Public Declaration of Excellently Awesome Future Life Plans

Tags

Adventure, be in the world., debt free, finances, goals, good health, Guru, Haiti, holidays, India, manifesto, Public Declaration of Excellently Awesome Future Life Plans, Relax, Retreat, see things, service work, study, teaching, touchstone, Travel, Universe, wander about, Writing, Yoga

Been meaning to write this one up for a while now.

Have you noticed how darn freakin’ hard it can be to keep your eyes on your goals when they’re not immediately in front of you? When there are no set dates or schedules? Even worse, when you’re working like a demon to get to even the first marker and more obstacles appear? Yeah, me too. That’s pretty much been 2011 for me.

It can be handy to write up your plans and have them all in one place. So this post is exactly that – a manifesto of my Excellently Awesome Future Life Plans.

All in public and centralised, and a touchstone for me to revisit whenever I forget what I’m working towards. Also, it’s a bit like putting an advance order in to the Universe.

So here it is…*

Short term

• Get a well-paying permanent or longer-term contract job (6-12 months) to keep me financially afloat.
• Be employed before, during and after the end of my current contract (end-November ’11).
• Take my birthday holiday trip in December. Have a blast, meet new people and RELAX.
• Work on reducing my physical possessions – sell stuff or give it away. Hold a garage sale?

Medium term

• Successfully wean myself off thyroid medication, with the assistance of kinesiology, diet, de-stressing, yoga and other exercise.
• Get a clean bill of health for my thyroid once I’m off medication.
• Write a complete first draft of the children’s book that’s banging around my brain. (It currently sends me messages like: WRITE ME, BIATCH).
• Find someone to illustrate my children’s book and collaborate on the work.
• Reverse my thyroid-induced weight gain. – HAPPENING!
• Pay off all of my debts completely.
• Start saving a whole bunch of money for my Big Overseas Adventure!
• Gain my English as a Second Language (ESL) teaching certificate.
• Keep reducing amount of physical possessions to those things that are necessary for functional and/or emotional/spiritual/sanity purposes.
• Get travel shots.

Longer term

• Find a publisher who wants to publish my book and pay me money for it!
• Once I’ve saved up a whole bunch of money for my Big Overseas Adventure, buy an around the world plane ticket. Get necessary visas and insurance. UPDATE 17/3/2013: For now, I’m not taking a ’round the world trip, just a two month sabbatical to India (currently in progress!)
• Quit my job. WOOP! WOOP!
• This one is sad. :( Find an excellent new home for Miss Cleo the cat. My beautiful girl. UPDATE 17/3/2013: Since I’m not going overseas indefinitely, I just have a house/cat sitter instead!
• Sell all possessions I don’t want to keep. Box up what’s left to put in storage.
• Make all necessary plans and farewells. Then GET ON PLANE!!
• First stop: India, for panca karma, studying at KYM and Satyananda Ashram. Wander about. See things. Be in the world.
• Second stop: find wherever my Guru is in the world and spend some time with him, still studying yoga (referring to the complete idea of yoga here – philosophy, meditation, asana, pranayama, mudra, bandha).
• Third stop: spend some time in retreat.
• Other stops: maybe visit friends in the UK and US. Do some volunteer work in Haiti. Wander about. See things. Be in the world.
• Maintain and increase my good health, thyroid or otherwise.

Even longer term…

Now I’m getting into very speculative territory. But here’s a lifestyle that could make me happy:

• Settle down somewhere in Asia. Maybe Thailand or somewhere nearby. Somewhere beautiful.
• Get a job teaching yoga, perhaps at some swanky retreat centre.
• Perhaps get another job teaching ESL.
• Write more children’s books and/or other types of books.
• Maybe also do some freelance writing for various websites.
• Combine all of the above with doing service work of some kind, preferably working with children or women at risk. People who need love.
• Maybe other things. Probably LOTS of other things. But the point is to be doing work that I love and that makes me happy.
• Maintain and increase my good health, thyroid or otherwise.
• Live a life I can’t even imagine right now. A really, really GREAT one.

Somewhere in this process…

I dare to dream that this future also includes personal, romantic love. As in a partner. It’s been a long time, but I think I’m finally ready to open my heart again. For someone who gets me, and vice versa. Someone who has a good heart and thrives on the kind of life I’ve described above, just as much as I do. Someone who isn’t afraid of change, growth and learning new things. Someone who knows who they are and isn’t afraid to challenge themselves or me. Who is passionate and knows how to make me laugh. Side note: someone who is preferably taller than my 5’10½” because I dig a tall guy.

So there we have it. My Public Declaration of Excellently Awesome Future Life Plans.

For a long time, I didn’t have any plans or dreams. I didn’t make any and couldn’t even imagine a time in my life where I’d be happy and doing what I wanted to be doing. Things are different now. I’m on my way, y’all!**

Of course, the Universe will have a say in how things pan out. But assuming the Universe agrees, this is what I’ll be doing.

~ Svasti

* This post will get updated as things change!

** Being on my way doesn’t mean I assume everything is gonna go off without a hitch or be problem-free. That’d be foolish-thinking. But I’m down with a somewhat bumpy journey, as long as I can still achieve my goals.

Sunday night dose of reality

Tags

buffer, catalysing, Depression, dream-like consciousness, get out of Dodge, Guru, karmas, Money, obligations, past life karmas, PTSD, Reality, Society of Beggars, The Matrix, thousand shredded pieces, uphill shit-fight, Waking up, Yoga

Try not to be alarmed by the failure to see a clear picture...

Ahhh, more turns of the wheel are completed! Hear them? Clink-clack-clink-clack as the cycle repeats and once again, wherein patterns I thought I’d shed reappear and remind me it’s not over yet… not yet, don’t drop that mallet and chisel until every line is smooth and true.

<existential rant>

I tried a little more honesty with my sister today as she prepared her family to leave the country for a month, only weeks ahead of when I myself, was meant to be going away. My parents are already out of the country themselves.

This, at a time where my life… well, it’s still in a thousand shredded pieces around my feet. My sister’s only words were to “think positively”, which caused me to laugh derisively. What do you think I’ve been doing all these years? Thinking positively doesn’t always work…

There’s this thing you’re meant to do see, when people are leaving on a trip. Be happy and excited for them – and I am. But, my entire family is not in the country at a time when hey, if they were gonna be supportive in any way, right now would be really great. I still have that fantasy to some degree, that one day they will actually be there for me when I need them the most.

And so I couldn’t be all just hey, how wonderful it is that you’re going away! Which wasn’t fun for either of us, but at least it was honest.

Am I feeling sorry for myself? Desperate? Incredibly unsure as I once again face a gaping void of complete and utter un-surety? Perhaps, yeah. But I think there’s more to it than that.

The honesty I tried to share with my sister is really about coming to terms with what I’ve done with my time here since returning to my home town. It’s true, none of it has really worked out the way I wanted, expected or imagined. But then, does anything, ever?

Actually, all of this reminds me of something a good friend of mine told me once: when he got his very first motorbike as a teenager, he took it to pieces in order to learn how to put it back together. That resonates with my experience of life… it had to come apart in every possible way because of my intense curiosity about how we ‘work’ as human beings.

It’s been like that since I was very young, and has only intensified over the years, especially once I met my Guru (and y’know, those kind of teachers are renowned for catalysing your karmas!). Having a Guru is not for the faint of heart!

So it’s all stuff I’ve asked for, sort of. Well, what I asked for and very specifically took vows to do, was a commitment to waking up from the dream-like consciousness that we humans generally function in. That’s how we manage to get by in this funny old existence… while we yearn for unity with everything around us and at the same time, mostly feel completely separate and isolated. But there’s another game we can play, if we’re willing!

Being a yogi and also, being a yoga teacher… does NOT mean that I’m automatically an angelic and together person. I’m not better than anyone else. I haven’t dealt with all of my stuff (and if you think you have, you’re probably lying to yourself!). In fact, the very work of being a yogi involves getting uncomfortably intimate with the truth.

A sister yogi and I were recently discussing life lessons, and she suggested that perhaps they present themselves in an appropriate way for our personality display. Like… for the fiery types that she and I both are, we can not be reached with lessons unless they too, are fiery. To really learn and grow, we need to be jolted and shocked out of our complacency in a way that makes sense to us.

Most people don’t want any part of such lessons and so they buffer and buffer… reality has to knock really loudly to be heard. Most of the time, the call goes unanswered, because it is truly painful to even begin the process of really waking up.

Think of everything that happens in The Matrix when humans are plucked out of the CPU of human minds created by the machines – there’s nothing particularly comfortable about it (that movie in fact, is quite accurate in explaining some of the enlightenment process, to a point anyway), and one of the characters (Cypher) even wants to “forget” the truths he learned:

You know, I know this steak doesn’t exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth, the Matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years, you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss.
~Cypher, The Matrix

And so… I ask myself if it’s possible that I could’ve learned what I needed to learn about anger, sadness, desire, grace, compassion, love, trust, listening to my intuition and a whole bunch more… another way? Maybe. But then again, maybe not. And if that’s the case, it’s impossible to feel unhappy about it. And yet… here I am, still facing so much uncertainty. Still feeling like it’s a complete uphill shit-fight to develop a more stable structure for my life.

Or, maybe I’m just not meant to have that kind of stability and this fight isn’t going to get me anywhere?

It’s hard to say without further guidance. And the annoying thing about my intuitive gift is that it doesn’t work on command, and it also doesn’t give me the big picture very often.

So here I am, still feeling like I’m “stuck” in Melbourne. In almost six years, I’ve managed to recover from PTSD without medication, I mostly have a handle on my depression tendencies and I’ve gained yoga teacher qualifications. None of this is what I came back here for…

The reason I did come back is because it seemed like the right thing to do. Because I was fulfilling a long-held pact between my sister and I… and if you buy into past life karmas in anyway, then I’ll add this: the pact was not just of this life-time. Anyway, that’s arbitrary for those who are dismissive of such things.

Since my return, I’ve put my family’s needs and demands before my own, and generally that has not been returned in kind. Especially when I was doing everything in my power to cultivate an air of normalcy over my completely abnormal state of mind. Apparently I did a really good job of that.

Because when asked point blank – What did you think when you saw me shaking and bruised and distraught and unable to sleep? Why didn’t anybody consider that perhaps getting assaulted wasn’t something you could get over in a single week or even a month? Why didn’t anyone in my family ring me? Call to see if I was okay? Check if I was eating? Encourage me to get help? – the answer was that they didn’t see.

This is despite both my mother and my sister accompanying me to court on two separate occasions and witnessing how I could barely speak about what happened. How my entire body shook in fear. They wondered why I didn’t invite anyone over to my place, but didn’t bother to find out why. They noticed that my behaviour changed, but didn’t question it except to think that something was “wrong” with me. Something that was my own problem, and nothing they could help me with. They didn’t even try. I don’t blame them as such, because I get that they have so much going on in their own lives that they simply couldn’t see. Or didn’t want to.

However, I now feel like I’ve fulfilled whatever obligations I had to my family in returning home. I have a very strong urge to get out of Dodge, and yet I don’t know where I’m meant to be instead. Also, I have a bit of an issue with money in that I don’t seem to be able to get a job… and a job = money = the ability to do whatever I need to do…

So yes, I am frustrated. And I wish it was me heading overseas. And I feel very humble at the same time, which is perhaps a contradiction. But it’s true.

I feel the need to spread my wings but it seems I’ve forgotten how to fly…

</existential rant>

Now returning you to your regular viewing…

~Svasti

P.S. What I really wanted to do was to find y’all a copy of one of my new favourite songs online. BUT the band is so new that they’ve only got one or two songs on You Tube so far, and not the one I wanted to share. The band is an Aussie one, called Society of Beggars. You can check ‘em out on MySpace!

**UPDATE** I got an email from someone in the Society of Beggars camp via Facebook, and they sent me this link where you can download the entire album! ;)

P.P.S. This is another one of those posts where I seriously had to think hard about whether I should publish it at all. But heck, this kind of honesty is what my blog was founded on… And y’know, real life isn’t neat and tidy with story lines that always wrap with “happily ever after”.

Waking up

Tags

cheerleader dance, Essence Nature, Grace, Guru, Guru Purnima, Jaya Gurudev, Love, non-dual state of awareness, Yoga

Here’s what Grace looks like sometimes: a photo of someone you love unflinchingly with your whole heart; someone who inspires you and is both honest and fierce in their approach to life and seeking a truly non-dual state of awareness. They aren’t even looking at the camera and yet love, joy, and open-heartedness ripples and radiates from every pore of their being. It’s uplifting and you can almost taste it. This photo has the power to reflect your true Essence Nature right back at you without effort. BAM!

I have a photo like this. It’s of someone very, very special to me that I haven’t seen in two years now, and who I might not get to see later this year unless I get a job and/or money coming in VERY soon. My heart’s inspiration. My Guru.

Yesterday – 25^th July – was Guru Purnima. A day to celebrate all gurus and wisdom masters. And celebrations were had although I didn’t get to attend any. Not that it matters – this photo (which I am loathe to share with others because it is such an intimate matter for me) is more than enough. Without a word, it speaks volumes, and wakes me right up.

It says: Drop the frustration, for that is no way to live! Are you paying attention or are you forgetting? Tune into your heart; tune into the things that make you sing! Are you really alone anyway? Railing at life will not make it better. To grow, you MUST do the work! Celebrate! Get EXCITED!

Yes, a photo can say all of those things. At least, this one does. Well, that’s what is reflected back at me when I look at it, and what rises up within me in response.

There’s a very real possibility I might not be able to go on retreat as planned in October – back to Thailand and my fellow yogis and yoginis – because currently I’m living on the money I was saving for my flight and living expenses… and even that will be running out pretty soon.

That’s all I have. I don’t have other savings. Four months of unemployment last year knocked all of that out and the last twelve months have been about re-stabilising myself, trying to save for retreat and make sure I don’t look too shabby (i.e. owning relatively decent work clothes etc).

So, I might not get to go. Even if I get a job now, it might not be possible. I’d really have to save like the blazes to make it happen, but then, who am I to say what the next few months will be like?

In some ways it doesn’t matter at all. I have a wealth of teachings and practices to revel in. I know I am fortunate to be able to call someone like my Guru, my teacher. And I can’t begin to explain all of the ways that the distance doesn’t matter.

Anti-guru sentiment often surrounds the concept of someone being perceived as setting themselves up as a Guru while really just being a charismatic charlatan. There’s this suspicion that all they’re doing is building up a bunch of blind followers who unquestioningly adore them, and manipulating said followers to do their bidding – whatever that might be.

Even in India, there are both the pro-guru and anti-guru camps. I know it. There are even teachers I respect who, while not exactly anti-guru, sure aint pro-guru either.

And I know I can’t speak for anyone else’s experience of gurus, because my experience only includes mine.

But like any experience and preference we have, a guru-student relationship isn’t for everyone. In the same way I’m never going to be an astronaut or a dentist, not everyone will want to/be able to have a guru.

None of this matters to me. For whatever reason I was fortunate enough to meet this wonderfully inspiring person. I was also open enough at the time to see there was something to learn from him (massive, MASSIVE understatement).

And while I have many teachers of yoga and wisdom in my life – and I am profoundly grateful for all of them – my Guru alone causes my mind and body to sing (quite literally sometimes). He shines a great light on the possibilities of this life and when I’m not around him, I miss him very much. I wish I had the karma to live nearby him – perhaps that will happen later in my life, but not now.

Often, he is in my dreams and there are photos of him in my house and on my computer. Somehow, even those interactions are lessons with much to offer.

Guru to me, is essentially a big mirror. But one that reflects back my true nature as a human being, not just the small distorted view of myself I often have! Eventually, the idea is that one day I’ll I look in the mirror and see Guru and my Self as one. No separation, because Guru is me, and I am my Guru. In a real sense, not just imagined or desired.

Also, Guru is someone who has travelled the path I’m on and has come back to share knowledge with others. Guru is experienced, wise, compassionate and patient while I struggle with my fears. And always, Guru is waiting to help me take that next step whenever I am ready. And when I do, Guru is the first to break out the cheerleader dance.

Jaya Gurudev! Om gum gurubhyo namaha!

~Svasti

On becoming a yoga teacher – part 2

Tags

Asana, Guru, Hatha yoga, initiation, Love, Sanskrit, self-confidence, self-knowledge, Yoga, Yoga teacher, yoga teacher training, yoga-ish insights, Yogini

[Read part 1 first]

It’s really only been in the last five years that I’ve started to understand yoga asana more fully. But until recently, I remained very unsure of myself as a yogini.

I can’t really explain why. I think that unlike RB sticking her hand up, my tendency has always been to shrink into the corner.

Around the time I took initiation into my Guru’s lineage, I decided I wanted to deepen my knowledge and ability with asana. But it still took me a while to do something (anything) about it.

As previously mentioned my therapist H, prompted me on what I’d like my life to look like at a time where I couldn’t see fifty meters in front of me. And surprisingly I found myself telling her I wanted to be a yoga teacher. I’d never told anyone that. Not even myself!

I signed up for the Hatha Yoga Studies Certificate course instead of the Yoga Teacher Training (YTT) even though I wanted to do the latter because I still didn’t feel ready (oh ye of little faith in oneself).

But for once I felt like I was in the right forum to ask those burning questions about asana I had trouble with. After all, I’d paid for the privilege of being in a small dedicated class where it was all about breaking down each pose and working through our challenges. For once I felt okay confiding my imperfections and getting the advice I needed to resolve them.

It was heavenly! Four to five hours of yoga – practicing asana and talking theory = my idea of a good time. Oh yeah baby!

Actually, it was only by doing the course that I realised I was ready for YTT (the two courses are identical until half-way through, so it wasn’t a hassle to switch). Still, I’m not sure I would’ve switched if I hadn’t been encouraged.

I’m deeply grateful for a number of things about my YTT.

First up, it was a 500 hour course. Not that there’s anything wrong with shorter trainings, but I really liked how that extra time allowed us to delve into some of the more esoteric aspects of yoga: the sort of stuff I’ve been studying for years and really enjoy.

Secondly, the course was paced out over almost an entire year. I know of others that are completed much more quickly! Some people even asked me why the course took such a long time to complete?! BUT there’s so much information to take in, and not just trying to memorise the Sanskrit names of asanas, or perfecting your practice (you never will!) or learning a little anatomy and physiology. Becoming a yoga teacher or any kind of teacher really… is a process. And the one important thing a process needs is time – to gestate, steep, mature, transform, explore, grow.

Also, I’m so glad I did my training at a school with heart. The heart very much comes from the woman who runs the school – M. She’s a great example of a yogini who takes her yoga off the mat and into everyday life. Not only did she help out many students who struggled financially last year (including me), but she also has a habit of donating to those in need. Something that is very close to my heart. And it shows in how she treats her students, as well as the quality of people who support her and teach there.

I learned many yoga-ish things (of course) in YTT, but also discovered a bunch of insights along the way, including:

• Flow in your yoga practice comes from confidence and self-knowledge. It’s not just about understanding how to sequence your asana. You’ve got to get a feel for what your body needs. Then, it can almost look like you’re dancing.
• Teaching yoga isn’t just about standing at the front of a class and giving instructions. It’s about making sure your students get what you’re saying. And sharing your love of yoga, your experiences and insights (where appropriate) and offering challenges for students and for yourself, too. In fact, it’s about being a human being, relating to other human beings.
• Without doubt, teaching is a learning experience. A reflection on your ability to be in the moment and put aside your issues with yourself. Because it’s not about you, the teacher, and you can’t be worried about your physical appearance or anything else while you’re teaching.
• That old maxim “those who can’t do, teach” isn’t true at all for yoga (and probably many other disciplines, too). Yoga teachers must practice yoga, must understand what they are asking others to do before they can even think of approaching the front of the room.
• Then, a yoga teacher must continue to practice – it’s not like you finish your YTT and you can suddenly do every asana perfectly! Or that once a pose is perfected, it will stay that way without effort. No way!
• Becoming a yoga teacher does not automatically make someone a perfected yogi or person: there will always be something that’s hard or seemingly impossible. Yoga teachers are simply sharing the teachings in the best way they know how, which is (hopefully) always changing and growing.
• To really teach yoga, one must attempt to remain humble and open at all times. It’s not about being an authority figure!

As well as facing down my depression and PTSD, the training also made me take a look at my self-confidence. Like… when I was first asked to practice-teach a class, I was terrified. Even if I was only working with one other person!

I was afraid of listening to my own voice, to be honest. Of sounding/feeling confident in leading someone through a sequence of poses. And of feeling comfortable enough to look someone in the eye while I instructed them in how to move their body.

It felt so intimate, and that’s because it is. It’s an extremely intimate and sensitive activity and it requires you to forget about yourself. Put aside your issues and whatever negative self-talk you usually spruik. After all, how can students in your care do the same thing for themselves if you’re busy giving yourself a hard time?

Also, putting aside your ‘stuff’ creates space for miracles to occur both for the teacher and the student. Miracles of love, of being able to master physical movements that have previously been out of reach. Allowing that open space to be free of self-doubt creates possibility…

Most of all, I think I’ve learned how to make yoga practical and doable for myself and others. YTT helped bring into focus something my Guru would tell us repeatedly: yoga isn’t about perfect form; it’s about synchronising your body and mind.

I feel that the repetition YTT over the course of an entire year is what sealed it for me. The fire was stoked in the first half of the year, lit when I switched to YTT and finally, turned into a brilliant source of light, warmth and refinement.

And now it’s up to me – what will I do with that flame? What fuel will I use to keep it alight?

That’s where I stand right now: one foot firmly on this brand new path with an open heart and a desire to share…

~Svasti

On becoming a yoga teacher – part 1

Tags

Abhasavada, aerobics, Asana, Bali, Childrens' theatre, Guru, non-dualism, Pantomime, prosthetic pig nose, Tantrik philosophy, Yoga, Yoga Synergy, yoga teacher training

I used to be afraid of it. Asana, that is.

My first knowledge of the existence of yoga was when I was eighteen or nineteen and a member of a children’s theatre troupe. We staged children’s shows (pantomime) in exchange for free lessons in performance, voice, movement, clown work, costuming, front of house management and so on. It was run by a curmudgeonly matron named Joy, which wasn’t too ironic because when she wasn’t being grumpy, she really was rather lovely.

One day in the dressing room as I applied my prosthetic pig nose (I was Mrs. Pig in The Three Little Pigs), I wondered aloud what form of exercise I should be doing. A fellow performer told me that yoga was all she needed for fitness and health. For some reason I didn’t press her for details, and she didn’t offer.

See, I’d been a synchronised swimmer and a dancer for much of my childhood/teen years. And I’d also caught on to the tail end of the flouro high-cut leotard aerobics fad. I was already flexible. What else could yoga do for me? That was my thinking back then, anyway.

Next time I heard the word yoga mentioned was when I was forced to take an indefinite break from belly dancing. I’d been performing all over Sydney for a couple of years but had a toe injury that forced me to stop, or have surgery (which I ended up having many years later anyway). I was probably about twenty-five. A friend of my then-fiancé suggested I try his yoga school in Newtown.

And that’s where I met my very first yoga teachers. They’re kinda famous these days: Simon Borg-Olivier and Bianca Machliss of Yoga Synergy. To be honest, even though I enjoyed their classes, I didn’t quite get the point of yoga. Any pose that called on my flexibility was fun, but I found the strength stuff a bit… meh. Or to say it another way, I found asana that required physical strength (of the upper body especially) very difficult and my ego didn’t like it!

Simon and Bianca are great teachers but it took me ages to listen to their verbal instructions properly (**note: this is not to call fault with their teaching at all – more, it’s just that I don’t think I was “awake” enough to be able to listen properly, if you understand what I’m saying). I clearly recall the moment when I realised what Simon was actually saying in a class, versus what I thought he’d been saying. It was a revelation really. I probably did yoga there for a year or two, but once I left my fiancé, I moved to the other side of Sydney and didn’t know of any local yoga classes. And I wasn’t in love with asana, not yet.

Til I met my Guru. Even then, I was way more focused on trying to understand Tantrik philosophy than anything else. We’d do some asana but then we’d be sitting to meditate, read or engage in long conversations on non-dualism, view or abhasavada (for example). But watching him do asana was thrilling. He was (and is) a big muscular man and yet his movements are impeccably graceful. And flexible and strong. It was… inspiring.

When I first met some of his American students, I felt very intimidated because they were so darn good at yoga, whereas I was clumsily inept. Guruji confirmed: Oh don’t worry about that – most of them are yoga teachers and they’ve been practicing for years. Uh huh… somehow, instead of feeling inspired by this, I wanted to crawl away in a corner. I thought I’d never be any good at yoga asana!

Then post-initiation, post-assault and post-toe surgery, we had our Bali retreat which was specifically focused on asana and for the first time I got it. It’s kinda easy to let it all sink in when you’re immersed in a traditional Hindu/Tantrik community. It was my first real understanding of working with yoga from the bones – inside out, not just relying on muscular strength or physical form.

Even after that and attending many more classes, I still felt like I didn’t know what I was doing with yoga asana. I felt silly. I tried doing yoga at home but would give up after a few poses simply because I had no confidence in myself or my abilities.

However by then I did understand the way to structure a yoga practice: standing poses, balancing poses, back bends, twists, forward bends and inversions. But I had no flow. No sense of how moving my body was connected to my mind, let alone anything bigger than that.

[To be continued…]

~Svasti

History of a spiritual quest – part v

Tags

animal familiars, belly dancing, Canberra, fork in the road, Guru, Kali, Pagan, paganism, Pagans in the Pub, run-away stream, rune reading as an oracle, Runes, satin, shamanic, spirit journeying, spiritual quest, trance work, Vedic astrology, velvet, Vimshottari Dashas, weapons training

[Read part i, part ii, part iii, & part iv]

Now that I look at it, the path that leads to where I stand (for the moment anyway), has been this kind of run-away stream. For the most part of its own accord, it’s flowed merrily back to source with little direction from me. For a long time I simply followed the path of least resistance, come what may.

I was not purposeful, not imbued with a sense of knowing where I was going. Just had a gut instinct about where I had to get to. Like to like, I floated along – sometimes easily, others not – and with great surprise and yet no surprise, found myself at the beginning of where I’d meant to get to all along.

But growing up in a world devoid of clues as to exactly where that was, I relied on little more than my intuition and sub-conscious cues. And it took me a while to learn to trust all of that. Hence, this bizarre quest of sorts… this journey with so many twists and turns…

Picture a dust-drenched camping plot an hour’s drive from Canberra (the concrete capital), amongst parched gum trees spattered across a thirsty horizon, on a summery late-January weekend… add all those velvet and lace outfits, hippie clothes, cloaks, capes etc, in country-Australia, at a green and sweat flecked camp ground…

The Pagan Summer Gathering of 1988 was in session.

I was a long flowing skirt wearing, belly-dancing goddess woman – teaching a unisex belly-dance workshop (based on my theory of dance and movement – see point #6). J was all Celtic-warrior-hard-man-long-hair-and-beard spiritual stuff.

The day of my workshop, was country-Australia-harsh-unforgiving, get-a-tan-in-the-shade kind of hot. It was a blast, even though only a single guy turned up. It was my first ever gig teaching people something I wanted to share.

New sign post

There was also a workshop on runes happening a bit later and both J and I were interested. I’d wandered over to see what was going on, glanced at the guy who’d be leading it (someone I’ve written about here before and labelled A) and swiftly backed away. Little did I realise he was to become my teacher and years later, my lover.

I was “saved” by a good friend I hadn’t seen in a while. He pulled me aside to tell me some serious news. With a legitimate excuse to not go, I dragged my friend back to my tent to commiserate, eat food and talk.

But J did go, and excitedly returned. This guy is the real deal. He’s learned this traditional system of runes, he’s Sydney-based and will be teaching classes.

An unspoken agreement occured: we’d be going to those classes. Despite my initial reaction to A, everything that J told me sucked me in. A western style martial form with weapons? A kind of western tai-chi? Herbolgy? Mythology? Runes as an oracle?

Coooooool!

This PSG wasn’t amazing just because of this new fork in the road. It was also my first proper introduction to Kali, my Mahavidya (another story circa 2008, ten years later).

At this gathering, that slightly off-center guy (even for a group of pagans) I’d met at Pagans in the Pub was running a Kali ritual. Which involved nudity but no sex (many of these things did), mantra and dancing. Can’t remember anything else about it, probably because I didn’t understand it much.

Didn’t really think about it at the time. And so it was… Kali had already staked something of a claim. Then, maybe it’s just always been that way?

Runology

Back in Sydney, J and I and another friend started studying this runic system with A.

We’d travel from one side of Sydney to another every fortnight for about a year, learning an oral family tradition that’d been handed down from one generation to the next, and had finally been taught to four outsiders, to keep the tradition alive.

One of those four people was the man who’d become my Guru (he’s trained in many esoteric traditions). He was living in Australia at the time, so when he came back from the UK, he taught a few Australian students of his own, including A.

And what we learned was a rich and fascinating living tradition of western shamanism: animal familiars; spirit journeying; trance work; rune reading as an oracle; weapons training. And so much more. So interesting, especially since we white folk are convinced we lack such history. But in some pockets of the world, this knowledge lives on.

Around September of the same year, we were handed flyers for a rune workshop with my Guru. J was working that weekend and made the call not to change his work schedule. But I did go, staying at A’s place overnight. Which is kinda sorta where my Why I have a Guru series picks up…

Galaxy of coincidences

Something I haven’t mentioned in that series is how my Vedic astrology chart correlates with some of the monumental changes in my life. Vimshottari Dashas are major cycles of time a planet/moon rules in your birth chart and according to Vedic astrology; this can influence your activities and state of mind.

When I moved to Sydney from Melbourne at the age of twenty-one, it was smack-dab on the transition into my Sun cycle – a time of activity. And when I met my Guru, it was the exact transition from Sun to Moon cycle – good for inner work but little else!

So, major changes in my chart it seems, have equalled major changes in my life. Quite unbeknown to me at the time.

The first encounter with my Guru left me enamoured, dazed and definitely a little confused. Also, quite radiant, joyous and kinda high! I returned from my weekend up north absolutely raving about it all.

Of course, J was far from impressed. I’d say it was blatantly clear that if asked, I would’ve gone to live wherever my Guru was (that’s never actually happened, not yet!).

When I went back a couple of weeks later to talk to him some more, I was given some practices to get started with. Off-handed, and without really knowing anything about my relationship with J, my Guru said to me – Oh, so you’re still engaged? Like he was reading my inner turmoil and simply spoke it aloud…

Without doubt, that day was one of those moments where knowledge descends. But more on that topic soon. It was a quickening, a ripening, perhaps a remembering…

Down, down, down

By this time, things between J and I had been deteriorating for a good six months. We were slowly imploding, and here I was, infatuated with another man – even if it wasn’t actually infatuation in a romantic way. At the time it sure felt romantic to me, in my state of delusion and elation!

To complicate things, I’d also had something of a crush on A for a while, but told no one. Not a soul. Actually, I was kinda proud of myself that I was aware of the crush and had no plans to act on it. I was with J, and A was married.

J often blamed our relationship breakdown on my feelings for A and my Guru. But the truth was, we had our own problems and it would be wrong to blame external influences. I will admit that my Guru was a catalyst, but not in any obvious way. Perhaps it was just all part of that quickening…

As it seemed less and less likely J and I would ever get married, we both withdrew. The time of talking, arguing, pleading, crying and hoping was mostly done. I took off my engagement ring in protest, and left it on a shelf in the lounge room. J responded by playing more and more computer games with the study door shut.

Nature abhors a vacuum, so as many couples in that situation do… we found fault with each other more and more, and our focus was drawn in opposing directions. Until there was no longer a way to mend our broken bonds.

But before that, we had more rune workshops with the head of the family tradition, who’d flown to Australia. I had my very first and quite shocking experience with trance work, and found out just how deadly a half-blind old man can be in martial arts training!

J and I both delved more intensely into our mutual interest in this tradition. Yet all that time… we moved increasingly out of each other’s orbit.

To be continued…

~ Svasti

History of a spiritual quest – part iii

Tags

belly dancing, Carlisle Castle Hotel, coven, Egypt, full moon, Guru, Hare Krishna, Interview with the Vampire, Kali, Newtown, Pagan, paganism, Pagans in the Pub, pentagrams, Puja, satin, sexual preferences, spiritual quest, velvet, witchcraft

[Read part i & part ii first]

Various dark coloured shades of satin and velvet. A talking stick. Women with flowers in their hair, layers of silver jewellery and long swooshing skirts. Sequins and sparkly things. Incense. Grown men and women in robes with hoods. And capes. Leather pouches tied to belts containing runes or tarot cards. The occasional new agey t-shirt with a wolf howling at the moon.

And much beer.

This was my introduction to Pagans in the Pub in Sydney, circa 1993.

A group of twenty or so people gathered in the back room of the Carlisle Castle Hotel (yes, Pagans in the Pub held in a pub with the name ‘castle’ in the title – the puns are free and keep on coming!).

The Carlisle Castle, courtesy of Google street view

Just an unassuming working class pub in the narrow backstreets of Newtown surrounded by workman’s cottages built snugly together. The front bar was populated with stoic and gruff older men, surprised at the repeated declarations of ‘Blessed be’ emanating from the back room.

I spotted T, dressed in a dark red long sleeved shirt, a black vest and jeans, meticulous dark hair and beard. He introduced me to a bunch of people whose names I immediately forgot.

Of course, it wasn’t just ‘hi, I’m Jason’, but ‘hi, I’m Jason-Lightworker and I’m a Druid’. Or ‘hi, I’m Silverstar and I’m a Shaman’. Everyone there, it seemed, was a something-or-other-magical-label which they revelled in.

There was discussion and debate. Plenty of opinions voiced and egos marched out for all to see. The topics were decidedly unusual, but hey, what could I expect from a mixed bag of pagans?

Overwhelming is one word. Colourful is another. Whacky, free-spirited and a little lost… they’re other words.

Let me just say the start of my search in no way resembled where I ended up. But if I hadn’t taken that first tentative step (followed by many others), I never would have met my guru. Even if it was just a slightly out of the way route.

Me and T

Turns out T was one of the movers and shakers in the Sydney pagan community. He was somewhat notorious, and had been around for a long time.

Although at the time I was questioning my sexual preferences (gay/straight/bi), and even though I didn’t find T (14 years my senior) physically attractive, somehow we ended up together.

And actually at the time we met, I was in fact, dating a woman. Clearly, not for long.

That part of the story alone, is worthy of its own focus. There’s no way to write about the how’s and why’s of my relationship with T without changing the point of this story, which is my journey through the world of neo-paganism.

It was a mad eighteen months of my life in which: we went to Egypt (my first overseas trip and T is well-versed in Egyptian mythology); we moved in together (bookshelves, skull candelabras, pentagram rugs and all!); I started belly dancing (he thought I’d like it – I did); he taught me about witchcraft (not as dark and dangerous as most would imagine); we started a coven (small group of people learning witchcraft); we ran a pretty awesome dress up event for the premiere of Interview with the Vampire (another story yet again); T contemplated faking his own death (I talked him out of it)… and more.

Much more.

With T, I attended my first ever pagan type weekend gathering. You know the kind – a bush camp site with bunks and dorms, a mess hall, marquee tents and fire pits. Drums, full moon (and other) rituals, various workshops, late night jam sessions, hash, peace and love. He also took me to my very first Hare Krishna meal by donation/chanting session and we went often.

In some ways, T was the real deal and I learnt a lot from him. In other ways, he was completely stark raving crazy.

I had my doubts about T and I around eight months in. He was running away from his past, and stuck in a certain reality. I was still… learning. However, I was meeting plenty of people and being exposed to all kinds of new ideas.

That time in my life was somehow very important (which is part of that other story). I was still only twenty-two, impressively aimless and ashamed that I hadn’t gone to university.

What I learned

I was living life like it was some big adventure playground. But finally I was learning all kinds that made sense to me (at least some of it did) on spiritual topics. Things I’d written about many years ago. It was… helpful.

But the pagan scene, I found, was a little hollow. Many of the people putting on robes and turning up to full moon rituals could just as easily have been attending church. By that I mean, they seemed to want to belong and be a part of something. Have a label that worked for them. And there was little real magic going on.

I even met one guy who, despite his tattoos and piercings, eyeliner and 100% black wardrobe, claims to black magic and darkness… once said… Do you ever think about what will happen if the Christians are right?

Personally, I didn’t. I’ve never seen things quite as black and white as that.

Generally, the people were lovely and the experiences were cool. But I was looking for something else. I imagined it was like ringing a bell with a very specific tone and pitch that exactly matches my own.

And I hadn’t found it yet.

I even met a genuine yogi at that time – a Kali devotee – fond of naked puja. But it didn’t ring true, not with him. Which perhaps had something to do with the fact that I found him a little peculiar. Nice. But kinda whacked.

Endings & beginnings

Things ended with T as dramatically as they’d begun.

I’d been performing in some local theatre and he was jealous of my co-star (much closer to me in age, not to mention tall, dark & sexy). I found out later T had been following me as I walked to rehearsals!

Nothing had happened, except for the kissing required of our roles. But there was a definite flirtation going on.

T and I had put on another of our big costume parties. All our pagan friends, my theatre and belly dance friends were invited. It was a wild night with a band in the front room, local pop-rock stars in attendance, lots of dancing, drinking and madness.

For reasons known only to T, he flew into a rage after everyone had left, accusing me of sleeping with my co-star (I wasn’t, not yet). He didn’t believe me and threw me out of the bedroom, ordering me to move out the next day (with ominous threats of what would happen if I didn’t).

The threat I’ve never been able to forget is… a little too gruesome to write down.

I was sufficiently terrified and called one of my pagan friends. S said she’d help me move and I could stay with her until I found my own place.

[Read part iv]

~Svasti

Illumination

Tags

clarity, full moon, Guru, Guru Purnima, illumination, initiation, kickboxing, kula, Muay Thai, sadhana, Samskaras, Yoga, yogi, Yogini

Clarity can come at the strangest moments. And the volume or quality of such a moment is hard to qualify – once it hits, it doesn’t fade, but damn, it can happen so fast!

The light of such clarity reaches into every corner of your being. Things that were complex and confusing become simple and 100% crystal clear.

Just as an aside, although it’s related… in my experience there’s a few rather disconcerting things that occur if you’ve found your Guru and have taken formal initiation (if you’re that way inclined).

For one thing, you become part of a collective energy body, connected, even if you’re on the other side of the world. And that means all kinds of weird and wonderful things. I could tell you about it, but you’d just think I was taking LSD or something!

I mention this because of the recent full moon, which also happened to be Guru Purnima – a traditional yearly festival where initiates pay homage to their Guru – and to the Guru lineage in general, actually.

Jaya Hanuman! Jaya Gurudev!!

Right now, some of my kula are hanging out in Thailand together, celebrating this event with our Guru. I was of course, there for the festivities last year. Sigh!

Whenever there’s a large gathering of my kula somewhere in the world, if I’m not there, I feel it anyway.

I get ‘zapped’ by the energy being generated. Others do, too. Often, I can’t sleep, which also happens for many of us in the lead up to any intensive retreat we’re about to attend.

Two nights ago I had the worst sleep I’ve had in absolutely ages. Woke up and realised, oh yeah… full moon… Guru Purnima!!

It’s always a very powerful time of year.

Though it wasn’t just me and my kula. A lot of people were reporting (via Twitter) this particular full moon was affecting them intensely.

Even though I felt awful when I woke up Tuesday morning, I also felt renewed. Almost like… a lot of ‘stuff’ had just been clawed away.

And I was clear – it’s time to stop leaking energy all over the place.

When doing sadhana over time, practitioners build up a lot of energy. It can be quite a heady experience, especially if you’re not ready to deal with it.

Often what happens to inexperienced yogis (definitely happened/s to me) is that you’re a bit like a sieve, full of leaks through which you lose much of the energy you’ve generated. Kind of like that hole in the pot.

Those leaks aren’t easy to control initially. There’s guidelines you can follow, to help you reduce and eventually stop any such leakages. But, there’s usually a few weaknesses (habits/samskaras) that are harder to stop than others.

And so you keep haemorrhaging energy until you can give them up.

Upon waking after my very rough four hours of sleep, post full moon/Guru Purnima, things were perfectly clear.

Illuminated, you could say.

Time to put away my emotional hooks and hang ups as much as possible. I know what they are – I crave feeling connected to others. I fear rejection because it’s been a theme in my life. I hate feeling alone because I’ve been alone much of my life. So I try to forge connections where perhaps there aren’t any. I seek kindred spirits, perhaps a little too intensely.

And its time to stop. No more allowing myself to carry dead weight – mine or anyone else’s. No holding on to people or things or ideas for the sake of it, hoping for change that never comes. Just… no more of that!!

Whatever happened this last full moon, I feel like I’ve been given a wakeup call. A very loud and clear surge of clarity and self respect!

Now, I feel like I’m rebuilding my yoga practice from the ground up. Starting with the vessels containing all the good health and energy I generate – my physical and emotional bodies.

So I’ve hauled myself into the dockyard for renovations, and not just a patch up job!

Time for me to start taking names (mine!) and kicking some ass (again, mine!).

Fittingly I’m also starting Muay Thai (kickboxing) again for the first time in over five years (a nice counterbalance to the stillness).

Its way past time for the fighter in me to come out and get rid of everything standing in the way of becoming physically, mentally and emotionally healthy.

Rock on!

~Svasti

Why I have a Guru – part 4

Tags

Astronomy vs Astrology, Chile, Essence Nature, Guru, Love, Meditation, Norse mythology, Overseas travel, Porridge, Runes, Sadhakas, Scotland, Snubbing your Guru, Summer gathering, Tantra, UK

This series of posts has once again, sat idly by for a few months now! For the full story, I recommend that you read part 1, part 2, and part 3 first… ‘course, if you don’t want to, then just read this one…

I didn’t see my Guru for two years, and it’s not that he wasn’t in town or I that didn’t know about it.

He was, and I did… A (my ex, and one of his kung fu and rune students) took great delight in telling him – she doesn’t want to see you – which he told me about after the fact.

A’s actions didn’t make me happy exactly. But I’d been a little miffed at how hard it’d been to contact my Guru when I thought something kinda serious was happening (in retrospect, all I can say is… it wasn’t that serious). And that when he did get in touch, his letter didn’t really help me. So, I consciously avoided spending time with my future-Guru.

Then, in late 2000 I planned something of a whirlwind trip – the UK, Scotland and Chile. The runic tradition I studied (as mentioned in part 2) was based in the UK, and was having a summer gathering of sorts, somewhere mid-north east of London.

Scotland was for spending time with friends and extended family, and Chile was to hang out with a friend who’d moved there to be with her astronomist husband (note: never ask an astronomist their star sign!).

Little did I know my Guru would be attending the same gathering. He was there to see his runic teacher – another pretty amazing person – actually descended from Norse nobility; the family tradition of this man (rune breathing, weapons-based martial arts, healing, mythology, trance work etc) was what we’d all been learning. He’d originally taught my Guru and three other people his family’s oral tradition, and then asked those four to spread the teachings.

It was via this rather circuitous path, I’d met my Guru. And this gathering was to pay our respects, learn from the master himself, and train with others who studied the same thing.

Thousands of miles from home, somehow my Guru and I both ended up in the same place at the same time. Camping in a field opposite a very old church and eating stodgy English porridge for breakfast.

We re-connected immediately, as if the last two years never happened. He asked why I’d stayed away, and although we talked about it, those reasons no longer seemed to matter – our connection was unblemished.

That week, luxuriating (NOT!) in the damp English Spring weather, we bonded again practicing martial arts, and discussing Norse philosophy.

At the end of the gathering, I found myself on a train back to London with my Guru and two Scandinavian guys, with an offer to share a couple of days and a room with my Guru before the next part of my journey.

It’s a time I remember with much affection. All teachers have their ‘teacher’ mode, and then there’s off-duty time. This is what we shared, and I delighted in his goofy silliness and incredible curiosity.

We did martial arts training in Hyde Park, tracked down a funny little shop that sold hand-carved walking sticks, did laundry, watched movies, listened to music in a Virgin megastore, went into expensive hotel lobbies to find out the cost of their over-priced rooms, ate out and of course… just talked.

We discussed Tantra, Hindu philosophy and our future student/teacher relationship. He did his practice at night on the edge of his bed, while I slowly faded into dream-ridden slumber, the kind that means I get sonambulently talkative. Awake or asleep, there was no mistaking my fear.

Yet he answered all my dumbass questions, and was outrageously indulgent of my desire to discuss every inane detail of my relationship breakdowns. I spilled my guts about things I never tell anyone! He listened, didn’t judge and slowly kept bringing my awareness back to one or two small practices he’d already got me working on.

Here was a clearly remarkable man. Definitely, not like any person I’d ever met. And for some reason, our paths crossed not once, but twice. He offered mysteriously enticing knowledge, the details of which we only lightly touched on, and for good reason (it’s not easy for the untrained western mind to grasp the multi-layered nuances of yogic philosophy)…

More, he never really seemed to look at my my external physicality. It was as though he saw something behind material form (I’ve noticed him do this many times since then).

But I was scared and uncertain, which of course I expressed. He said there was no hurry, and I shouldn’t take initiation unless it was what I wanted. In the mean time, there were things I could do to explore this new knowledge.

He gave me book titles to find and read, preparatory exercises to do (with a much fuller explanation this time), people back in Sydney to get in touch with, and there would be a retreat the following year in Canberra he wanted me to attend – so I’d see him again within a few months.

After two full days of being roommates, we parted company. I, to South London on an errand for my mother before I flew to Scotland. He, to Canada – he’d invited me to join him but regrettably I already had other plans.

Yet I was over the moon, joyous to have shared private time with him like that.

Years later, I remember my Guru speaking of the moment where sadhakas are suddenly faced with a reflection of their Essence Nature looking at them from the eyes of another. Immediate knowledge descends, that the person attached to those eyes can help you eventually recognise this within yourself – no longer just a reflection.

Although it would be another four years before I took formal initiation, I count our shared time in London as my first concious moment of recognition. But definitely not the last, or the most intense.

To be continued…

~Svasti

Hari Om Tat Sat Pattabhi Jois

Tags

Compassion, Guru, Hari Om Tat Sat, Meditation, Pattabhi Jois, Permaculture, Yoga

As he passes from this earthly realm, let us offer thanks for the work Pattabhi Jois in spreading yoga to the masses.

Some of the many tribute articles:

• Yoga Dork – This Too Shall Pass: Sri K. Pattabhi Jois Dead at 93
• Hindu.com -Yoga exponent Pattabhi Jois dead
• Beliefnet – Pattabhi Jois is Dead
• Linda’s Yoga Journey – In memoriam: Sri K. Pattabhi Jois
• Ashtanga News: Reactions on Pattabhi Jois’ death 3 days later

And, his official website – the Astanga Yoga Institute.

Interestingly, my next post (before I heard of Pattabhi Jois’ passing) was going to be part 4 of my ‘Why I have a Guru‘ series. It’s still on the way, very soon in fact (just tidying up a few things).

I don’t know a great deal about Pattabhi Jois. I’ve never studied Astanga in-depth, although I’ve done Astanga-style classes and I’m aware of Sri Pattabhi’s contributions to yoga. But without doubt, he has been a Guru for many people.

Many times, I’ve contemplated with gratitude the presence of my own Guru in my life. Which of course, also means I’ve contemplated the inevitable time when that will no longer be the case. This might be due to his passing, or perhaps in the latter part of his life he’ll decide to renounce teaching in favour of solo practice. However it happens, eventually he won’t be around.

I’ve thought a lot about what that’d be like. Undoubtedly, it would be sad, but I couldn’t be unhappy, I think. It’d be difficult to feel anything except gratitude.

In my life to date, not counting any further exchanges I might share with him, my Guru has given me more than any other person I know – meditation and yoga instruction (second to none), love, compassion, generosity, new thought paradigms, understanding of sacred texts, a second home (in Thailand), an interest in permaculture, and most importantly a vivid depiction of someone who lives and breathes everything he teaches.

Additionally, he’s shown me how to be a serious yogi without taking myself or my path too seriously.

While it’s not something everyone would choose (and certainly, this path seemed to choose me more than anything), finding myself with a Guru has been one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. And I say that in the face of having my delusions painfully stripped away at every turn. In fact, I’m grateful for the view of the world I’ve been given, no matter what else may come my way.

The following is a small prayer I offer at the end of my meditation/yoga practices and today I dedicate it to Pattabhi Jois:

Salutations and blessings to the Gurus and Wisdom Masters

May they continue their work to benefit all beings

Shining their light as always, without preference

Hari Om Tat Sat!

~Svasti