Yoga Or Die

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Autumn, carbon-based bipeds, Change, chanting, Chogyam Trungpa, Crazy Wisdom Dude, emptiness, gap-world, Love, Meditation, Melbourne, pas de deux, seasons, spaciously vacant, Summer, Yoga, Yoga Or Die

Summer is phasing in and out, performing its pas de deux with Autumn as Melbourne heads back at a leisurely pace into it’s grey wintry world. For the long haul. A blast of cooler air here. Dazzling sun rays streaking through a gap in the clouds looking like one of those paintings where the Big Man In the Sky talks to the people on Earth. A sudden downpour, followed by warmth and humidity reminiscent of early January. The flowers and leaves changing. Darker mornings and a lessened desire to get out of bed as a result.

In this world, I’m finding my feet more and more. And my balance and inversions, too. And discovering that for me at least, there’s no other choice. It’s a little bit like Yoga Or Die. Sure, we’re all dying anyway – don’t you know that the main cause of death is birth? But for me in this life there’s little else that’s important, so it seems.

Sure, there’s my teachers and family and friends and books and dancing and music. But I’m not that enamoured of fashion, eating in fancy restaurants, big cars, having the most toys or anything else. Go ahead and mock my lack of a fancy new flat screen TV if you like, I’ll just giggle at the supposed importance of that inanimate ‘must have’ object or anything else you think my life is lacking.

A simple life seems to bring me more than enough contentment. As long as there’s yoga and chanting, beautiful colours and poetry, candles and easy access to gorgeous natural surrounds then I’m pretty much all good. And hey, is there anything I can do for you? Anything that you need? Being of service fits in right alongside my simple needs, too.

I know that I’ve been a little slack on the frequency of my posts lately. There’s been my recent spate house guests and also, dropping into what that Crazy Wisdom Dude (aka Chogyam Trungpa) called “gaps”.

Yeah, it’s a little weird in here right now and any time I find out that that’s where I am, I have to remember the secret of functioning effectively here before anything else is possible (P.S. one of the key ingredients is LOVE). But more often than not, I find in that kind of space I don’t feel like doing anything in particular. Not even writing, much as I love and rely on it at other times. Much as I’ve got lots to say and plenty of draft pieces lying in wait.

And I know I’m sitting in one of those gaps when my thoughts turn to the complete beauty and yet utter pointlessness of everything. Not in a depressive frame of mind – I’ve had plenty of that and I can tell you this is WAY different. In fact, these days I suspect that some of those episodes of depression were in fact, gap-flavoured. Maybe that’s how some of them started off in the first place?

Because the thing about gap-world is that it feels starkly empty and spaciously vacant. And more often than not, that makes carbon-based bipeds with a tendency towards awareness feel rather neurotic or anxious or both. What’s wrong with me? we ask… (The answer, actually, is “Nothing”. But we rarely believe such home-spun truths).

And so we try to work out how to fill all that space instead of just letting it be.

But if you can keep your hands and your thoughts to yourself, it’s a bit of a free-fall at first, and quite terrifying. Kind of like falling asleep in the way we renounce control of our faculties (which is also said to be similar to the change of the guard when we die) except that we’re awake. Awake and yet not anywhere in particular. But of course that can be frightening!

Slowly, like Autumn’s certain advance, I find I begin to notice this emptiness is in fact not empty at all. It’s just a world apart from the usual busy day to day-ness of most of the rest of the time. And it’s not so scary afterall.

All the spaciousness that characterises gap-world is like an extended meditation where nothing is the focus and nothing is the result. However, it does leave room for an expansion of sorts. More often than not what I notice is the size of my heart. It feels like it’s grown at least as big as my entire body, if not larger.

And it speaks it’s very own language as it generates waves of love and compassion for everything in this world, including myself…

~Svasti

Summer Christmas Wishes

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Childhood memories, Christmas, Egg-nogg, Garbos, Horse drawn sleigh, Presents, Roast dinner, Santa, Seafood, Skiing, Summer

It’s a funny thing being on the ‘other side of the world’ from whence our ancestors came… and so our customs and traditions, whilst hailing from the north, are often out of synch with the seasons.

Here in the far, far south, as far away as those Brits could manage to create a penal colony… it’s mid-summer, not winter (although sometimes lately you wouldn’t know it, crazy weather).

For years, grown up Aussies have been trying to explain to kiddies why we have snow on Christmas cards, and why Santa doesn’t get hot wearing that thick coat when he delivers presents down here.

I’ve often craved a wintery Christmas experience (which might sound crazy to those of you who live in it). In fact, I still plan to bugger off to Austria or Canada one year, ride in a horse drawn sleigh, drink egg-nog, actually have to wrap up warmly, go skiing, and enjoy that hefty wintery roast dinner.

My family’s Christmas traditions for years did include the roast dinner and all the trimmings – try eating that in the heat! But in the last half a dozen years we wised up. Now its all seafood smorgasbord – baked fish, salmon, crab, mussels, oysters (eeeww to the former two), prawns, scallops – and on it goes. Fresh Australian seafood. Mmmmm…

Childhood Christmas memories are of stinking hot days tearing around in a swimsuit and jumping in the backyard pool my dad built. Splashing about, possibly with our new inflatable pool presents or diving rings or the like… or riding our new bikes out front… some years driving from one end of town to the other, squished in the back of the car, fighting amongst ourselves, probably in uncomfortable heat… visiting one set of grandparents for lunch and one for the  evening meal (leaving us very full).

For several years we had a ‘neighbourhood Santa’ – a guy sitting on the back of a station wagon dressed in a red suit, throwing lollies to the kids on Christmas Eve. Never found out who he was. Try ‘n’ get away with that these days!

All the fathers in the street would give a case of beer to the garbos [Aussie slang for garbage collectors] in the week leading up to Christmas. There was a definite sense of community… less about commercialism, more about people having a good time.

It was never (fortunately for me), a particularly religious time. Which is just as well given I seem to have been a born pagan/heathen. My family were basically without religion or any kind of spirituality.

By far, the most prominent childish Christmas memory is my excitement about the magic of it all. Before I didn’t, I really and truly believed in Santa. I was a child of faeries and mysteries. It seemed quite reasonable that a fat guy in a red suit could pull off the great present delivery once a year.

So, it was always hard to go to sleep. Then I’d wake up like clockwork before dawn, creeping out of the room my sister and I shared… to the lounge room where, to my delight, were three over-sized Christmas themed pillow-cases hung over the back of dining room chairs and packed full of presents!!

As middle child, my sack was in the center. I’d carefully, quietly unpack each new toy one at a time. Checking to see if Santa had read my letter and given me what I desired. After re-packing everything in reverse, if I hadn’t been ordered back to bed yet, I’d then systematically check my sister’s then my brother’s sacks too!

I never ever swapped anything, but I’d wake my sister up when I’d finished my investigations to tell her Santa had been, trying to drag her out of bed to see for herself. If she didn’t come, I’d start telling her what Santa had brought her! 😉

My parents always heard me at some point – get back to bed now – they knew I’d be up, like the ghost of Christmas present, haunting the goodies til it was ‘official’ get out of bed time.

That waking up early thing on Christmas day, it lasted a long time. Twas my late teens actually, before I was able to kick that unconscious habit.

Wishing you all a wonderful day, however you celebrate…

~Svasti

P.S. For a very different and very beautiful take on an Aussie Christmas… read AnthroYogini’s Deep Desert Christmas!

My throat is a ghetto for germs

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Australia, Ayurvedic remedy, Christmas, Dinacharya, Dosha, Dyslexia, Gargle, Germs, Ghetto, Hot male nurse, Neti pot, Summer, Throat infection, Turmeric, Twitter

A certain someone (remaining nameless to protect the hypocritical) jokingly accused me of ripping content I’d used in private conversations for blog post material. Well, derr! 😉

Hence the title of this post… something I Twittered earlier today.

Its two days before Christmas – and don’t forget, folks, its summer down here in the wonderful land of Oz – and I’m sick.

The whole left right (there goes my dyslexia) side of my throat feels like I’ve got a huge chunk of heated metal shoved down my mouth and lodged there, kinda underneath my jawline. Glands are up, throat is raging, and my head feels kinda mushy.

Went for a short walk down to the corner shop earlier and well, it wasn’t exactly an experience of normality. And just now, I awoke from a deep sleep and its only 9.30pm.

I’m not a very good sick patient. I sulk, a little. I’m a touch pathetic. Makes me wish I didn’t live alone – oh, for a compassionate (and hot) male nurse to bring me endless pots of green tea and tend to my every whim! (All I want for Christmas…)

But I digress.

I wanted to introduce two of my favourite sore throat fighting weapons – they’re usually very effective, but today… not so much. Clearly these germs haven’t run their course, and need further applications.

Sore throat weapon #1: Turmeric & sea salt gargle

This is an Ayurvedic remedy.

Mix up some warm water, sea salt and turmeric. Don’t ask me for measurements – I pretty much just shove in there whatever seems to be right.

It’s disgusting – but make a big glass. Then systematically, suck a mouthful back at a time and gargle for as long as you can stand it. Repeat. Eventually you’ll wanna rinse your mouth with plain water.

If you don’t have turmeric, try cayenne pepper.

Sore throat weapon #2: Neti pot

Folks, let me introduce you to my neti pot. Sure, it kinda looks like a mini watering can. And it is – just not for plants.

It’s my bestest friend on the health front after yoga and meditation. It’s also a tool of dinacharya (as is gargling really) – the daily practice of taking care of your physical body and health (which I only tend to do parts of).

Perhaps it’s not immediately obvious, but there’s a major connection between the health of the sinuses and the throat. I mean, think about it… the sinuses are filters that do their best to keep all the unwanted external world goop from permeating our bodies. But eventually it accumulates and then… drip, drip, drip… your throat is the first port of call.

So, good sinus health = good throat and then lung health.

Note: It’s best to get a proper run down from someone before having a go at this for yourself. But just briefly, you create a salt water mixture that’s around body temperature and about as salty as your tears. If burns, the mixture is too salty.

To start, tilt your head to one side, insert the nozzle in your nostril and let the water flow out through the other one. Not out your mouth. Once you’re halfway through the water supply, swap nostrils and reverse the flow.

This can be repeated as many times as necessary although it’s important to clear out the excess water in between – which includes much blowing of the nose and some bastrika breath performed bent over with your head down.

Neti can be performed every day if required although it’s a good idea to consider your dosha (constitution) first – for some people… all that water on the brain ain’t a good idea!

It can however, feel quite amazing. Not just in the sinuses either.

So… this is what I’ll be doing again very shortly. Trying in desperation to: a) make it to my team’s Christmas lunch tomorrow (knock off at 12 noon), and; b) ensure I’m in one piece on the 25^th for the annual family seafood cook up (seafood is a better option than heavy roast dinner in summer)…

~Svasti