Sea Change: on leaving East Timor, growing up, and welcoming the new year

Dearest readers, 2012 is drawing to a close. The world didn't end and the solstice has passed, so in solar terms, a new year has already begun. Many have been saying that 2012 marks the end of an era of humanity, and the dawn of a new one. For me, 2013 is certainly going to bring about some major changes.

On December 31st, I am leaving East Timor, my adoptive home for most of the past 8 1/2 years. It's hard for me to begin to write about the significance of this to me. I came to this half island nation when I was just 23 and I am leaving now, 31 years old. How to sum up the changes that take place during a quarter life? In this place I found friendships that transcend all boundaries and will last a lifetime, loved and lost a soulmate, and through this loss learned the meaning of fleeting pure happiness. I have climbed mountains in the sunrise, heard the Old Magic humming, swum with whales and dolphins, dived with a dugong, four-wheel-driven up a rocky escarpment with a flat tire, camped on beaches under the stars, slipped into a career and become a yoga teacher.

I have held babies just born and witnessed the death of a child; I have sat on the floor listening to gunfire while a teenager sobbed with terror, spilling stories of past horrors that he witnessed as a boy. I have been displaced from my home and returned to find it looted, but while others ended up in a tented camp, I still had a roof over my head. I have learned time and time again what it is to be privileged: a well-fed, well-educated testament to the top tier of the geographic and social birth lottery into which probably everyone reading this blog is also born, free to choose my own destiny, to make my own choices, to have any job I choose, to marry and have children if I choose, and only if I choose. I have been constantly humbled by the everyday hardships of the other 80% of the world's population, by the barefooted men who walk miles over the mountains, by the women who bear their babies year in and year out, by the children whose lives are more work than play and who go to bed hungry every night of their lives.  I have seen the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets of my life, felt peace in the midst of chaos, found love amidst the woodsmoke and the flowers.

In essence, I grew up, here in the hot, humid air. Like a migratory bird, I landed in this place to shed the awkward feathers of a fledgling and grow a pair of wings. And now it is time to fly - away from this land I have lived in but that could never be my home, leaving behind great chunks of myself that have bled into the earth, the sea, the sand and the sky. A part of me forever to remain here; a part of here forever to remain with me.

There are no words for these sea-changes, these great transformations. Most of us mark them with life's big events; my tribe, the global nomads, we mark them with entry visas and exit stamps.

So where to next, dear readers? Well, for a little while, I will be returning to Canada, the country of my birth. Living a mere 600 kilometres (400 miles) from my birthplace - the closest I have lived since I was 8 years old! For the next few months you will find me nestled in the mountains in Whistler, British Colombia, soaking up the cold, the snow, and the crisp clean air. From the tropics to a Canadian winter, from the sea to the mountains, from one of the poorest countries to one of the richest, it is harder to imagine a bigger contrast, and I am reminded that in my nature I gravitate towards extremes.

Everything changes and yet nothing changes, dear readers, and I will still be blogging here, about yoga (a lot) and life (a little bit), and probably about skiing, and snow, and the dislocation that only a returning expat knows. About a homecoming to a place that is no longer home, about an affluent society unseeing of its own good fortune. I am trying to go without expectations, but of course that is impossible, so I hope to study and teach yoga, to reignite my practice in the chilly air of winter, to reconnect with old friends and the land of my birth, and to keep blogging about all of this, the yoga of life.

As always, if you're reading this, I am both humbled and honoured that you have taken the time to do so. Happy new year, readers - what changes, big or small, will 2013 bring for you?

Forget your perfect offering

I was going to write a post today, but instead I offer you a link to a beautiful post by the lovely Michelle Myhre, about the hindu goddess Akhilandeshvara (Ah-KEEL-An-Desh-Vara), also known as "She Who Is Never Not Broken".

As I said in my comment on Michelle's post, this is a beautiful metaphor and a reminder that to be alive is to be able to feel, and to be able to feel is the greatest gift of the human heart.

Every time my heart breaks (which is pretty much every other day - especially living in a place like East Timor where I am constantly reminded of how hard life is for most of the people in this world) I also feel gratitude that I am able to feel love and compassion. In Western society so many of our emotions are sanitised - we don't have a cultural, familial or personal space to deal with pain, grief, compassion, or sorrow, and we are constantly told to shut  up, shut it out or "get over" it.

This speaks to me of embracing the heart's ability to suffer, because it is that ability which also allows us to love.  In my line of work (development & humanitarian aid), but also in every day life, that vulnerability is critical, because it is what keeps us human in the face of the injustice of the world.

I have also borrowed the photo from Michelle's post - isn't it incredible?  It reminds me of that famous Leonard Cohen line: "forget your perfect offering / there is a crack in everything / that's how the light gets in".

Asana and I: A love story

Being sick recently with dengue fever has meant that for the last month my asana practice has been completely modified. Stepping to my mat on Day 10 after getting the fever (2 days after leaving bed for the first time!) I couldn't believe how weakened my body was from the illness. So it has been short, gentle practices for me, focusing on stretching out the muscles that were cramped up by the fever. In addition, mornings have been tough now that I'm back at work, so I have been putting in play my 10-minute sequences!
 

Being unable to do asana has made me reflect on the dominance that it plays in my yogic life, and how that has changed over the years. See, I have gone through times when asana has dominated my waking moments, and not necessarily in a healthy way. I have gone through times when I didn't practice at all, preferring other forms of physical exercise instead. And I have gone through times like now, when I can enjoy my asana practice in balance with the other elements of my life.

If I could map out some stereotypical stages of relationship to yoga-asana, it might look like this:

1. Flirtation: You first meet, and you feel a spark. For a while, you keep your distance – doing a bit of reconnaissance, and research. You attend a few classes, the spark nurtures a flame and your attraction grows...
2. Dating and Romance: Before you know it, you are dating. In fact, you are more than dating – you can't get enough! Your friends notice a change in you... You are giddy and all you can talk about is yoga this, and yoga that, and how great yoga is and how much you looooove yoga...
3. Obsession/compulsion: And sure enough, it's not long until you barely even see said friends anymore, because all you ever do is yoga! You eat, breathe and sleep yoga, you check all the yoga books out of the library, you spend hours locked in your room trying impossible yoga poses. Your wobbly knee in Warrior II can reduce you to tears, and the last time you had to take child's pose you held it against yourself for a week. At the same time, you can feel deep shifts happening within, in places you'd rather not go, in realms that are dark and scary...
4. The breakup: And so, you decide you need to take a break. After all, haven't you always wanted to take up long-distance running? Why not start now! At first you enjoy the free time. You reconnect with your friends and have a few drinks and laugh about how you are so over that yoga thing. But after a while, you start to miss it. You see someone on the street with a yoga mat, and your heart leaps while your tummy lurches.
5. The make-up: And so eventually you steel yourself, you swallow your pride, and you humbly go back and offer yourself up to the practice. It feels so right, it feels so good! And here, you may take one of two roads... Maybe you will head straight back to Step 3 and repeat Steps 3, 4 and 5 over and over again... But just maybe you will pass go and progress to...
6. Going steady: Yep, you and yoga are here to stay, and you have all the characteristics of a good relationship. Yoga complements you without dominating your life. You recognize that you will have good days and bad days, and you don't judge the relationship based on that. You acknowledge that you need to have other hobbies and social time for the other relationships in your life. Instead of brining out the worst in you, yoga brings out your best side, and opens up a place for you to grow and confront your fears. You don't feel judged, criticized or insecure – you feel just fine where you are, thanks, and you are enjoying the journey.

And so, folks, I'm happy to report that I am feeling very Stage 6ish at the moment! I am slowly building back my strength and do look forward to getting back to my former level. But I also feel more balanced about my asana practice than I have been in a while. I am happy with where I am and the progress I have made till now. I am content with my pre-illness 45-50 minute morning practices before work, and not beating myself up for not doing Primary (Ashtanga series) 6 days a week. If I need extra sleep and my morning practice is only 10 minutes, well, I am happy with that, too.

What about you folks? Does any of this sound familiar? What has your relationship to asana been like?

A little link love

I heart our yoga blog community.  Really.  Maybe because I am somewhat starved for company of people who are as obsessed with yoga as I am.  Obsessed? Me? Ummm, yes.  I mean, I keep a blog about yoga.

But then again, so do many of you! :)  Hearts all around.

Anyway here are some posts and blogs that I have recently discovered or recently been enjoying:

• Bab's Babble: There was a lovely post today called "I heart Yoga Because" - so inspirational, it inspired me to heart you all in this post. ;)
• Moving Meditation: Tiffany started blogging this year and I've been enjoying her insights on being a new yoga teacher, and her life in Denver!  For starters, check out this lovely post: "Things I would like to say to my beginner students".  If only all teachers would say these things!!
• Mama Inspired: Juliana is a 'real' writer - and it shows! She writes beautifully about things she is passionate, including her childhood in Brazil and coming to America, her lovely daughter Luna, as well as recently ranting about the future of higher education!
• Foolish Enthusiasm: Alex recently commented on my blog so I checked his out!  He's currently training as a yoga teacher and it's great to hear a voice from the other side of the gender line. ;)  Being not-very-new-media-savvy I have yet to figure out how to comment on his blog... So if anyone has any hints, let me know!
• Svasti: A Journey From Assault To Wholeness: Svasti's blog is huge, complex, honest, fascinating, moving and impossible to take in all at once.  At the moment I'm enjoying her posts sharing her experience about Shadow Yoga - pretty intense, cool stuff.
• Namaste_Heather - Heather is back!  :) :)  That makes me joyful in itself, and then she wrote this lovely post about Effort and Ease, such an important synergy in Yoga (and life!), and one I have been trying to work into my classes since reading it.

Happy Friday everyone!