It’s only the beginning

And I was literally just making daisy chains in my backyard. Starting something new can sometimes seem a bit bigger than Ben Hur. Take this term of teaching…how the crap was I going to teach art? Needless to say, I absolutely love it to bits.  So inspired by the amazing works that young people can just churn out. Sadly though, often not believing in themselves…’it’s a bit fail Miss’…really? You could have fooled me! And therein lies the rub, we don’t know how great we are or can be and sadly for some that doesn’t change.

Shel served up santosha in a truly lush class this morning. I will miss those classes girl, I think I’ll have to bottle them. Contentment as I have come to understand it is knowing that we are enough and we have enough at any given point in time. The belief that we need something external to fill a void is the biggest marketing con around. We can get satisfaction…a breath of air when the rain has passed…a dive in the ocean first thing in the morning…the smell of coffee in the air. Simplicity and the serendipity that these things bring is priceless. Excuse the Master Card (?) analogy here.

I’ve tried finding contentment by looking to things in the future, but that just led to a 3am wake up call. A favourite teacher of mine has a quote that I find golden: being present is the most profound thing we can do for ourselves and in turn others.

Alanis Morisette also reinforces this in her lines: ’the rest is still unwritten’.  It’s quite amazing to sit on your grass at dusk and make daisy chains, who would want to be anywhere else?

Pure and simple…what is this yoga thing all about?

As I watch Wall Street in the background whilst checking my emails, I am finding that less is more and what is one man’s trash is indeed treasure to another.  Saucha is the focus for my teacher’s classes this week. Purity and cleanliness are two lay translations of this niyama (spiritual observation). After cleaning out my room today in preparation for the move north, I did feel lighter as a result of more physical space. And of course cleanliness isn’t just a physical thing, but nor is it a fanatical thing for that matter.

After my evening yoga class, I shared some of my Francsco riesling with my flatty. On appearances, not that I’m trying to justify, this choice of beverage may not seem the most pure.  However, on a Sunday and as a gesture of sharing, to me that does have connotations of cleanliness, as it allows me to clean my slate of greed.  Sharing lets people in and what a gift this is. Not more than two minutes after we agreed Wall Street was a waste of time, I received an email about an upcoming yoga workshop in Melbourne next year – and this is where the greed bit steps in.

I am a reformed workshop junkie, which is one of the reasons I have had many a Carrie Bradshaw moment of being the woman that lives in her shoes. But rather in my case, it was the woman that lives in an asana session, notebook in hand and mind often wandering to the next workshop on my agenda. And I had this sense of having to do it all now and then I’d feel dirty for selling myself out by working extra to pay for my greed. And the thing is, the sense of uncleanliness starts to creep up on you, as you realise that you are not digesting anything, You are merely moving from one place to the next, without rinsing off the mud so to speak.

So having the voice of my Radiant Light teacher in my head, I was able to look at this flier for what it was. Testing, tempting, but ultimately tiring. I am so blessed to be given the gift of yoga teaching. As I drove to teach restorative tonight, I listened to Akash’s voice and it at many a time brought a tear to my eye. For the immense sense of wow that I am where I am. For the ‘wow’ response from a new student with a background in cross fit. How ace is yoga that it can offer such profound transformations!

Akash also talks a lot about dharma and of not straying from our path.  So for me that means spending a moment to myself before I go to sleep. To remind myself to listen and to allow. To slow down and breathe. And to do what I tell my students to: be kind to myself and others. So yoga is many things to me, but most of all it is home. And I don’t have to be a workshop junkie anymore to find that; but rather just find my own mat.

Into the valley of the Kings without a shadow of doubt.

Once upon a fine Saturday morning, two girls venture into the wilds of the King Valley.  Frocked up, soundtrack ready and handbags in hands. A day on the green in the sunshine it was…a day of feeling blessed by the good things. It’s funny how a morning can prove hectic and feel at times hopeless, but then there comes the relief that lies in a cup of Melburnian coffee and terracotta baked eggs.  Thankyou Whitfield’s Mountain View Pub. Patience again proving to be a virtue..that and the power of persuasion in encouraging my friend to join me.

Francesco was the first stop and also my favourite, as it had soul and simplicity. My two wine purchases were at the first and last wineries, as they both ticked these two boxes.  And ps they both had great names…Francesco and Avalon. After a few appetite inducing tipples, the gnocchi fiesta at Pizzini proved worthy of being on our itinerary. Serenaded in Italian as we were eating our gnocchi...little piece of heaven right there.  And we both showed impressive restraint when it came to consumption of wine and food. We had our fix: cannoli, prosecco  and not to mention being pursued by cute boys at bocce J Ah, the Italians really do have it figured out...a sweet life is found in joy. There was no fast food here. It was cooked with love by the nonnas in the kitchen, the wine made with grapes that were sun kissed and then harvested at the right time. There is a strong scent of love wafting through the hills that enclose this beautiful valley.

Roses are one of my favourite flowers, particularly so as they remind me of my beloved nonna. Her roses gave her joy. It buffered her from the elements of life that at times aren’t as blissful. I discovered that roses in vineyards serve as protection for the vines. When the roses are attacked, that’s the warning sign to cover the fruits of one’s labour.

And I love that idea that something beautiful like a rose serves to protect something as precious as one’s livelihood but also one’s passion. We could all do with a buffer in life, or even a few. Something as simple as the smell of a newly blossoming rose or as complicated as stepping outside of your comfort zone by trying new things.

Salute to the Italians, for reminding us to celebrate life.  

Moment o….orgasmic moments

Oh yes. The ‘Oh my God what just happened’ moments that don’t need minties, as they serve to landmark our life.  Wow moments are priceless and found only when we stop…right where we are.  This week was all about aparigraha – the yogic yama that translates as non grasping or clinging. I actually had an experience of this last week when I let go of what I thought my life should look like.  I put many plans in place for 2013 and I wasn’t really sure of what would come back. Between Queensland, Melbourne and Sydney, Sydney was the one that landed in my lap. Grasping as I had been to the idea of continuing my yoga training in Queensland, I was left with the simple fact that the timing was wrong.  

So whilst reminding myself to breathe deeply to keep the panic attacks at bay, I surrendered somewhat. OK, Balmain…change and opportunity in a different way to what I was thinking. Strangely enough however, I had always been drawn to this area. There is a bittersweetness to life. Leichhardt is one of my favourite suburbs whilst at the same time being a graveyard for one of my closest friends.  Funnily enough, I feel it is this friend who will be by my side as I traverse the physical and emotional territory which is part and parcel of moving. He reminded me to laugh and I fondly remember literally feeling as if my sides were going to split at times in his company. Orgasmic moment.

Orgasms are like dreams. They tend to have a better chance of happening if we let go of the reigns, so to speak. And for a recovering control freak like yours truly, it takes persistence. We all have a little voice, guiding us on our journey. For me it is literally a gut feeling. And listening to it at times takes letting go of others’ voices on the subject.

My friends know me well as the one who will take a certain path and continue to second guess it many a time. Trust is scary, but for the most part the reward is worthy.  And so it was that last Friday morning, tired from tearing apart my life plans, my emotional zipper came undone. Aisle eight of my local coles, tears like no tomorrow.  Grateful for the inappropriate attire that is indoor sunglasses, I was able to safely shade my sadness. And looking back having a giggle at what was simply the shedding of a layer. I can choose to always think that the grass is greener somewhere else or I can receive with open arms the opportunities that come my way.

A moment to myself...the artistry of dating

Macy Gray waxed lyrical on this very subject in her first album. ‘I’m gonna ride with no one else’, she goes on to say, in an anthem that for me reinforced the importance of an artist date. I was introduced to this concept by Julia Cameron, who wrote that book that freed many an artist in hiding: ‘The Artist’s Way’. In this, she talks of taking your artist self out on a good old fashioned date. 

Confession time... I love taking myself to the movies – especially the trash chick flicks. But an artist date goes one step further – doing something that enables your creative self to sparkle. Needing some sparkle, I drove myself to Rutherglen for a recent spell of artist dating. And the experience exceeded my expectations.  Wine, table under the trees, weekend papers, musical birds in the background... am I painting a convincing enough picture for you?

It is often the case that the lead up to an event is often more anxiety provoking than the event itself.  I whinged to my barista buddy that my actual date had cancelled and I didn’t really feel like going it alone. A feeling along the lines of how I would look being the only one dining alone.  To which she responded with a look of confusion and bewilderment. The day earlier I had paraded my proud independence before her as I shared my New York Christmas plans with her – my solo plans. We are indeed complex beings and one of the great things that going to a yoga class gives me is breathing into this. Take a breath, imagine…

John Lennon changed the world when he brought this song to the world. And it is one that I’d like to think still has the power to move mountains.

So you can imagine my barista’s confusion. She bragged about how good a place my Rutherglen winery is and gave me a good old ‘throw caution to the wind’ pep talk. And it was indeed a beaut place. And what’s more, often when you go it alone, you get all this attentive service and random conversation. And don’t get me started on the photo opps. I guess that was Julia’s point when she wrote about the whole dating thing.

And being the romantic that I am, I’m all about choosing places that I believe are great date worthy. In one of the lines from ‘Imagine’, we are asked to imagine a world without heaven.  And my response to that is that heaven is within us. We can either retreat or run from that fact. When I capture a gorgeous sunset with my camera lens, complemented by a melt-worthy soundtrack, I am often only left to wonder why I was ever hesitant of the solo experience in the first place.

And no date is complete without flowers. Beautiful white carnations are currently fragrancing my apartment with memories and the pertinent reminder to indeed seize the day.

The weight of the matter… Good things come in all shapes and sizes

Once spring springs, we get a call to remove our winter coat.  Last week, Monday to be exact, my zipper on last year’s summer frock failed to co-operate. And suddenly, my self esteem was shortly thereafter torn to shreds. My solution in this moment was to pass on said dress to my flatmate, in a rather deflated manner and don my pink salsa shoes for class. At least these still fit, I thought to myself, feeling somewhat like the protagonist from ‘In Her Shoes’. For those of you who haven’t seen this, the character played by Toni Colette builds up a wardrobe of beautiful shoes.  She looks at her body in disgrace, taking solace in the fact that shoes size is always a constant.

And the pink shoes did lift my mood.  Again, in a case of timing being everything, we were looking at the yama of truth in yoga class. Truly, dance class has and always will, make me feel good.  Madly, my reaction to un co-operative zipper.  Deeply, I needed to take an honest look at myself.

Yes, winter was the season of my discontent in terms of needing to rug up at all times. Me and winter have a somewhat love hate relationship. Hibernation became my modus operandi, I don’t need to bore you with the cuisine that would have accompanied this but if you visualise carb laden goodness you are on the right track.

So now the sun is well and truly shining. I have a job I love, holiday I’m stoked about and a great bunch of mates. But relationship with myself? Well that winter coat when I looked at it represented the things I didn’t want to look at. My asana practice had taken a back seat so that I could do more restorative. But I really learnt that a strong practice is indeed a mirror for a strong life.

Exposing ourselves to the world is a vulnerability inducing act, which I guess is one of the primary reasons I write this blog. To learn fearlessness by being vulnerable.  And to follow and create your own path, along with your self.  

My path thus far has provided me with training wheels at many points along the way.  These have come in the form of routines in varied degrees. Stepping out of my routine at the moment comes in the form of an aeroplane ticket, from which I will return to no fixed address.

I want life to allow life to be a question mark – an opportunity rather than an expectation. Because let’s face it, a book is all the more exciting when we leave the last chapter till the end. And as for the zipper, well let’s just say that it comes down to letting go of what causes us to gain weight and facing things for what they really are.  For me that means acceptance and embracing all that I have in life and not putting on rose coloured glasses when I view my past.   The strongest thing we can do sometimes is walk away and turn our backs on whatever doesn’t work, with the lessons tucked firmly in our back pocket.