Friendship in reflection #reverb10

Tags

Friendship, hummus recipe, Sevapuri, Twitter, Yoga, Yoga In Daily Life, yoga teaching

Friendship. How has a friend changed you or your perspective on the world this year? Was this change gradual, or a sudden burst?
~ December 16 prompt

Fact: Twitter has a funny habit of enhancing my life.

I know a lot of people say that social media is really more about isolation than bringing people together, but in my case that’s not true. For all those social media-based friends I haven’t met (yet), I’ve a growing list of people I have managed to catch up with.

Right now it’s a short list but it includes Catatonic Kid, Shiv, Nadine, Kerry, Sevapuri, and Desert Book Chick. Plus others I know more specifically from Twitter only. In the near future, I hope to also meet Beckmayyogi, Rachel (on her 2011 tour of Australia), and maybe even Linda-Sama (more about that very soon in another post!).

The honour of this post however, goes to the wonderful and generous Sevapuri. He’s a yoga teacher for Yoga in Daily Life (YIDL) in Sydney and from what I can tell, he’s leading the social media charge for YIDL in Australia!

We initially connected via Twitter after a couple of tweets about the hummus recipe I use, something I picked up at a YIDL cooking workshop a few years ago.

Sevapuri noticed my tweet, and we’ve been Twitter friends ever since. Then, he was planning a trip to Melbourne for some training and suggested we meet up. Through the cold wintery night I navigated unfamiliar trams to make it to our meeting spot, and over a very tasty Indian meal we became fast friends in real life as well! Recently, he and his lovely wife were back in town for a yoga retreat and we met up again.

The way he’s changed my life and perspective on the world this year is by suggesting me to the Melbourne YIDL school as a substitute yoga teacher. This came at a time when I was still quite doubtful about my teaching skills and experience. He said many supportive and encouraging words, and put me in touch with the yogis who run the school down here.

After a meeting with them and a couple of classes to see how they teach, I found myself being asked to teach a class there a few weeks later. It went so incredibly well, and I was elated! It was the first class I’d taught where I felt like I was coming into my own as a teacher.

Then instead of having anything to do with the madness of horse racing in early November, I went to a half-day retreat at Melbourne YIDL. A bit of yoga, meditation and a vegetarian feast! I can’t tell you how much I love the people and the vibe there – they are definitely my kind of yogis.

Shortly afterwards I received an email asking me if I’d be interested in a permanent teaching gig one night a week from February 2011. But before we settled on the details, I was asked to come in and teach another class that one of their head teachers could sit in on. Just to make sure we were all on the same page.

At the end of the class the head teacher said to the students: Svasti will be teaching a beginner yoga class here next year, and I might’ve done a little internal flip-flop of joy.

It’s hard to believe that all of this came about because I sent a tweet or two about a humms recipe, which led to an interstate yogi friendship, which landed me a regular teaching job! But even more so, it was the practical support of an experienced yoga teacher for a fledgling one that was so important to me.

Sevapuri, this one’s for you because you really did give me a hand up when I needed a shot of confidence. Many blessings to you my friend!

~Svasti xo

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Oceans of Milk

Tags

changing of the guard, Friendship, Intimacy, iron-clad cloak, non-dualism, oceans of milk, PTSD, reticence, Samudra manthan, summer solstice, white rabbit, Yoga

Such a strange weekend, the one that’s just said its farewells with the typical indolence of the underappreciated and often harried. Even marginally less busy than most others in recent months, still I felt its melodramatic sigh as I scurried towards this morning’s tram.

I can sense the tenseness and tentativeness, and a knowing that right now is almost the end of a number of things. But it’s also almost the birth of others. It’s another one of those sandhis, and yet there’s no lapse in activity this time. Rather, everything is swiftly accelerating.

So it seems it’ll just be all go-go-go while the changing of the guard occurs… it’s a churning (once again) as the solstice draws near, marking the slow death of the sun. Which is nothing more than a re-birth in disguise, is it not?

Been reading a bit more about the life of Swamiji, courtesy of @SatyanandaYoga – here’s a handful of interesting posts:

• Childhood Years
• The Discipleship Years under Swami Sivanananda
• The Parivrajaka Years: Wandering Mendicant
• Swami Satyananda: The Mission

I was especially struck by a paragraph from The Parivrajaka Years (third link):

…Once he was roaming about in a town which he had never visited before. Feeling tired and hungry, he approached the shopkeeper of a large shop and said, “Hari Om.” The shopkeeper replied, “Go away. Find someone else to feed you. Young man begging, have you no shame? Learn to work.” His devotees would be very upset to hear about such treatment, but Swamiji, being unmoved by both praise and blame, would just laugh…

I pray for that state of attainment. That view of the world where neither praise nor blame is important. Where non-duality isn’t just a concept, but a permanent way of being in the world.

For now it’s like speckles of sunlight through the trees – present, but not my moment-to-moment experience. Not yet, anyway. Not until I walk out into the sunlight, eventually, when I find the way…

I bring this up because I’m having to contend (yes, I know, it sounds like the wrong word, isn’t it?) with someone seeking out my company in a way I’m not really used to anymore.

I’m not talking about romance here. Just a person being friendly. Wanting to get to know me. Alright, full disclosure: a person of the opposite gender. And that, well… it is still very much a struggle for me.

It’s been four years since I was assaulted, and now I’m pretty darn functional in most ways. I’m doing very well, even if I say so myself. Especially this year, which has included some of my worst lows, as well as this ever-present and miraculous path of opening.

But it bugs me sometimes that I’m able to meditate and do yoga, and study wonderful books on various yogic topics, and get the whole non-duality thing and even have some experience of what that’s like… and then sometimes I’m still like a frightened rabbit around strange men.

Because right now, I still see difference instead of non-difference.

Probably it’s because I haven’t practiced that whole letting people in thing too much. Mostly, I haven’t had to. But then when I have, it hasn’t really worked out too well.

Mostly I’ve lived like a monk – no contact, not even trying. There were three exceptions to that rule, and none of them were good. There’s also been the odd platonic friend or two that I trusted, but later discovered they weren’t the best ideas I’ve ever had. My view in this respect has been heavily compromised.

Okay, there have been a couple of good eggs – others like me, finding their way out as best they can. And they are still people I count on (they know who they are!!). Thank goodness for them! But they’re kinda different, because they’re in the same boat.

So in response, I’ve grown this reticence – not allowing people to get too close – especially men. It was very necessary for me, to survive living with PTSD. I had to create boundaries, as much to keep myself in one piece as to keep others at bay.

But I don’t need that iron-clad cloak any more. Yet it won’t be shrugged off as easily as that!

So when on Saturday afternoon, the proprietor of my favourite local cafe came over for a chat… it was a bit dicey for a moment there. I mean, it took me at least three weeks of brunch every weekend before I’d look him in the eye as I paid my bill. This, despite absolutely loving the food, music, the way the place is decorated and so on… it’s still not easy for me to be more than polite to a complete stranger of the male persuasion.

There’s a fear that arises when someone reaches out. It’s not rational. It doesn’t even relate to what happened the night I was assaulted.

And this is strange for me, because I am fierce and brave in almost all aspects of my life. But not in this way.

Once the afternoon trade slowed, he sat down next to me for a chat. I froze for a moment. But then one of his mates arrived, and suddenly I was invited to join them for a beer. And what a beer – White Rabbit – a sumptuous local dark ale. Followed by a Czech beer with a distinct honey-ish after-taste (mmmm!).

And we were talking, swapping stories and learning things about each other. And not because he was trying to hit on me. He is just a genuinely nice man, who was busy explaining the passion and magic that goes into creating his cafe and why he does what he does.

He seems to like me. As a person to hang out with. He doesn’t want anything from me, but to get to know one of his loyal customers and be on friendly terms. I suspect the drinks would’ve kept on flowing if I’d stayed. I turned down a third as it was!

I feel welcome at his establishment. I feel liked and appreciated beyond the money I spend eating the divine food that emanates from his kitchen.

And that is strange to me. And I get that it’s strange for it to feel strange. It shouldn’t feel strange when someone offers genuine friendliness, should it?

Then I read how Swamiji laughed at the shopkeeper who berated him for being a wandering sadhu. I get that the limitations of a person’s view can keep them in a place of judgement on others. Like mine have.

My (sub-conscious) judgement has been that men are not safe or honest and I can’t trust them (all good reasons to keep them at arms length). Which is quite unfair, of course. And a rather exaggerated response to the many resulting from the actions of just one.

But I see how my view of friendly relations has collapsed, where a line of innocent questions have in the past, led to terror. Structurally this view has no integrity, that is clear.

And there are demands for change and they want to be heard.

So I didn’t run. Instead, I took several deep breaths and I laughed at myself for feeling out of place in this spontaneous moment of camaraderie.

And enjoyed the sunshine and the beer.

~Svasti

Thinking of you…

Tags

Acceptance, Blogosphere, Community, Friendship, Group hug, Hermit, Love, Pain, Support

In my ever-growing bloggy network, I’m amazed by the range and number of people that I find – or who find me.

Who knows if in person, we’d be friends? But here, where we share so much of ourselves… in an environment that should by all rights, be cold and impersonal (and is anything but)… where I share things that matter and/or pain me the most… I’ve found a number of wonderful friends.

Unfortunately, there’s been a bit of a disturbance in the force, so to speak.

By that I mean, a number of my blog friends are having a something of a hard time right now. Quite a few, actually.

So this post is a little shout out love to some of the peeps I read regularly – who are currently in dire straits. All of the following could do with a little cheering on from the sidelines.

(If you feel so inclined, leave a message of support on their blogs. I know they’ll appreciate it.)

Clinically Clueless – otherwise known as ‘CC’ – recently had herself admitted to hospital for treatment as she hasn’t been doing so well. CC has survived so much, and she’s still fighting hard.

Tricia – here’s another woman who’s been through the wringer a few times. She recently posted a laundry list of the trauma she’s been through in her life. I’m sure its not all of it from what I know about her already. But its more than one person should bear.

Dano – lately she’s been struggling a little. But I’m very proud that her art will be included in an exhibition in her local area. Hopefully she posts some pictures!

Chunks of Reality – she’s had a lot of trouble just getting out of bed lately, and has recently gone for a job interview that sounds really great. Good luck, Chunks!

Michelle Tackaberry – aint feeling so hot about her messed up school schedule. There are other paths though, and I’m sure something will turn up soon to help you on the way to writing that book you’d like to finish!

Jaliya – who also had herself admitted to hospital to combat her depression and PTSD in recent times. She’s got internet access there, so she’s still posting occaisionally.

Immi – it wasn’t enough to be dealing with mental health issues. Some f*#ker had to go and smash into Immi’s car – (with her inside). Yikes! Physical pain, while it does heal eventually… freakin’ sucks!

Victor – was recently retrenched from a place he’s been working most of his life. And now, he’s at a cross-roads with no idea which path leads forward the best. I’m convinced all will be revealed for him.

If you should also be on this list – my apologies. In fact, I’m sure this list isn’t complete. Mostly coz of my terrible bullet-hole ridden memory… which ain’t no friend o’ mine.

If there’s one thing my Guru has said that I’ll never, ever forget, it’s this:

No one gets enlightened on their own

Recently, I was discussing with a friend the sultry attractiveness of life as a hermit. In some ways, it’s totally my idea of a good time. However, I do get that community is very important.

And that’s what we have here, in the blogosphere. Community, of a sort.

There are plenty of other blogs I read and comment on from time to time. I consider y’all a part of my lil blog community here, too…

A little message, from me to you

Even when you think you’re on your own. Know that you’re not… (I need to remember this as much as anyone).

Your thoughts of self-hatred, sadness, alienation, pain, sadness, anger, distress, anxiety – and more – plus any positive feelings you might be having… you’re not experiencing these without others who can relate. Who’ve been there too.

Pick a person in the crowd – you’re gonna find that almost everyone has experienced pain, loss, grief of some kind.

None of us are so different than the masses, even when one of those masses in a huge all-wheel drive car, and you’re on a push bike and the dude in the car thinks its a good idea to monster and yell abuse at you for no good reason…

Well, that driver? He too, suffers in some way. And if he could get over his anger, his need to defend against others so much… maybe he’d see he doesn’t need to give a poor ol’ cyclist a hard time. Or be so damn angry in the first place!

This funny old world we live in, where for some, its easier to reach out to complete strangers online than it is to check if your neighbour’s doing okay… all we really crave, each of us, is… Friendship. Love. Acceptance. Support.

To all of my friends: know that you have mine.

~Svasti

Once upon a time…

Tags

Car sale, Drums, Friends, Friendship, Meeting, Money, Relationship, Sex

This is also not “that” post… (but this one is!) 😉

We met at a nightclub.

I was out with K (my heroine) and her friend. You could say it was a fairly wild evening. Full of costumes, dress ups and people expressing their sexuality as they saw fit. The theme for the night was ‘fur’.

He was there playing bongos as part of the entertainment. I was drawn ofcourse, to the percussion as I always am. The heartbeat of a dancer, it pulls at my hips and my pulse. He was wild, muscular and tattooed. The drums could only just be heard above the rest of the music being played. He moved his drums and asked me to follow – up on the balcony where it was easier to hear the rhythms and there was more room to dance with abandon.

We connected that night, Andre and I.

Oh god – how much to tell? I am trying to be honest, but I’m also trying to stick to the point… so let’s just say there’s more to describe but not here. Not now.

After 12 years living in Sydney, I hadn’t been back home in Melbourne for very long. Not quite eight months in fact. I was starved of friendship and good company. Especially the company of people with a spiritual nature. I worked with plenty of people who… are either married or in long term relationships with established circles of friends. But none that I felt a great deal of resonance with. Great people, just not my people.

I’m also not the sort of person who makes friends quickly. Unless ofcourse, I do. There are some people I can make instant friends with, but otherwise it takes me a long time. The ‘instant’ friends are few in number but when it happens, its friggin’ awesome.

So we hit it off, and were seeing each other almost from the start. The sex was amazing. I’ve always been spoiled in that respect – having incredible sex in my various relationships/flings. In fact, its one of my biggest downfalls – I stay involved with someone longer than I should because the sex is great! Eventually I wake up, and get out… but not as quickly as I could do.

Andre would come over and play me music and I’d cook. He is Afro-American and a brilliant jazz and blues musician. He plays a gazillion instruments, writes poetry, paints and does kung fu. We’d go out dancing, or hang at a local pub and chat about life, the universe, everything! Also, he wasn’t freaked out by pictures of gurus and Indian gods and goddesses in my home. So in many ways, he was my sort of person.

Despite all the great things about him, I started to notice that when he left my place, I felt drained. It seemed to take a lot out of me to have him over. Also, he was really mysterious and didn’t share a lot of details about himself. He spoke in riddles a lot and whilst the more creative part of my nature didn’t have a problem with this… I’d gathered enough information to know that he and I weren’t going to be long term.

Towards the end of our time together, he’d convinced me to sell my old car to his ex-girlfriend (and mother of his kids) where he was acting as the go-between for us both. However, there was some drama around the deal, in which I had to assert my need to be paid in full at the time of the sale. Andre did some shouting at this point, but it wasn’t anything terribly odd.

Later on ofcourse, I found out the significance of that situation.

Anyway, his ex and I spoke on the phone, and worked things out. There was also a further misunderstanding around whether the car was being sold registered or not. I had said unregistered, but this didn’t translate via the middleman somehow. So she agreed to pay me another $200 or so, and I agreed this amount could wait another couple of weeks.

I should state that it was around the time of the ‘car drama’ that my intimate relationship with Andre was over. In part, this was due to the situation, but also, I think it was clear that other things weren’t in synch for us. We didn’t speak for a couple of weeks.

Andre’s ex was meant to meet me to hand over the last of the money she owed me. With her kids and work, she was finding it tough to make a time with me. So she asked me if it was okay for Andre to bring it over to my place.

I said yes.

~Svasti