INDIA::AIDNI

Heading into the Fall 2010

2010-08-27T17:18:00.001-07:00

Heading into the Fall 2010, I'm headed back to school and back to the Theater. Now is the time to satisfy all my quirky yearnings, and do what it is that I love. I will be attending the Sound, Voice and Music Healing Certificate Program at CIIS. Sound has long been a powerful entrance point into my inner world and I look forward to deepening my knowledge of this healing modality. Also I'm producing and acting in the play "Beyond Therapy" with a dear friend Jeff Bedillion. Currently we're casting the play, researching sex politics and women's hair do's of the early 80's and designing the set and rehearsal schedule. Opening night will be on November 15th at The Garage in San Francisco.

More to come...

Winter Schedule 2010

2010-01-03T13:40:00.000-08:00

Namaste and Happy New Year!

My current Yoga schedule goes as follows:

Saturday all levels Vinyasa Flow at Bernal Yoga 4:30pm-6:00pm
461 Cortland Avenue at Andover (across from the Good Life)

Sunday all levels Vinyasa Flow at Yoga Mayu 11:00am-12:30pm
2051 Harrison Street (Harrison &17th)

Hope to see you soon!

My best,
Katharine

Tell the Truth

2009-03-10T23:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a day that I needed to be surrounded only by pillows and other soft things instead of trying to lug a hefty harmonium off a high ledge. The outcome, I broke the Bernal Yoga harmonium. Immediately I had the thought, "Okay, I'll just put it back and pretend it wasn't me who dented the front left corner of the instrument." And then the mantra that has been following me around like Hamlet's father since India, came even in this moment, "Tell the Truth," it said. How many times have I done the opposite, never being completely accountable for my part of a situation or for that matter never being completely accountable for my unhappiness, meanwhile continuing to complain about my life situation without taking action. Inevitably all the half truths I utter have corroded my sense of telling the total truth to myself and others. Claiming responsibility is my yoga practice. It isn't always cute or easy, but I broke the harmonium. Another truth is that I've decided to leave San Francisco for the time being and am taking actions towards finding a job working with an NGO that directly serves women in India. I wish I could slide back effortlessly into my life in San Francisco as if nothing happened to me in India, but in the bottom of my stomach I am called to go back, and I may continue to break things until I do. I forget to be compassionate to myself, that I am not perfect. Even when doubt arises in my mind about whether I'm making the right decision about India, I forget to listen to the doubt without irritation. So now I've told the truth and must pay the price to fix the harmonium or replace it, but it is better than to act as if nothing happened. It clears my path by acknowledging the truth. It clears away the half truths, for one whole truth.

Making Soup

2009-02-14T18:07:00.000-08:00

Now that I'm nessled back into my apartment, I thought what better way celebrate being home than to make some vegetable white bean soup. Everything feels a bit bazar here, like re-entering somebody elses life. Yet for this moment, I couldn't be happier to be home after my first nibble of what India is. And now that I've had a taste I want more. I want to know India in so many ways, but mainly and always by heart. What I took from the experience of my travels is that my happiness and sense of fufillment isn't a little thing that can be left for two weeks on the shelf. No, happiness is something to engage moment after moment and there's no limit to how much of it I deserve. What ever lid I held over the pot of my happiness has been lifted, and now all that I keep as my main responsability is to remember that I am free and the world is my canvas. Tomorrow I teach my first class back in San Francisco at the Laughing Lotus and I look forward to taking the teacher's seat after my time away from it. Always, I am humbled to teach Yoga, the practice that has threaded seeker's on the path towards the direct knowledge and experience of their True Selves.
Namaste!

Full Circle

2009-02-11T20:19:00.000-08:00

After sleeping in over 10 beds during my stay here in India, not including the sleeper train beds, I'm ready for my own bed. I've been having moments of recollecting the life I left in San Francisco and I'm curious about how I'll feel about it when I return. Leaving Hampi last night I felt like the whole town said good-bye. The STD conductor on the corner (local and international phone service provider) said, "See you next year!" I said, "Or maybe sooner!" On the train I looked at my 'Lonely Planet' map of South India, and followed with my finger all the places I've traveled. I remember the first morning I arrived in Bangalore, I didn't know what to do, everything was so new and daunting. Now back in Bangalore, I have my wits about me, and can manuver with the Indian through my day. Tonight I have dinner with an engineer who I sat next to on the first train from Bangalore to Chennai, what seems like eons ago. India has finally caught up with my belly, and I'm hoping dinner will successfully agree with me. Then I'll leave at the same time I arrived, in the dark hours of morning, only to extend the 13th of Febuary from here to the other side of the world.

Hump it to Hampi

2009-02-08T23:04:00.000-08:00

When the realization that I only have a week left for my trip finally sunk in, I decided to Hump it to Hampi and skip Gokarna altogether. Let me explain that Hampi is a pilgramage site for Hindus all over the country becasue of the ancient ruins, but for others it's been long forgotten. In the 60's a bunch of Hippies discovered it, unpacked their sacks, and made a home in the ruins. Where the hippies go, the tourist follow. I suppose it's like any neighborhood in American cities made popular by a booming art scene and then the developers come to squeeze every drop of soul the place ever had all for a buck. Hampi has a village affect with hella cows. But there are more temples than there are cows, over 2,000 temples my Yoga teacher told me. Today I'll visit Hanuman's birth place, a hill covered with monkeys and they're vicious here. Don't worry, I left my bananas at home. Then I'll hit the water falls and visit my friends coconut, mango, and sugar cane plantation. Just a few more day to take in the unraveling affects of India. Just a few more days to plan my next trip back. When I arrived I had so much stress about how long I would stay, but now there's no doubt in my mind that I will be back, and soon. Bangalore on Wednesday, shop, eat, and fly baby!

Ride the wave man

2009-02-04T23:45:00.000-08:00

I've made a few new friends, which my parents will tell you is something I've done since pre-school. I befriended a pack of gentlemen, three in fact. One is a 23 year old from Australia who cracks me up with his aloof demenour and incessant search for the best pesto pasta on the Varkala strip. The second is a third grade school teacher from San Diego, who after three days of flirting with him, I realized he's actually gay. And lastly a tender graphic artist from Zurich, who's in a relationship with a man, but prefers not to label himself as anything. We've had a hell of a time dining, dancing, walking to the Shiva Parvati temple in the middle of the night for the Katakali theater performance, and of course hitting the waves. We made up a game standing in the ocean and turning towards the beach. We use the other senses besides our eyes to feel when a wave is about to come and hit us on the back. The wave is first felt around the feet and ankles as the water from the oceans floor is pulled out to sea. The greater the inital surge out, the greater the wave is when it comes back towrds the shore. I can't help but think of all the times in my life when I've felt like I was running out of energy, when I was moving through some emotional low, or when I was unsure where the universe was leading me. The feeling of the wave beginning around the feet is like those times, the bottomless feeling of the unknown. And in those times aren't there little prayers that your soul utters to itself and God? "Please help me to see clearly," it says, "Allow me to know my purpose here," it continues, "Allow me to get through this day." And in the middle of a prayer, the inevidible wave of gratitude or contentment comes to carry you back towards solid grond. These are the natural cycles of life, and yet we cling to the known, to the ground with an intense fear that we may not find ourselves ever again if we really let ourselves go into the sea. But we are beyond ideas of ourselves, beyond the limited plot of land that we happen to be standing on. We are made of mystery, so may we practice moving and being moved through this life. Even now, as i hear the sound of the ocean I feel the waves pulling me in all directions. Tonight I go to Gokarna with my men, then Hampi later, then Bangalore, then home.

Alone alone, all all alone, alone on a wide wide sea

2009-02-02T02:46:00.000-08:00

Before I left on my trip, everyone told me that I need at least a month in India to really sink into the dance which India is. I couldn't agree more. Every place that I've traveled to has had it's own rhythm and way about it. For awhile my trip felt like I was being lead in a dance with India, and the movements went from ackward to fluid only to become ackward again. But as my enviroment continues to change, so does the dance, and I've finally found one I can relax into for a few days. I've finally made it to the beach, and I couldn't be happier to play a cosmic beach bum. I bought the tackiest bikini I could find, and layed myself out before India and God. I'm now in Varkala, 4 hours South of Kochi on the Arabian Sea. I've finally had the realization of being alone, which after a month of traveling solo may seem like a funny thing come to now. But I've always had a course attend, or a temple to visit, a spice market smell, or something to do. This is the first time it's just been me, the beach, and God in the form of the sun. This is the time that I crave when I've been responsible for too long. Time to just write in my journal. Time to heal myself with pinnapple and carrot juice. Time to listen for the answers that just keep coming. And somehow this feeling that's here now is framiliar. Aloneness without the nessicity to respond to anyone elses needs but mine. I must go get some more pinneapple carrot juice, later.

Sleeping car jokers

2009-01-30T03:39:00.000-08:00

After sharing a sleeping car with 5 Indian business men, I was happy to arrive alone in my hotel room in Fort Kochi. Let me just clarify here by stating that most men in India are business men, so it isn't that unusual to be surrounded by 5 of them. Even if their business is selling you a toy drums on the side of the road, they're business men. Everyone's got something they're sure you need, and will pitch it to you in fashion unique to them. So, when I say "business men" in regards to the men I shared the sleeping car with last night, I could further describe them as IT bussiness men, medical bussiness men, and legal bussiness men. Regardless, they were halarious and must have thought the same of me. We spoke mainly about India's position in the global economy and more specifically about how this new middle class doesn't know how to take a break. One man said, "In the U.S. you work 9-5 Mon.-Fri. and then have the weekend to do nothing. We never let ourselves relax, we're always worried about saving money for the future of our faimily. Indians need to learn to enjoy life." I was stunned, because in mind the people of India live so connected to their spiritual lives, no matter the God(s) they worship, that they must be in joy in their daily lives. I responded, "You know a lot of people in the U.S. work very hard during the work week, and then when Friday night comes around they head right to the bar to decompress by drinking. That might not be the healthiest way to live either." They seemed to think that the corperate American way is better than sitting around worrying about money like the new Indian middle class does. But like anything, it's down to what works for the individual. So, how YOU enjoy YOUR life? Can YOU enjoy YOUR life in a way that maintains if not enhances your ethical/spiritual values? These are the balances we all are living, no matter where you are on the planet, no one get's off easy.

Shake it off

2009-01-28T23:38:00.000-08:00

Well, I picked up a cold in Malaysia. It could have been the 2am flight Friday night, or going from a non air-conditioned life to an air-conditioned life , or from no drinking to having champagne in the executive lounge at sissy's hotel. Regardless, I pushed the limit somewhere along the way, and am now sniffling my way back to health. Side note: I just had a fabulous bowl of chick pea soup that helped the whole process along. Last night I went to listen to Sri Sri Ravi Shankar speak to his devotees here in Chennai (not be mistaken with the Sittar player). He started by asking if we were happy, and the thousands of us in the audience half shouted half mumbled, "Yes". Then he told us he wanted us to be so happy that are faces were like blosoming flowers, with big smiles on them. He continued..."A dog goes into the water and when he comes out of the water, what does he do? He shakes off the water. But the mind doesn't shake it off. The mind stays stagnent, holds on, and stays in a state of inertia." This teaching reminds me of why I went on this trip in the first place, to get out of my comfort zone and awaken all the nerve endings of my literal and spirtual bodies. No matter what, the allure of the comfort zone will always be there. And what's more resentment, bitterness, depression, disease will continue to fester and grow as long as there is a lack of movement. So the way to clear the mental slate of endless doodling, is to shake it free. How do I practice this today? Chennai has become my comfort zone, I know where to get a decent latte, where to grochery shop, where to have lunch, where the temples are, and how to get home on a rig-shaw, finally. So tonight I leave again the framilar life of Chennai for an unframilar life in Kochi. Kochi is a port town in Kerala, on the West Coast of India. What will I find there, I don't know? But to break the cycle my daily routine is what will skake my mind free so it may settle more elegantly into the moment. May we lose our minds to find them again.

Happy Chinese New Year

2009-01-25T17:44:00.000-08:00

For months my sister had been trying to convince me to come visit her in Malaysia while I was in India. I continued to say, "Yeah but I traveled to India to be in India." Eventually the thought of seeing her in Asia won, and I booked my plane ticket. My sister is never too far away from her passport, and always has some trip cooking in her mind. When it came to convincing me to come her arguments were, "You've never been in a Muslim nation," or "How great would it be to celebrate Chinese New Year together!" True, true, but still just seeing her was the most compelling reason to come visit. So after the Pranayama course ended, I got on a plane that same night and headed to Malaysia for a four day visit. My sister picked my up at the Kuala Lumpur airport, which coming from India, felt as modern as The Jetson's. When we got to the hotel I took a hot shower that felt like it saved my life. Let me back track to the showers in India to give you a sense of where I was coming from. Each bathroom has a toilet or two foot marks and a hole, a sink, an spout to draw water from, and a shower head coming out of the wall. The water from the shower may be hot for a while, but sure as the sun will rise, the water gets cold again. What's more, after you take a shower and you've finally gotten the dirt out from the cracks of the soles of your feet, then you have to put on sandals in order to keep them that way. I say all of this to express my complete joy in showering upon my arrival in Kuala Lumpur. What's funny, is that since I've been in this five star hotel I notice things like pens, toilet paper, tea, water bottles, conditioner, and soap just lying there and think about taking them with me. I never have these types of urges to steal, but being in a place of where everything is provided is quite usual after India. So it's not the flat screen t.v.'s or the marble countertop that have me in awe, but the little amenities that would be luxuries in Chennai.

Oh my darling

2009-01-22T00:32:00.000-08:00

"Oh my darling...oh my darling...oh my darling," Amma said these words into my ear last night while I recieved Darshan (the direct experience of meeting the divine). She may have hugged 600 people last night, and I was one of them. For those that aren't framilar with Amma and her work of embracing the world, please go to www.amma.org and check out her teachings online. I've longed to meet Amma since I first heard about her from the co-creators of the Laughing Lotus Dana and Jasmine. Yet every time she came to New York or San Francisco, there was always something else to do. Isn't there always something else to distract our minds from the direct experience of the divine? This time I couldn't hide myself away from the experience. Here I am, in her motherland, and what's more she's come to Chennai! A few weeks ago I saw a big poster with her face on it and dates for her visit, and on the bottom it said, "All are welcome". I knew I had to go, it was too perfect. So I patiently waited until the 21st of January, asking my classmates if they'd be interested in coming with me, and finally my friend Marlene from Quebec said she would love to join me becasue she too has been meaning to experience Amma in the flesh. So the location where Amma would meet the public is a half mile from our brillant teacher Dr. N.C., so he volunteered to give us a ride to the event. An hour of traffic, and finally we arrived to his house where met his daughter and had some tea. This gave us plenty of fuel for meeting Amma. We got there at the right time, becasue Amma was slated to arrive ten minute later. Yet India being what it is, she arrived in an hour instead. We sat right in the front with the devotees. So naturally I start talking to my neighbor, because I've always been one to make a new friend. The woman sitting next to me is from France and Marlene begins speaking French with her immedaitely. Marlene gets all the details about Amma and the event from the French lady and I space out on the scene. I get goose bumps thinking that I am about to witness with my two human eyes one of the great spiritual leaders of our time. Amma arrives, and everyone stands up and is seated again. Amma speaks for about an hour in Tamil, which is funny becasue there were moment when everyone started laughing, and I was clueless. I'd ask my Tamil speaking neighbors and would get bits of the joke before the audience was quieted again. Then came the chanting, clapping, swaying, clapping faster, Amma singing into a distorted microphone that made her voice echo. She had a man with a harmonium, a whole team of tabla players, and women chanting with her as her back up musicans. Then came the fire puja (offering) at her feet by various women, and Amma threw rose petals on them in gratitude. And then finally Darshan, we all headed toward the stage, and a woman pulled Marlene and I over to the side and asked if we wanted to sit on stage with the devotees. Let me think about that? Um...yeah! So we witnessed Darshan from Amma's perspective, sitting 8 feet from Amma. It was amazing! After awhile it occured to met to check where they were in the order of the paper tickets, think deli numbers at Bi-rite grochery. We were D5. When I looked it was D5. How magical! We cut line beause we were already back stage. The Amma handlers wipped my face, asked me which language I spoke (apparently she speaks 102 languages), and reminded me not to touch Amma. Moments later she was hugging me and whispering, "Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling," into my ear.

What are you going to do with it?

2009-01-20T06:42:00.000-08:00

After a life time of bathing myself, I thought I knew how to do it. Clearly I've been doing it all wrong. I got my first ayurvedic massage today after school, and the whole experience reminded me that everything we do in this life can be made into worship. The two women lead me through the whole ritual with complete care and thoroughness. One woman had me sit on the wooden massage table with my feet on a stool and proceeded to rub herbal oil lengthwise into my scalp. She worked methodically through my scalp with her fingers of one hand and held my head with the other palm. Then she put warm oil everywhere. Did I say everywhere? Yeah... The massage was done with two women and they synched up so it felt like I was being rubbed down by a four armed Goddess. Afterwards warm oil was dropped from a contraption that looks like one half of an hour glass onto my forehead. I don't remeber much after that. When I came through, the original woman who had done the head rub took me into the bathroom and bathed me using buckets of warm water and herbal scrub to remove the oils from the skin. I learned to inhale while she was fetching the water, so that during my exhale the water that was poured right over my head wouldn't go up my nose. Then she tenderly dried me off like I was a little baby that she like to take care of. She had me put on my clothes, and all three of us walked downstairs together. They sat me down in a room with marble floor, orange walls, a couch and a gigantic sculpture of Shiva Nataraj. They gave me herbal sweet tea that tasted like a gingersnap and that was it. It is so easy to forget that everything we do in this life matters. And more importantly, the way that we treat our own bodies matters. So I ask you, now that you have a body, what are you going to do with it?

Happy Pongal to you!

2009-01-14T04:23:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the first day of a four day festival celebrated all over India called Pongal (Harvest Festival). This holiday is particularly cherished by those that live in the Southern Tamil Nadu region where I now reside. Yesterday on our way to school, everyone was busy cleaning the inside and outside of their homes and burning small piles of old things in the street. A bit scarey to drive a car a foot away from an open flame, but alas, as all the Western traveler's have at one time uttered, "It's India!" And it wouldn't be India, if there wasn't some degree of risk involved. Last night everyone was out on the street, but this morning it was empty, as no one had to work. Everyone was at home making Pongal. Pongal is a delicious rice dish made either sweet or savory in a pot. The word Pongal itself mean "to come out", and the rice as it's cooked comes out of the pot as it's heated. The rice is shared with family, friends, and in ancient times was even given back to the government to ensure stability for the greater community. Pongal marks a time in the Sun's movement when it begins to face north, which is considered an auspicious time. The sun is worshiped as the ultimate provider, whom without no(thing) would exist. Tomorrow the cow's will be decorated with ribbons, bells, and other markings to honor them as the embodiment of God's generosity and abundant love. All six of my teachers today shared bits of the traditions of this holiday and what it means to them. One of the most memorable came from Doctor N.C., a brilliant man who uses Yoga as therapy as well as other forms of medicine to heal the sick. He explained that the holiday was a time of realizing all the effort of all the various beings that allow this abundance to be acualized as a harvest. He sat with chalk in his hand and told us it is not just my fingers holding this chalk. The debt is to the people who made the chalk, the people who made this chair that I sit on, the people who made this building, my parents, and their parent, and their parents parents, and my kindergarten teacher, and Krishnamacharya, and all my teacher's and their teachers, and their teacher's teacher's, and all the food they ate to nourish their minds, and the insects that pollinated the flower's that gave them medicine, and on and on...With this extensive and connected gratitiude he asked us to remember this debt that we owe. I think about teaching Yoga and all the teacher's and life experiences that have allowed me to teach these ancient teaching. It's beyond my limited self, it is greater. What a miracle it is that life has shown me a way to plant new Karmic seeds, changing ancient patterns into new breaths to be realized now. It is with great reverance for the ancestors that I use their energy to move me forward, taking the nourishment I need to continue the movement into my life.
Namaste!

Jai Mamalallapuram!

2009-01-12T00:07:00.000-08:00

After a week of Indian city life, I was ready to take a holiday from my holiday. Luckily Brian and Glenis, two South African classmates of mine proposed we hit Mamallapuram, a beach town an hour south of Chennai. Brian didn't have to finish his sentace, explaining the trips details before I had already started planning what to pack in my overnight bag. FYI! My roomate Nicole in S.F. gave me a fabulous blue cloth bag (www.enviorsax.com) that worked wonders for this occasion, thank you Nicole. So I packed up the little bag, and moved the rest of my stuff into an apartment with the German girl (we've become like sister's yet doesn't compare to my actual sister Maddy to whom there's no competition). So Saturday morning we all met up at KYM for an hour long lecture with "Sir," otherwise known as Desikachar. Immediately afterwards we hopped into Babu's car (the driver we hired for the day) and were off. A few oranges later, we were there. Mamallapuram is a coastal town known for it's stone carvings and tourists. This was the first time I had a flavor shot of the tourism industry of India in full affect, and the taste is salty and stays in the back of your throat like a held sob. Beautiful girls with bracelets around their arms, begging you to buy one, and if not that one why not this one. Little boys follow you with an open palm and say, "Ma, please Ma." But equally you can see the starvation in other animals, like the feeding mother dogs, goats, and cows, searching for food to have enough energy to feed their babes. The need is great, and there's no end to it.
Side note: I can't help but think of all the silly accesories we clothe our pets with in the West, and how all that money we spend on needless things could feed whole other animals or children. Regardless...we got there, found a plesant hotel, and hit the temples. The water front where the first temple we visited was located, had been completely submerged during the Sunami in 2004, and 200 years before that had been unearthed by a team of archeologists. Our tour guide told us there were several more temples that have been discovered a bit out in the ocean. This temple had 108 Nandi bulls surrounding it and all the usual deities doing their thing. I was particular fond of Vishnu's permi-repose, taking a rest after feeding all of humanity. Big job, long rest. I forgot to tell you my stomach had been a bit narley since Thursday, so I've been popping my charcoal and it's gotten a lot better. So at lunch on Saturday, I took my pills with a bit of mild and cheesey vegetable gratin. Jai gratin!!! Then we went to the jungle gym which is the 5 Rathas. Apparently Saturday is the day local Indian families hit this historic spots and let the kids play on the rocks/ancient ruins. The children were adorable and are often taken by asking me what my name is or will ask if I want to take their picture. Haven't said no yet! The Five Rathas were carved out of one big rock, so lots of Durga with her tiger, the Shiva family and elephants make their appearance from the rock. Saturday night was a full moon so we showered up and hit the beach to meet the moon. I don't know if you know about my long standing love affair with the moon, but it rips right through me and all I can do is stare with my mouth wide open, mind blank like a chalk board. Witnessing the full moon in India made a woman out of me, and I can understand why all the maidens came running out of their houses to hear Krishna's flute music and see his blue face. I couldn't help but smile with the moon and the waves and the company. And in those moments I'm reminded that yes, life can be this harmonious. It's less about me having the priviledge to walk on this beach with a full moon. These are the simplist gifts from God, and yet the moments I take in my life to actaully recieve them are few. I don't have to be rich to walk in the moon light. I don't even have to know what good for me to recognize this inviting way of being. The very next morning we left the room at 5:30am to meet the sun. Not so unusual in India. The moon was still up when the sun began to peek up from the horizon. God bless this world we live in. I hope to go back to Mammalapuram every weekend while studying in Chennai!

Both parts

2009-01-09T00:21:00.000-08:00

After a day of inhaling for six counts and exhaling for twelve, I grew incredibly relaxed, too relaxed. As has been the case so far on this trip, my needs become blaringly apparent to me when they are not being met. The food for instance is very Pitta (HOT) and so I find myself needing sweet lassi's and chocholate to cool off my burning tongue. So after my day at KYM, lying on the floor in apanasana, inhaling my bent legs away for six counts and exhaling my bent knees in towards my chest in for tweleve, I was ready for a Bhakti (Yoga of Devotion) splash to wake things up again. I just wanted to go to the Shiva Temple called Kapalishvara Temple in the next neighborhood over. Sounds simple enough. I found a driver, agreed upon a fair fare price with him and got into the toot-toot (which is another name for auto-rigshaw I've learned). I could tell the driver was a bit Rajastic (active, associated with qualities of the Sun) as he kept spitting insults to the stalled traffic in fornt of us and waving his arms around. And yes, once we started moving again, there was the near death experience of two car moving full speed towards our little rigshaw, about to sandwhich us. But I won't dwell on this, becasue I've never driven in India myself, and he may have been in the right. All I know is this driver lives by the skin of his teeth. Then we just stopped, at what looks like a bee hive of motorist surrounding a petrol pump. There were motor bikes, cars and toot-toots fighting to be the next to get oil. Later I'll see this type of behavior at the Shiva Temple, only the devotees were waiting to make their offerings or to recieve the light. Driver's with water bottles and other plastic containers, jam themselves towards the fill-up man at the pump. I have one last sip of water in my jumbo bottle and the driver looks at it wantingly. "Do you want this?," I say. He nods and say, "Yes Madam." My German roomate and I always giggle about how when they call us Madam, we feel like a sort of princess. I don't see him for awhile and start getting fed up. I can't just sit here like this , I have things to do at the Shiva Temple, offerings to make an what not. How dare he just stop in the middle of my ride! I am paying him afterall. Couldn't he tell me he was going to stop! Me! Me! Me! Then it occured to me, that maybe the universe wants me to see this too. As much as I wanted to have my needs met in an immediate and orderly fashion, it was importent for me to see the gross need we all have for oil, be it crude, diseal, filtered or what have you. Sitting in the back of the rigshaw, I made it my practic just to sit, not to fight the scenerio which would have further complicated the matter and would have taken me longer to get to the Shiva Temple as I'd have to find a new toot-toot on this busy street, explain where I'm going and agree upon a fair fare. Instead I just gave in. I let go of my preferences how how this moment should look, to meet the moments as it was. By no means is this special. We all have events daily where we can either lose our sense of well being or keep it together. May we expand our clear headedness through letting go of the fight for our limited needs to be met, so we can work peacefully in the world around us.

Act Great

2009-01-07T00:08:00.000-08:00

What is the key to untie the knot of your mind's suffering? What is the escoteric secret to slay the crazed one who each of us did wed and who can ruin our heart's and eyes exquisite tender landscape? Hafiz has found two emerald words that restored me, that I now cling to as I would sacred tresses of my beloved's hair. "Act great," my dear. Always act great.
-Hafiz
Last night I went with a few of my classmates to a dance/music performance at the Music Academy of Madras. The female dancer Priyadarshini Govind has much prestige explained one of my classmates from Quebec before the performance began. The theater, as you may already know has always been my second home all my life, which made the experience of being in an Indian theater so special. The whole theater felt like it was from my grandparents era, not this one. The curtain was ruby red. The color of Sarah Bernhart's boudoir, I'm sure. There were many hanging photographs of all the great musicans who had studied at the academy that were taken from now to before my grandparents were alive, I'm sure. Then, the sound a fire alarm. I look around to my friends, whether to start leaving the theater as there might be a fire. Then, it stops, just a cue that the show is about to start. Alas, it's India! The messages are completely different here for everything, which gives me the feeling of being something like a toddler. The lights go down, the curtain rises, and there's an elderly woman sitting in a chair surrounded by the dancer, the president of the academy, and the lead musican. Tonight's performance is dedicated to the 80 year old woman, who's birthdaty it was, who had been a great dancer and who has been the long time teacher to the dancer who is about to perform for us. The student/dancer presents the biggest garland I've ever seen to her teacher, and bows over, and over, and yes, again over to the feet of her guru. They exit. Curtain down. Lights down. Stage right is an illuminated Shiva Nataraj. Alarm thing again. Curtain up. Lights up. The musican begin playing, a woman singing, tablas, violin, other percussion... The dancer enters and I can't tell you any more. There really aren't words. Everything. I could say, yes I observed the tireless dedication she obviously had given to her craft. I could say that her body was the perfect vessel for the offering. I could say so many things, but words! All I can say is she was living her dharma (truth). There's nothing else. All my tendancies towards confusion and doubt towards my own self fell away in observing her greatness. May we all find that thing that delivers us to our greatness, unabashadly.
Namaste

Happy accident

2009-01-05T05:12:00.000-08:00

Today commenced the three week Pranayama course I will be taking at the Krisnamatcharya Yoga Mandiram. As luck would have it, my regular teacher had an important meeting in Mumbai with Mr. Iyengar himself. As his substitute was Sri Desikchar, the son of the grandfather of modern yoga Sri Krishnamatcharya. Pinch me! His book "The Heart of Yoga" was a text book for yoga school, but more importantly, he is the direct link to the linage of teaching that I most admire. He walked in the room, shook every single one of our hands and said "good morning to you". He began to speak to us about Pranayama (breath extention) and it's deeper implications. He kept refering to the teacher who he was covering as his boss. Talk about humble! Immediately after his lecture, Menaka (his wife) lead a practical class on linking Pranayama and Chanting ( a dream come true). All these teacher's allow the teachings to be what comes off first, not their personalities. They are matter of fact, and as a result are completely inspiring/adorable/infused with wisdom.

Hi, I'm in India and loving every second of it!

A German woman from the course has come to stay with me at the hotel where I'm staying. She needed a room and I had an extra bed, works out perfect. We just went to a grochery store, and bought things like crackers, yogurt and peanut butter. Very bizarre to have western luxury items in the middle of India, but one begins to crave framilar things.
More soon...
I'm on a PC, but will find a MAC computer to upload pictures onto the blog in the next few day!
Love and light,
Katharine

I made it!

2009-01-03T04:09:00.000-08:00

Greetings!
After spending New Year's Eve (and what quickly became New Year's Day as I went East) up in the airplane, I am happy to report that I've landed and am settled into my hotel in Chennai. I'm loving the dance which is India, even despite the air pollution which has already landed me with swollen glands, a bloody nose, and a sore throat. All my discomfort fades away the moment I step into the auto-rigshaw. The traffic is a wild weave of people darting across the street, buses, bikes lugging heaping piles on their backs or big trays in the front, cars, motorbikes (mainly solo men but I've also seen two men, a man with a woman riding side saddle, and on the rare occasion a woman riding solo), and of course the yellow auto-rigshaws. People look you right in the eye, even as a passanger in the back seat. The women and men alike walk with their shoulders over their hips, and a general sense of respectability lifting out throught the crown of their heads. Tonight I go to an Indian dance performance and tomorrow I start my course at the Krishnamatcharya Yoga Mandiram.
More soon!
Photo's are coming...I promise!
All my best,
Katharine

Happy Holidays!

2008-12-27T11:57:00.000-08:00

Dear Loved Ones,
As this year ends, I'd like to extend my deepest gratitude for your ongoing support and friendship! I am now just days away from my departure to India and look forward to using this blog as a means to share my journey with you all. Please feel free correspond and offer back to the blog any bits of wisdom that you may be chewing on.
With great reverence,
Katharine