Peaks and Valleys of Week Three

When the kids were little we had a family tradition of sharing at dinner time the highs and lows from our day (on occasion we still enact this tradition). Regardless of what sort of day we had (boring, great or horrific) there are always standout moments that could be found that are “higher” or “lower” that the rest. This week my highs and lows feel a bit like the Himalayas (as in drastic) only I’m a “bit” south.

My top highlight was getting myself in to my first ever full backbend/camel, hands and feet on the ground. I’ve been trying to do that for years. The class cheered. (see pic of inside of yoga hall – its quite beautiful with the morning sunrise while we do sun salutations) Outside of that……

I find myself both skipping happily to class, and then dragging myself in such a way that I don’t think I can make the stairs. I whistle one morning, and hang my head under the faucet and hope the day goes away on another. I cried when I finished the novel I brought along and realized I now have no mode of escape, so I have turned to the Beatles and they have pulled me through some of the tougher moments!

I’m sick to DEATH of the ayurvedic medicines I take multiple times throughout the day (see pic – YUCK) and am seriously considering quitting them. One of them is for weight loss and I weigh EXACTLY what I weighed when I arrived! I don’t understand how that is possible when there is no bread, pasta, cheese, ice cream, latte or butter to be found (my primary weaknesses/diet back at home). All we eat is fruit, soups, veggies and a limited amount of rice-made things, and I’ve never physically worked so hard at anything in my life. Seriously! WTF!!!!

Another highlight is the men who serve us our meals and generally take care of us (see pic), Mohan and Chiggon. They do make me smile, and Mohan has taken to calling me Kim Baby. It feels like such a sweet term of endearment and reminds me how we could never use a term like that in the States without feeling “hit on” or somehow offended at a lack of respect-here it just feels loving. They keep me laughing and keep it undercover when I’m feeling my lowest.

Our classes continue to be the source of occasional inspiration and interesting conversation. Suntil, our theory teacher, told us about a 24 hour "peace radio" that is produced by Indian Muslims. This week there was a program specifically on peace within differing cultures and religions, with the Hindu/Muslim relationship being the primary focus. It was said that "religious tolerance" is no longer good enough, it is now time to move into "love and acceptance" instead. The word "tolerance" implies that I will "tolerate" or "put up" with our differences, but that the only real way to have peace is to not "tolerate" one another, but to embrace, love and accept one another. Love that!

One thing I miss here is physical touch. There are no all-night snuggles with Rowan, Sunday dance or friends to snuggle with to fulfill that life-giving requirement. Born out of my desperation for a little physical contact I went to a beauty parlor and asked to have my hair cut just to have someone touch my head and hair. I’m not so sure it was a good choice (no picture included), but it was a fun experience. It was immediately evident that the only thing that made the lady in the shop a hairstylist was the fact that she had scissors. Her name was Privi (?) and insisted on parting my hair down the middle and flattening it to my head as is the popular look for India woman, but I looked ridiculous! When I, instead, wet my hair, turned my head upside down, moved the part to the side and fluffed it as big and curly as it would get all the women in the parlor laughed hysterically. There was little/no English in the room, but there was a definite understanding of woman-speak. They invited me back (I think) for a facial next week, I think I’ll take them up on that.

On another down note, yesterday (Friday) was my hardest day yet. I began the day not feeling my best with overwhelming emotions seeming to come out of nowhere (not to mention feeling pre-menstrual). Ganesh, our yoga teacher, says tears are toxins leaving our body and that I should go cry more.

Our yogic assignment for the morning was a purification kriya called Dhouti or Vamana, which is purification through vomiting! I was near tears and shaking when I arrived at the class, towel in hand as instructed (I really hate vomiting!). Our teacher began by demonstrating for us. It was when he looked up at us, mid-vomit, with eyes red and tearing, mucous and water running from his nose and mouth, and in a strained mid-vomit Indian accent said, “this is very good, it clears mucous from nose and chest, empties body of impurities” that my real panic began. We were then given our own chairs, buckets and pots of warm salt water (for chugging) and required to do the same, all together. Somewhere mid-vomit, while trembling from head to toe and trying not to cry for fear I might hit hysteria, one of my more verbose class mates began to chatter to no one in particular about “feeling complete” with his vomit which inspired me to yell, “SHUT UP!”. (I was proud of myself for leaving out my favorite expletive) I didn't think much about it in the moment, I only realized later it would require an apology. What I didn’t expect was the drama/trauma it would cause. He was, later, quite angry, but that's an entirely different story.

As we exited the class our instructor said, “dhouti also known to cause emotion to leave body, there may be much crying.” This, of course, caused me to burst into tears, I didn’t stop till this morning. After a full day of sobbing, a magical God-filled solo teary-eyed hike to the top of a mountain, an adrenaline rush when cornered, alone, by a pack of dogs and rescued by children and a school bus, a rather uncomfortable “clearing” between my classmate and I, and a good nights sleep (where I dreamed all night of Lisa, Lauren and our menstrual cycles!) things seems to be smoothed out between us, and my tears aren’t quite on the surface like they were. Hopefully no one will try and console me too soon or I’m sure to be in tears again. Is it possible there could be more toxins trying to escape? (Joy, don’t answer that).

PS I don't know why, but today the internet wont let me post photos - I'll try and add them later.