I am learning today is how strong the effect is of self-imposed unfreedom. I only gave myself a couple of restrictions and it was enough to choke me for a day. Without the restrictions I might have written about the auspicious changes of the weather that happened during a walk along the beach: it seemed to interplay with nature of the conversation I was having. Or I could have written about the musicians that I saw on the streets of Byron Bay and their magical talent. But just the simple fact that I took on a few quite innocent restrictions led me into a place where it became very difficult to maneuver.
This morning I went to collect my hippie campervan. As we are going through the procedures and they are trying to sell me all kinds of additional insurance we find out that I have to pay a bond of only $2550,- which is €2039,-. My credit card bounced and this is – most likely and hopefully – because it has a limit of €2000,- (I am not broke but the card could be broken, that would really suck). And the company regulations allowed for ZERO alternatives. Fucking annoying. I could not pay cash, nor via their website, not via PayPal and I certainly could not just give them $2499,39 (equals €2000,-) with my credit card and give them the other $50,61 out of my back pocket. Bureaucratic obstacles and stupid rigidity makes me want to smack people.
I just finished cleaning up the kitchen of my host Simon. It is kind of a grey day and I felt like doing something but gave myself permission to keep it more or less indoors since I will be on the road for a month or so. So I guessed it would a kind thing to do, to do the dishes. While I was doing the dishes I felt a sense of gratitude and meaning. I feel that perhaps the most important thing to life is caring. Caring seems to be an expression of love and selflessness. There is something holy and dignified about doing the dishes. Every cup and plate gets a bit of attention and bit of warm water. It is thanked for his services and prepared for the next time it is needed.
When you meet Satya for the first time you might get the impression that she is fragile. This impression won’t last long. Her frame might not be very big; her presence is undeniable. By looking into her clear brown eyes you might feel that you are drowning but you are not. You will notice that she is actually holding you and that you are completely safe. It is a very rare feeling
Satya was born in 1960 under the name of Katiza Ivulic. She grew up in a warm family in Chile. As long as she remembers she felt more than others and was deeply in touch with nature. If her mother would ask the little girl to pick a flower to use for decoration she would walk into the garden to find the flower. Once she would stand before the flower with the scissors in her little hand she realized she couldn’t do it. It was just impossible for her to hurt the flower.
Internally I had a few terrible days but superficially they were amazing. We went to visit the Maha Rishi who was assisted by the Gusti and she had a message for me. Dewa the Balinese healer paid us a surprise visit this morning and did a session with me. All these people have special powers, I personally witnessed a couple of otherworldly things. I had a couple of beautiful conversations with Satya, also a pretty magnificent human being. Regardless, I was being eaten alive inside. I felt being dragged from disappointment to disappointment. And then, after the chi qong class of Sahaj (that obviously sucked in my eyes but was received annoyingly positive by my fellow students) I feel that the veil is being lifted. It is almost embarrassing; when I was asked to share my experience at the end of the class I was so dark and negative and a couple of minutes later I can almost physically see the darkness dissolve. Where did it go?
I feel quiet and peaceful. I am happy with my new place: the Agama yoga school and around. I just like being in a practice environment: to be in a place where everybody is working on the deepening of his or her awareness. To start the day with 2 hours of meditation followed by fresh fruit and inspiring conversation, what more do I want? I am meeting nice people with clear eyes, beautiful smiles and an aura of peacefulness and calmness. I have met personal trainers, osteopaths, English teachers, chiropractors, software programmers and lawyers. Must of us work in the field of body, mind and/ or spirit or aspire to do so.
Now and then I receive really cool and heartwarming emails. Because they are personal I don’t feel free to disclose them. But this time I received a poem, for me and about me, from a young Indian man. And since he has published his poetry before I feel free to publish this poem here. I am touched by the fact that somebody made the effort to write a poem about me. Thank you, Ravi.
It was amazing to just receive impersonal feminine tenderness and love. It made me feel good about myself and I feel that feeling good about ourselves is a universal human need. So often and on so many levels we don’t feel good about ourselves. And when it comes to sex and intimacy we also find many reasons not to feel good about our performance or our experience. Or we do feel proud about our performance and it becomes an ego-thing, creating separation (I was better than others). The exercise made me feel strong, appreciated, accepted, wanted, loved and masculine. Basically how any man likes to feel about himself, with or without a relationship. Oh, and let me not forget: I felt deeply grateful for the Shakti energy.
It is just 28 people in a circle, holding hands with their eyes closed. There is cool house music. The instruction was to step out of the circle if the energy would get too strong. This sounded quite ridiculous to me. During the exercise I thought I felt something. I wonder if it is my imagination. I start to feel nauseous. I open my eyes to see if other people are stepping out of the circle. Nobody is. I conclude that I must be exaggerating. Then white light starts to pump through my body and it goes higher and higher till it explodes out of my head.
I feel totally peaceful as a wake up from a deep sleep. I hear nice voices around me; angels are taking care of me. I am on the floor. I am comfortable and want to stay there. I hear that there is blood: I’m bleeding. I realize that I must have fallen on the floor. I have a gash in my eyebrow.
Although I am approaching the summit, I am getting more and more exhausted. I am wondering, either Ladakhi’s have a completely different concept of a baby trek or I am on the wrong path. And if I am on the wrong path the buildings that I can barely see at the top could be a deserted monastery and I will have to sleep in an improvised place. I found some melting ice and an old hunters hut so I would have some water and shelter. I would be cold but I was sure I would be ok. The other thought that crossed my mind was: what if I make to the buildings and it indeed turns out to be a monastery and I am welcomed by some ultimately cool enlightened master?