21 May 2015

We are not alone. So do you.

Here I am sitting at my favorite kind of table. Thick wooden. Angular and big.
The fact is that I’m only using a 1/10 of the whole piece. The remaining 9/10 is pretty relaxing to just look at.

But nope, I’m not at Starbucks. I'm caving in at a homely studio along East Coast Road. Much earlier before my class starts at 7pm.

Settling myself in to write or read something after a busy day since morning.

It was indeed a hot day today. I’ve taken too much train rides recently. I opted for the longer route by bus. Don’t know since when, I started to develop a habit of taking different options.

My bad sense of direction hasn’t been very helpful at all.  
All I can say is---
My duration of being walking up and down the same street has shortened. A little.

Bumpy bus ride. Body temperature went down gradually. My eyes were gazing at the passing streets.
At the back of my mind when passively alert, minimizing my chances of getting down at the wrong stop. The low buzzing engine was hypnotizing. I nearly dozed off.

Spacing out--- a heap of thoughts poured in…

I am not good enough.

Why my other friends seem to have perfect lives, but here I am being so unhappy about mine?

Why everyone looks so happy except me?

Why the others can have such a nice practice, but mine look so clumsy and messed up?

I’m not good enough.

But my dear students, how do you know?
Just how do you know that they are not?

How do you know how much effort they are putting in to manage the setbacks in life? The amount of effort they are putting in each of their practice?

We don’t know.
So stop. Just stop. 

Thus the justification of us victimizing ourselves is purely, a waste of time and effort. 
It’s zero helpfulness. Nothing.

Every one of us is carrying our own baggage of nonsense. Everyone.

Nobody don’t. We just like to pretend to be fine and happy all the time.

Every stranger we see on the street. If we speak to them long enough, you will know in this way--- we are indifference.
Once while I thought my problem was the biggest problem in the whole world.
Nobody would be experiencing that much pain than I did.

I was shamelessly wrong.

Next time if you feel like you have touched the dead-end.
Try this.
Hold your breath till you gasp.
There! This is life.

Where there is breath, there is life.
Where there is life, there is hope.

And so, every morning I wake up.
Learning to be grateful for being able to breathe at ease.

All others things that follow, is already a bonusJ

15 April 2015

Resuming into routine. Same spot. Many different thoughts.

It’s been a while since I get myself to doodle on the keyboard.
Today is a good day.
Today is the right mood to get my fingers to dance in prints of thoughts.

Done with an early morning class. No practice on ladies holiday.
I slot my Mac Air in my bag and headed out.
I like dawn. My mind is clearer and I get to enjoy every bloom of the morning, better.

I go to the same Starbucks every time when I’m in town; the one just beside Wheelock.
More accurately, I like the bench- table that smacks right in the middle of the interior.
It seems to be tailored according to my physical measurements.

I would always take on the same corner seat, facing the glass door; that’s my comfortable spot.

At least my short-distanced lower limbs get a leg-rest, instead of dangling in the mid-air. Tucked myself under the table—and everything sets off after a sip of coffee or tea. 

Today, I had an Americano. It tasted less sour than the last time I had it (many months ago), I prefer it this way.
Sometimes, we could possibly know the outcome of the beverage just by looking at the person who prepares it--- in this case, he is in a good mood.

Cozy and spacy, many of my blog posts and creative ideas happened here.

Most students got their engine started on regular practice—I get to see some of them more often.

It was interesting to see where the practice has taken them.
To take their practice beyond the physical plane, I would usually want to have a quick post-practice chat.

I’m happy that this time, they are starting to break down into pieces in front of me. And I’ve gotten used of tears and wailing.

Revealing a little of what’s under those layers, it makes my work--- of working with them back on the mat easier.

Fortunately, most didn’t like how I was “ hammering” them initially.

But were relieved and happy to drop the cover of pretense to let out--- and allowing me to see what they had been hiding inside them all these while.

The trip to Mysore, India last year, those lessons slowly came into light when I resume teaching.

" A good teacher doesn’t pamper the students."

~ Sharath Jois, addressing to the question on the quality of a teacher during the weekly conference.

11 February 2015

A Worthy Barter Trade.

15 more days and its time to depart for home, I’m counting my days left in Mysore.

I miss my clean nails, well-managed hair, uncracking heels, clean drinking water straight from the tap, walking the street with a little more peace of mind, clean air, the convenience of public transport, consuming ice cubes, salads & sushi without having to think about chances of getting bad tummy, dustless floor…

I am a city girl after all.

4am, what will you be doing at this time friends?
Snoozing in dreamland, maybe?

I’m standing in the bathroom, looking at my messed up  hair, half-woken face… brushing my teeth. 

4.30am, what will you doing at this time friends?
Flipping over the otherside getting into a comfortable sleeping position, maybe?

I sat down in the dining area in a quiet morning, sipping coffee in hope to widen my eyes… before heading out.

Sometimes, walking along the dim-lite street at wee hour to the shala, I thought…
“ What am I doing at this hour going for practice… it is just bizarre”

Sometime in life is like that, isn’t it?
Everyday dogs encounter in a morning walk
There is a core and all other stuff just revolves around. 

Somehow, in some way, when we set our eyes on that ONE thing…. we learn how to stop sweating over the small stuffs. 

I constantly remind myself the intention of being in Mysore— not be get suck into the whirlpool of distractions that may deviate me from my personal learning. 

For the fact that, it is not a simple decision to put aside 3 months in Mysore--- the many months before of constant preparation (just to make this trip happen) was also part of the practice. 

Mysore is not a holiday. It’s not a time that we get comfortable or an escape from our problems.

There is a skeleton of disciplined routine we frame ourselves onto--- In that space, in fact, we are digging into our personal issues one by one, laying them in front us—a self-confrontation, is a dirty job.

Along side with the daily practice (without having to worry about work schedule), we learn to figure out a way to manage… there’s just nothing else to busy about except on ourselves.

It is a worthy barter trade of temporary material comfort for lifelong invaluable knowledge. 

We take this gift of knowledge back home, and use it in reality of the world that we are living. Re-entering our world a better person than we first left off.