means:

We meditate on the luminous glory of the divine Sun; may the knowledge of the radiant one enlighten our understanding

With each incantation of the mantra, call a different person into your mind. Whoever comes to mind, it can be anyone you’ve interacted with. Visualize that person. Think about how much love you have for them, and how could you have more? What hardships are they going through and how can you send them positivity, compassion, empathy? If you’ve had difficulties with this person, how can you forgive them? How can you grow in your own self love and self awareness, from what you’ve learned from your relationship with them? What is one of the sweetest times you’ve shared? What do you wish for them? How can you be happy for their successes, and empathize in their sorrows?

Let it be a free-flow of consciousness from one person to the next. The four lines of the mantra allow time to reflect and really open up gates of love between you and each person you bring to mind. Some people may not even be close to you, others you may not have seen in such a long time. For me, it was not hard to call in 108 different souls who have touched me in some way or another.

When you’re done, sit in silence, noticing how you feel, keeping your focus soft and on your breath, feeling all of your physical and subtle body (koshas) radiant. I was able to practice this outdoors facing the soft winter morning sun and it was incredible.

When I was doing research about the Gayatri mantra to write this post, I came across this quote by spiritual teacher Sathya Sai about the mantra:

The Gayatri Mantra is a sacred chant that demonstrates the unity that underlies manifoldness in creation. It is through the recognition of this unity that we can understand the multiplicity. Clay is one and the same thing, though pots of different shapes and sizes can be made from it. Gold is one, though gold ornaments can be multifarious. The Atma is one, though the embodied forms in which it resides may be many. Whatever the colour of the cow, the milk is always white.

In referencing the sun, it is referencing the divine sun in each of us, as well as omniscient  and universal sun. At its core, yoga is unity. At our cores, we are all one with each other.

Maybe you’ll be inspired to practice a meditation like this after reading my post, if you do, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments!

"Botanically Inspired" Zazzle Store Launched

After publishing my Glittery Unicorns store on Zazzle last year, several people asked me if I’d put together something similar for my botanical illustrations. Well, it took a minute, but I finally got one together. It’s called Botanically Inspired, and will feature designs from my #100daysofpenandplant collection, which is a hashtag I’ve used to jumpstart my botanical illustration productivity on Instagram. A first round of products has been created just in time for the holiday season, and now I’ll be working to add more each week. I invite you to take a look at my collections, there’s some pretty cute and classy glassware in my Botany in the Kitchen collection, and some lovely jewelry in my Adorn Yourself collection.

Reflections on the Seva Retreat in Iztac, Mexico

Upon finishing my season at the Lassen, I had the opportunity to spend 12 days in Mexico, mostly at Iztac, a retreat center about 2 hours southeast of Mexico City. When I signed up, I didn’t have much of an idea what I was getting into. Mainly I decided to go because the timing worked out really well, it was affordable for me, and it was supporting a friend who was co-hosting the retreat. The brief description I read about it also sounded great: yoga in the mornings, natural building learning and service during the day, and workshops on music and dance in the evenings, and a healthy diet of whole foods.

Peering into the musical temple we contributed to building.

The magic that awaited me at Iztac was more than I could have ever expected. Arriving into this beautiful land, into a group of incredible people, I was instantly absolved of the feelings of missing community that had upwelled after living for the season in quite a bit of solitude, and I was launched into a creative space. Wendolyn’s morning yoga classes set the tone each day to be one filled with peace and light. Our meals were wholesome, healthy, creative.

We participated in evening workshops each day, taught by incredible instructors. Jaocobo taught percussion, Alejandro taught music and harmony, and Deva led international peace dances. Each of them were so engaging, and everything we did was appropriate for all age and ability levels.

The beautiful, inspiring, and creative co-hosts of the Seva Retreat

The other thing that stood out to me strikingly was the amount of intention that was poured into each aspect of the retreat. Not everything was perfect - sometimes we’d run out of an ingredient of food and have to improvise, or have many more people than expected for a meal and make things stretch; sometimes things would run very very very late (it’s Mexico!!); sometimes we wouldn’t have the perfect tool for a particular task in building the temple. But the level of depth that the organizers (Deva and Wendolyn) had put into thinking through creating a community experience of service for a greater cause overrode any of the things that didn’t work out perfectly. The conversations we had around the dinner table were so much more than skin deep. The friendships forged with the other participants were raw and real and I know that these people will be forever friends, albeit not close-in-proximity friends. Love in its purest form was at the center of activity. The beauty and magic of each of the performances that we participated in and witnessed will stay with me for a long time. Being introduced to International Peace Dances (which I’d never heard of before) opened up a whole new world for me and I hope to participate in them again whenever I am in a place where they are occurring.

Erica, with our waterfall guides, Mariot and Dario. These young people give me so much hope for the future.

A personal challenge I had was that while I was there I realized I had an injury (a small tear in my rotator cuff) which prevented me from participating in some of the natural building activities. Anyone who has suffered an injury understands the psychological toll it can take aside from the physical pain that manifests. It took a lot of humility to do my best to walk in grace and service even as I had to accept my inability to help with some of the natural building projects. Instead, I spent more time in the kitchen, embracing the opportunity to nourish the group of people that was working so hard building the temple. In this I learned, not only about food, but about myself, and more about accepting and being content with what is being given to me and what I can give.

Leaving Iztac I was full of inspiration to bring back into my ‘off-season’, and I plan to completely throw myself into all of my things in coming back: developing my botanical illustration portfolio and applying the best of them to products on a new Zazzle store, continuing to improve my photography and offer yoga photography shoots and seek outlets for my landscape images, giving to the beautiful Double Gum Tree Farm in Three Rivers, and to offer yoga workshops when/where I can and set aside some time to spend at an ashram again this year during my off-season, so that my personal and spiritual growth can continue.

My Experience with Ashtanga: An incredible practice for self-growth and purification

After my third day of Ashtanga during my yoga teacher training, I had a very clear feeling: it’s not for me. My first teacher training had been in the flowy and comparatively forgiving prana vinyasa, all done up in bhakti vibes, world music feels, and exploration of what feels good to you in your body.

Coming to the discipline of Ashtanga, well, I simply was not finding a lot of joy during the practice: the soreness in my muscles from the unforgiving number of vinyasas, the rigidity, the starkness in which our teacher would count down from five… four… three… two… two… two… two… having us hold asanas loooooong as he made slight adjustments in our postures…. Sometimes I felt like such a failure. So much was out of reach for me in some of the binds and advanced asanas (binds are difficult for my body, and there are quite a few in the primary series!). Never had I needed so much help from props. Our teacher threw in vinyasas not only between each seated posture but between each variation and between right and left sides. It was exhausting and I was humbled. 

Over the four weeks of the course through, a transformation began to happen. Naturally, my body grew stronger. I saw changes in my flexibility and agility getting into bendier asanas. My alignment improved dramatically. But, no, something more… I was actually starting to like this practice.

It is so physical that it truly takes you out of your mind, and I found it to be a beautifully meditative practice. Following the same sequence each day is an insight into where the body stands for that day, in that moment: a check-in. There is so much discipline and routine involved in it (true Ashtanga practitioners practice 6-days a week) and I think that since I am not naturally drawn to routine in life, it helps to ground me.

Coming home, I have found that many days my personal practice turns to Ashtanga. It is not the practice I do every day: I love that I’ve learned different styles and can choose to practice hatha, or vinyasa, or even restorative, deciding what my body and mind need in the moment. In my own home practice I’ll sometimes throw in related asanas that I love or am working on if I feel inclined. But a surprising percent of the time I find peace, inspiration, refuge, in Ashtanga.

This process of coming to love Ashtanga: the groundedness, the challenge, the rewards, and ultimately the development of a daily practice are why I am choosing to offer a series of foundational Ashtanga classes at Mountain Yoga Studio in Susanville through the end of October. We will take time in each class to focus in on a handful of asanas in particular, building each week so that by the end we cover the primary sequence. My goal is for students to walk away with what they need to develop and maintain their own home practice, one that they can take refuge in when it is not accessible to make it to class. Yoga is so much more than asana, and Ashtanga has a way of ripping open any blinders so that you can become that much closer to knowing your true self.

July Photo Specials in the Bay Area!

Adventure to the Lassen

Well, big changes happening. Rather than have a complete summer in Cedar Grove, an idyllic little place deep in Kings Canyon National Park, I’ll be spending the summer botanizing in northern California in Lassen National Forest. Sequoia/Kings will always be so dear to my heart and I will be a part of it and it will be a part of me always. I’m always so sad to leave where I am, because I nearly always love it, but then almost always fall in love again wherever I arrive.

The position is one of those elusive GS-9 field-based seasonal botany jobs. It is a perfect balance of decent pay and doing what I love, packaged into 1039 hours. Unbeknownst to me when I accepted the position, the main focus is surveys for threatened/endangered, sensitive, and special interest species! Because of the volcanic and serpentine soils, and the meeting of the Sierra and Cascade ranges and the Great Basin to the east, there is a great degree of endemism and diversity in the are. This is pretty much what I’ve always wanted in terms of a professional botany position… as soon as I gave up desire for any advancement this too came to me (thank you, India).

As I’ve never been at all to the Lassen area (other than driving by on I-5), it is a brand new adventure and another nook of wild open space and nature to explore. Being based in northeastern California means that the culture will be about as conservative as Nevada and practically as remote. Upon arriving, I’ve found that the bumps they call ‘mountains’ are mostly little rolling hills in comparison to what I was accustomed to in the southern Sierra, and that just as many storefronts are closed as are running businesses. But even in the week that I’ve been here, I recognize there are gems to appreciate in being here.  

I’m exceedingly grateful to have two friends help me shuttle my car and bus along the 8-hour drive to my new home for the summer. Simon and Rob erased any stress I may have had about the journey and it was a blast. I’d been prepared to either take a train or rent a car, but the White Whale (the current temporary name for my bus, credit goes to Major, until I one day come up with a better one. My last car didn’t get a name until 6 months before I sold it, after owning it for 10 years…), well, she seems to attract fans. Since that trip up here was so fun… I’m actually on my first ever weekend getaway with the bus… brought it up to Chester for a couple days. Cheers to more bus adventures, and exploring another piece of the world.

Wedding Photography with Jen and Elizabeth

In late April I had the honor to be the official photographer for the marriage of these two beautiful and amazing ladies, Jen Shelby and Elizabeth Renew. The wedding was held at River Ridge Ranch in Springville, nestled in the foothills of the southern Sierra Nevada. The grasses were still green, the oaks with fresh new leaves on them, and the moon was full. The spirit and energy of everyone in attendance was abundant love and kindness and radiant smiles. The brides were so fun to work with. Thank you both for inviting me to help capture this moment in your lives: you did it!!

There are a couple of things that are particularly touching to me about this event. The very morning after Jen reached out asking if I was available and interested in working with them, a little tragedy occurred with my camera while in India (see instagram post), emerging from the other end of it feeling that it was symbolically blessed, albeit only through completely letting go of my desire to be successful. The way things have been progressing with my photography work in the last 6 months as I have been taking steps to develop from a hobbyist to a business, it certainly feels that way.

It was very meaningful for me to shoot an LGBTQ wedding. Even as a lot of things are going through upheaval in our country and our world, at least progress has concretely happened in this issue in my lifetime. There is still a long way to go, from eliminating hate crimes to ending more minor but still damaging discrimination that happens regularly to LGBTQ couples and individuals. The opportunity to act as an ally and celebrate your love in these images means a lot. These two are a perfect match and to witness your joy on this day was incredible.

Yoga photography session with Sierra

Sierra is a dear friend who was one of the first people I did yoga with at Evergreen State College circa ~2004. I’d gone to some bikram classes before that in Seattle, but Sierra was certainly influential in introducing me to some classes that were happening in Olympia while I was a student. She has been on the path of yoga for a long time and is a certified yoga therapist based in Oakland, CA. She specializes in yoga for healing and also teaches partner yoga workshops.

Since she suffered a climbing injury to her ankle and has been unable to teach all of her classes as she recuperates, Sierra has been working on other aspects of her business: developing her website as well as coursework for new offerings. Because of this she was excited to create some new imagery to keep her social media and web presence fresh. What a great perspective she has in turning her injury into an opportunity to develop other parts of herself, and what an admirable level of vulnerability to get in front of the camera when she’s still working on her own healing. Since her specialization utilizes a lot of props and adjustments, she even used this as an opportunity to demonstrate her use of props, her commitment to her own practice, as well as her personal use of yoga in healing of her own self.

Sierra and I are going to coordinate a weekend for me to do a yoga photography intensive in the Bay Area coming up in late June or July. Stay tuned!

Reflections on India: Part I - Rishikesh and Yoga School

​While I meant to contribute to the blog more while I was actually in India, between technological difficulties, time priorities (the intensive training was just that: intensive!), and the internal processing of what was happening as it happened, it really wasn’t possible. Instead, here are a few reflections.

I will say that the entire experience was completely transformative in a billion ways I wasn’t looking for and didn’t expect. In a lot of ways I feel like a whole new person broke through my old shell, shedding through old skin like a snake and leaving it behind.

Lots of things in India were not comfortable. Sometimes I got irritated with people in my class, or about how things were going in the course. Sometimes the noise in the streets or adjacent to my hotel would grate on me. The continual dodging of scootys, rickshaws, jeeps, bulls, and salesmen hocking their goods in the streets. Never knowing the language. Not knowing how to get around.

But it is in this discomfort that there is growth. The people in my class were all amazing and gave me such beautiful lessons, both when we discussed the material and as I learned about them and their lives; much of my irritation was of my own insecurity or ego or other personal thing. No course is ever completely what one expects and it is best to lose one’s expectations anyway; ultimately, so much learning and embodiment of yoga happened. Even with calamity all around one can go inside to find peace: relating directly to withdrawal of the senses, or the pratyahara limb of yoga. In the midst of being in a place that is so comparatively crowded to the places I choose to live, one just can’t help but have a sense of wonder at the diversity of life that happens in each glance in the street. Because I couldn’t participate in Hindi conversations I had more chance to reside in my own mind; I also know that next time I travel it is really important to me to learn some basic phrases. And slowly, I learned how to get around. All of the discomforts are discomforts of the mind.

India is magic. Being there, there was such an incredible sense that everything is following a greater will. I have one story I posted about this on instagram, don’t feel like repeating it here, but you can take a read if you like: https://instagram.com/p/Bf6F_VUBy5m/

Everything that was initiated in my first teacher training was elevated and taken to a new level here. My personal practice grew like I never imagined. In my physical practice, there are several asanas that I can perform now that I had either never attempted or never been able to do before. Ashtanga felt like a cruel punishment during the first week but by the end I elected to do most or all of the connecting vinyasas. My alignment is significantly improved, and along with that, my cueing and adjustments in teaching.

The mantras we learned in this class were almost entirely different than those we sang in my first YTT; it was great to learn new material. The pranayamas I learned about this time in much greater depth. I came to love morning pranayama and chanting even more, and really enjoy doing it in a group, especially a group that is studying and learning together and sounds increasingly beautiful from the time we begin singing together until the end.

Learning yoga philosophy in a place where temples are embedded in the cities and the hillsides and tops of mountains, and where shrines and imagery of deities are as common as the cows on the streets, really takes it to a deeper meaning. Our teacher’s stories peppered in with the discussion of the theories gave everything an anchor, and his ability to respond to our questions gave provided relevance. Studying the sutras here penetrated my outer shell and got me to question so many things about myself, my outlook, the life I live, the path I’m on. A lot of acceptance and release came about long-term stories that make up my life.

Interestingly I felt my old samskaras (patterns) hit me as soon as I came home. Between jet lag and these old patterns associated with place, it was instantly harder to maintain the wonderful routine I’d created for my days. This period of readjustment to normal life is special and its important to integrate all these good and positive habits I’ve just gained… especially since I’ll be going to back to work soon, and once that happens it will be even more difficult. Sometimes it’s already so hard to even feed myself healthy food, bathe, and keep the house tidy when working a 10-hour day!

India rocked my core innumerable times: Each soft footstep in wonder through the Neem Karoli Baba temple (the guru of my first yoga teacher) on my first day in Rishikesh. Sitting cross-legged with the humble baba and his friend while they smoked bhang just outside of Rishikesh in his hut that was just long enough for him to sleep in. Dipping in the Ganga and feeling its rejuvenating waters. Standing at a 4,000 meter peak at sunrise overlooking 6-7000m peaks in the distance in a mountain range I’ve longed to know for so long but never expected to be in this year. A beggar kissed my hand when I handed him a banana.

India is full of little moments, big moments, beauty and sadness, but most of all, love.

Sinking into the Immersion

Three full days of yoga immersion program are now complete and I'm beginning to sink in to the cadence of things.

Chanting and pranayama begins at 6:30, followed by tea and then Ashtanga. I haven't done much Ashtanga before, and it is HARD! We've barely scratched the surface! I like the challenge of it but I don't see myself following that style of yoga much in the future as it is too rigid for me. For those who aren't familiar, there are 3 series, each progressively challenging, and you follow a set series of postures each time. It is unforgiving... no suggestions to 'walk out your dog' or flow into your first postures as you are warming up! I think that for now it is good training and our teacher breaks down each pose slowly, focusing on alignment and making adjustments.

After some self study time, 300 hour students have a yoga philosophy class with our teacher Siddhartha, who spent considerable time at the original ashram of Neem Karoli Baba. Coincidentally, Neem Karoli Baba is the guru of my American teacher, Monica Mesa, and at her suggestion I visited and had a very powerful experience at his other ashram here in Rishikesh on my first full day here. I'm hoping that the yoga philosophy sessions continue to be so helpful as this is where I seek to have such a better foundation of knowledge, especially from a traditional perspective.

After lunch we get an anatomy class, followed by a Hatha yoga class. The first class was pretty chill (and exactly what I needed!) but yesterdays was intense and today we started advanced poses... (being sore after a bunch of chataurangas didn't help)! After studying Prana Vinyasa style yoga, I fell in love with the movement and flow, but I now have a new appreciation for the subtlety and depth of a good Hatha class and it is really exciting to think about how my practice as well as my teaching style can expand and diversify. I also think about working with people with limitations due to injury or surgery and Hatha is better suited to accommodate people with many levels of ability and flexibility, and for yoga as a therapeutic tool.

After more self study time, we have dinner, then are free to go study more. Some people are taking long breaks to go to the river or go to the city during study time. I'm sure I will too once I get restless but right now it seems so valuable to make use of my time as much as I can. This is truly one of the greatest gifts I have ever given myself. I've never had the opportunity to study without worries or obligations; in college I always supported myself working and also had a million extracurricular activities too. It feels so indulgent, and I am so grateful to each puzzle piece of life that has allowed me to Be Here Now.

Introduction to Yoga Program and Fire Ceremony

After my first introductory day of my yoga program at the Chandra Yoga  School, Inamovible moré tan happy with my decisión to come héroe, and to have chosen this school. When this school was founded, there were only 14 schools of yoga in Rishikesh; now there are a couple hundred. While the instruction has not started, I can tell from how things were conducted in the first day that there is a high degree of professionalism, a great deal of knowledge, and high expectations for how we embody and integrate this experience into our lives as students.  Also, the food is good.

There are 12 of us students. We are from 4 continents, and many countries. There are the two Beatrices (best friends, same age) from Sweden, a young German couple, Helena and Toby, who are studying textile design and geology, Laley, an aerial silk dancer from Mallorca, Spain. A couple who teach acroyoga in Indonesia, Julia is a lawyer by day and Alex is originally from Ukraine. Saren from Singapore who has Indian heritage, Claudia from Peru who has studied in Prague and worked three winters in Aspen, Colorado. There are two other Americans: Joseph is a music teacher in Michigan, Leslie is a body worker from Colorado. And me. The collective energy as we gathered for the first time was very positive, easygoing. It promises to be a good group. 

We gathered sitting cross-legged around the meal table and a a great spread of Indian lunch: rice, okra, a potato and pepper dish, yogurt, daal, some raw vegetables, chapatti, and tea. We met our hosts, and then they took us to another ashram on the other side of town which is currently under construction. 

After a quick tour of the building being constructed, we had a fire ceremony to initiate our time together as students and to call in the deities bless our practice. A Hindu priest led us chanting Sanskrit, reading out of pages of a torn and battered book scarred from countless ceremonies around a fire. Garlands of marigold flowers were draped around our necks by Kali, a teacher at the school. We symbolically cleansed our hands and our inner bodies with water, and then repeatedly offered a collection of earth, herbs, incense onto the marigold-ringed fire as the school's leader, Sushil, poured ghee and small portions of food offerings into the flames. This represents giving nourishment to the deities; as they have no physical bodies, the way they take in the offerings is through the smoke. While there was a lightness to the energy of the ceremony, and laughter was allowed, you could feel a definite vibrational shift from the beginning to the end of the ceremony. 

Afterwards, we walked around the land surrounding the ashram, which is a national park where elephants, tigers, buffalo, cows, and all sorts of other creatures roam. It is a beautiful landscape and I was more than grateful to be out of the the city bustle and surrounded by the lush greenery of the countryside. As we drove back some sort of small peacock took flight in front of is which was the most beautiful sight.

Snacks of samosas and sweet honey balls were served back at the main facility and that's when we got an outline of our coursework. There are just me and two others who are doing the more advanced 300-hour training, the rest are completing a 200-hour course. For everything, it was like this: "for 200 hours, you will learn 2 mantras a week, for 300 hours, you will learn 3. For 200 hours, you will do all of these uncomfortable practices like snort a string up your nostril and exit it down your throat, for 300 hours you will do all that plus stick a pipe down your throat and pump water out of your stomach." I am sure my colon will be so cleansed by the end of this (Sushil said we won't have any gas problems for the following 6 months! 😉), but these things evoke the most resistance in me. Overall though, it looks intense and I am elated to begin learning. 

The alter, covered in marigold flowers

INDIA! - my first 12 hours

Every traveler I know who has been to India has told me it is a whole other world, an assault on the senses, that it will blow your mind, no matter how many other places you have been. And it is true.

I don't even know how to start my first impressions because there are so many and they are constantly forming and shifting and shaping. First off, there are about 10 billion things happening in each and every moment and every side wards glance you take gives you a glimpse into a whole new world. There is culture and tradition, there is beauty. There is poverty, deep spirituality, love. The food is everywhere and amazing, the blaring horns are incessant for 12 hours a day in the cities. It is overwhelming but not too overwhelming to enjoy but so much so that it is nearly impossible to process before you are presented with something new. In the 2 days I have been here I feel I've had 2 months of experiences. As my neighbor on my flight said, if you are super Type A and need to control things, you will have a harder time enjoying yourself in India, whereas if you can go with the flow, you may just love it.

Let's start with my taxi ride. Hands down weirdest taxi ride ever. I'm not sure exactly at this point where the mix up happened, but the taxi driver with my name on the sign was not there at Exit Door 6 when I arrived. Typically I'm a pretty intrepid and DIY traveller but I didn't want to mess around with anything after 30+ hours of travel, terrible sleep, and landing in a massive city where I don't speak the language or know much about navigating my way around. I knew I wanted to get straight out of Delhi, and not be ripped off or have my safety in peril by a swarthy taxi driver. But, the best laid plans flew away on my flight out of LA, and I was stranded at the airport at 8:30pm, not terribly late, but after dark with no arranged accommodations in the city.

I remember my very first solo overseas trip when I was 22 and arrived in Frankfort and it took me an hour to get out of the airport because I didn't understand the signs that directed me to the public transit I needed, finally collapsing and crying and questioning wtf I was doing to travel solo, before I found my way. Somehow this time, amidst the chaos surrounding me with a thousand other passengers milling around reuniting with friends and family, taxis soliciting me, in my solitude I was able to stay calm. I needed the Internet, to get the phone number of my yoga program, found a man operating a pay telephone, and worked it out.

Nitin, the taxi driver, arrived about an hour later, and we navigated the absolutely insane streets of Delhi. I sat up front, as during the typically 5-7 hour taxi ride to Rishikesh it seemed rude to just sit in the back. This also gave me a front row seat to the most truly indescribably insane driving I have ever experienced, and I've traveled all over Latin America which has its own reputation for terrible driving. There was a little screen playing music videos to Indian pop songs that entranced me and was a good distraction when I needed to take my eyes off of the swerving and near misses left and right. We talked a little, but his English was limited. He talked loudly into his cell phone. I drifted in and out of sleep. 

Then, things got weird. He pulled over to the side of the road. "I have to pick up my friend, that's okay?" This is one of those things that is typically NOT ok. That is when you get kidnapped, raped, robbed, killed. These are the scams you read about. What choice did I have then though? Nitin had seemed nice, sweet, a soft kind face, young. By this time it was after 10pm and we were in who knows what part of the city. My program had hired the taxi for me so it should be a reputable service, right? I had to trust in that moment. 

"It's ok."

We drove around with this guy in the back for what seemed like forever, I was still drifting into half sleep; though in the moments I was awake, hyper aware. Then we were on some side street, backing into an alleyway. "I have to pick up something for my friend here." They got out, opened the trunk. My backpack was in there. Only possession in it I cared about was my Sony alpha camera with my literally brand new lens. Oh well. Backpack was the least I was worried about in the moment, keeping an eye on the men in the rear view mirror. They loaded in several small boxes. The friend got back in, we drove all around in the still-congested city streets until we dropped him off. "You ok?"

"I'm ok."

We drive, finally leaving the city. At this point it is nearing midnight. We stop at a cafe, got some tea. My first tea in India. It was delicious. I was ready to just go, but thought that if my driver was needing caffeine and a bathroom break, I was ok with that. Surrender to the experience, I told myself. He bought some chocolate, giving it to me in the car. "It's chocolate day!" he says enthusiastically. The last thing I wanted was chocolate right then but I opened one and shared it to be cordial. We talked some more about our families and our lives with the little English he had. I began to drift in and out of sleep again as the traffic and lights and chaos of the city slipped away and we proceeded through smaller towns and countrysides. 

I woke as he pulled the car over next to a building (a hotel perhaps?) at 2:30 in the morning. "Sorry, I need some rest." I could tell he was tiring because the aggressiveness of his driving had slowed and the other traffic was passing us, the music was softer, he wasn't talking. "It's ok?" What were my choices? We still had a few hours to go and I didn't want him falling asleep at the wheel.

"It's ok."

He leaned his seat back and closed his eyes. I did the same, but did not feel very restful. I curled away from him facing the door. He was a little restless. In his restlessness I felt him, at first for a brief moment, and then his forearm against my back, or hand just touching my hair. Somehow at 37, even though I am more guarded, I am still naive. 'He's tall and lanky trying to get comfortable in the cramped car, doesn't mean it, it's an accident.' A million of these things I was telling myself, at the same time thinking just how weird it was to be taking a rest stop in the middle of the night with my taxi driver. As I started to feel him I was also beginning to come up with an exit strategy in case things escalated. At this point it was truly the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere. If things got weird, how would I diffuse the situation, and still stay safe and keep my belongings which were locked in the back of the trunk?

Sure enough, he slipped his hand a little too high on my thigh for it to be an accident and at that point I looked over, and shook my head: "no". He started shaking his head too. "Have you had enough rest? Can we go?" He covered his face with his hands, leaving them there for what felt like an eternity. "Yes, we can go." But he didn't move. Then he reached out and took my hand and told me he loved me, that he needed love. It sounds so stupid to describe but in the moment his face and his eyes were so sincere, and every vision from Shantaram and Eat, Pray, Love came to me about how India is the country of love and of heart and suddenly tears were in my eyes too. He held my hand between both of his and looked me in the eyes with such sincerity that I didn't know what to do. Really, I just wanted to go, but his words were heartfelt. "I am not a rich man, but I am a man that has so much love in my heart, I want to share it with you. You love me too?"

Bizarre. 

"I like you, you seem sweet. I don't love you."

"Maybe one day you will love me? You are beautiful, my feelings are so strong, you are my jaan (life)..."

The wrong answer felt like it could get me left on the side of the road in the darkness, but I'm not a good liar. "It takes me a long time for me to love," I told him.

Finally we were able to continue. He took my hand and held it much of the rest of the way and navigated the morning traffic in his stick shift toyota one handed. We stopped for tea again as the morning light dawned over my first views of India. I saw a fox, eagle, monkeys, temples, and hundreds of men and women walking in pilgrimage to Haridwar carrying water vessels attached to a decorated stick that they carry over their shoulder to collect water from the ahold Ganges River for the upcoming festival to Shiva. 

It was solidly morning by the time we got to Rishikesh. Our first top there was at the home of the man who we had picked up in Delhi. The boxes were dropped off there. The man invited us in for tea, but I turned him down, the taxi that should have been 5-7 hours was now a full 10 hour ride, on top of all the other travel. And the Nitin was fully convinced he loved me in those 10 hours despite lack of any depth of conversation. I was ready to decompress on my own.

I finally did make it to my accommodations, safe, sound, and ready to begin the next step of my adventures in India.