If It Just Feels Right, It Is

The mind will talk endlessly, if you let it. Self-talk and thoughts come naturally, it’s effortless. The work is in quieting the mind to hear what you really need to. In a world full of distractions and easily accessible diversions, it takes a concerted effort to be alone in silence.

But, once you make it and spend time in the world where you let thoughts float on by, without judgment, you start to recognize patterns. You can categorize all the strings of words in your mind as “planning, judging, wanting, etc.” and you can watch them as they pass through, like a train carrying cargo. There’s a myth that one can fail at meditation if thoughts arise, but, that’s far from true because thoughts naturally occur. It’s the ability to notice them, let them pass, and make the effort to come back to the breath that makes all the difference.

With practice, you’ll start to feel more at ease during the day, when thoughts are at their peaks and difficult situations arise. And, after some time, your own personal north star will shine brighter, and you’ll have the confidence to follow its light, regardless of outside voices, and even the voice in your own head that can, at times, be discouraging. Because, at this point, the voice of your heart is taking over that of your mind, and it will just feel right, and that means, it is.

You’ll be aligned and able to be courageous in the steps you take to move forward. Once you start stepping on that path, things will fall into place, and it will seem like it’s been there all along waiting for you, but in actuality, the work was forged when you listened and took the chance on yourself for it all to come together. Wherever you’re at, keep going.

Advertisements

Perro Descendente

Last night, I went to a yoga class like never before.

I had zero expectations and was ready to do my downward dogs and chaturangas for the following 60 minutes. Classic of me – I was the first to arrive, even before the studio doors were open (because for me, early is on time and on time is late…except when you’re in Costa Rica and on time is obviously early).

The entire space was solely the room used for the practice, as opposed to having a lounge, shop, locker room, and various rooms like most places in Los Angeles do. There was so much beauty in the space’s simplicity. Form, only for function.

When you open the glass door to enter the studio, you immediately ascend a few stairs and then, there you are, on the wooden floor. Glass windows and doors surround the square floor as trees fill the views. To the left, there’s a sliding door the length of the room that opens to a small deck covered in trees.

This was the first time I was doing yoga in a dim lit room, to the sound of music and pouring rain, and, of course (a small element I had forgotten) in Spanish. The teacher, from the Netherlands, looked at me before beginning class and asked, “Class in Spanish ok?” Who am I to say no?  We are in Costa Rica, plus it’d be good for me to brush up on how to say body parts like chest (pecho), shoulders (hombros) and hips (calderas) in Español.

Midway through the class, the torrential downpour began. That’s how it is here – clear skies and then instantly a storm. It was the most peaceful and beautiful experience. The room would get flashes of brightness from the lightening and as we held each pose, I could focus on the sound of the raindrops, which like the sweat beads dripping down my face, flowed freely.

At the end of class, we ended in the pose that most yoga classes do – shavasana, or “corpse pose”(in Sanskrit, “Shava” means corpse and “Asana” means pose/seat). It’s a balance between relaxation and meditation, where you steady your mind and body completely as you lie in supine position. After the hour of poses, it’s a much appreciated position, and often times for me, the place where I really feel the benefits of the practice and completely mentally succumb. I also appreciate the fact that it is completely different each time.

I was so deeply into it that when the yoga teacher came over and unexpectedly touched my legs, I literally jumped. She did something no teacher has done during this pose. Taking my legs into her arms, she swung them back and forth like the motion of a hammock, then shook them up and down and quickly massaged each foot before laying it back on the floor. Immediately as my legs touched the ground, I could feel the blood rushing upwards, against the flow that comes so naturally with gravity, and felt the sensation moving towards my heart and head. It was magical. I then fell even deeper into the relaxation, so much so that it actually felt like my body was sinking into the floor. With the clapping sound of the rainfall, I imagined myself becoming a puddle of water, and felt almost disconnected from my own body, while still feeling it immensely from the inside out.

Needless to say, from the Spanish instructions (which admittedly made me feel anxious at first) to the nightfall, incense, music, dim lighting, storm outside and entire set up, the class was a magnificent way to end an otherwise mundane day.

 

Nomadic Inhabitant

It’s times like these when surroundings weigh heavy on the questions of meaning.

By definition, inhabit means to live or occupy (a place or environment). Right now, I’m inhabiting Costa Rica. This is the seventh country I have inhabited  in the past two and a half months. More importantly, I feel like my headspace has inhabited many different worlds. Everywhere I’ve been, I’m there, taking it all in, but different pieces of me are on display to both others and myself.

Here’s the thing about moving from place to place and not having a permanent home  – you discover things about yourself that only come up because of your surroundings. Especially when time is slowed down.

Costa Rica is very laid back. And, I don’t mean Los Angeles style chilling at Venice Beach laid back. I mean, people say “good morning” at 2:30 PM, they run on “tico time,” which basically just means time is a figment of imagination, there are no street addresses, mail doesn’t really exist, bus schedules are by word of mouth, and shops close when foot traffic is too slow. The weather is fickle – one minute the sun is shining, and the next minute, there’s a torrential downpour with thunder and lightening.

But, it’s here that you can take it all in. You appreciate each moment and nature’s beauty in her purest forms. You notice the clouds cascading in front of the rainforest-laden mountaintop on your way to the local farmer’s market. You smell the scent of asphalt in the morning after the rain has soaked the sand and debris. You hear the sounds of children kicking a soccer ball on a muddy grass patch. You watch the bicycles glide on by as the cars honk their horns. People exchange “holas” on the street, and everyone knows your name because the small community is built on connections.

While wages are low and living costs are relatively high, the important things really matter here, like the environment, art and people. The community cares deeply about recycling and compost. Wherever you see a trash can, there’s a recycling bin right next to it. Beer companies pick up empty bottles from bars, take them to sanitation and reuse them for the next brew. Street art and hand-crafted items are ubiquitous. The art of making coffee is crafted with a passion as strong as its aroma.

But here’s where it gets tricky. The down time and silence becomes loud and powerful. It’s asking me what I want to spend my time doing. It’s telling me to do something meaningful. Maybe it happens when you stop fighting it. That’s when the answers come through like the sunshine after the storm.

Everything about life here is much different than what I’m used to. Like everywhere though, purpose is needed to satiably inhabit the spaces we navigate as humans.

Inspired by: The Daily Post

 

Late Night Rambles 

What the fuck am I so afraid of? Every person has a story, a history, a future and the power to act. Every day brings with it millions of opportunities for life to go one way or the other. It’s all about choices we make and the convuluted act of just going for it. 

We (maybe I should say I, but a collective make it easier to swallow) want to do something. Then, we spend so many days, months and years talking about it instead of acting. What is with human nature that makes us this way? We all know that life is finite, yet we procrastinate carelessly until it’s too late. Only then do some of us wake up and wish we could’ve done it all differently. 
Not me. Not anymore. 

I am going for it. I only have small inklings of what it is, but I will know when I’ve done it. I can feel that is the truth. I’m trusting intuition, finally. 

I am going to explore and do things I’ve never done and see what I come back with, or without. Mind games and tricks can put illusionary limits on capabilities. I am learning to quiet those unneeded thoughts. There’s a whole lot of brain power that I won’t allow to be left unused and potential lingering that needs to be ignited. 
T-3 days until takeoff. 

Wired

Evolution-Of-ManOur universal language has become the clicks of a keyboard. Screens stare blankly back at us; they are the eyes that we look at more deeply and for more time than anything else these days. Human connection, intimately and physically, has waned even though we have digital connections with the power to span the entire globe. Babies rattles have been replaced with iPads, children’s books are now phones in their hands, and photography is a filtered expression of what you ate for lunch.How long will it be before we wake up and try to go back to the future?

This unsettling feeling is hard to escape when LED lights shine the truth so undeniably, ubiquitously, unanimously.

Time to shut down to power up.