2 more sleeps before my flight back to Kuala Lumpur.
Being in this moment right now takes me exactly to that time when I am seated on the floor of my little tiny bamboo hut in Koh Samui, looking at my neatly packed bag and wondering what life would be like once I get back to the motherland and learn to integrate my experiences in the last one month into my daily life.
The only difference I feel is the magnitude of experience and changes that has occurred within myself while being away to focus solely on deepening my yoga practice. While before during my Teachers Training in Koh Samui the realisations that occurred were more obvious and exponential, this time around the lessons that came to me were subtle. If 2 years ago I went away merely to fulfil the curiosity of an intensive yoga practice and a brief respite from the corporate world, this time around I went away with nothing else in mind besides wanting to be close to this woman whom I had met once but felt a pull to return to in a way that can’t be quite justified in words and to return as a ‘full cup’ so that I can share more with those whom I come across in my own classes.
My life has been simple in Mysore. Waking up at 5 am. Practice at 6am .Finding simple joys in the cool breeze and scent of jasmine in the air as I walk to the shala. Breakfast at home. Laundry then heading out for coffee with some friends. And then it’s back at home. Reading. Writing. Brainstorming on the next project. Connecting with potential business partners. Appreciating the clear clear blue sky and the view of coconut trees against it (when it’s not raining of course). Cooking dinner or looking for dinner in one of the many nearby places. Soaking in the Mysore environment. The life of a KPJAYI student. And truly just beginning to understand the magic this place holds that has many dedicated practitioners returning annually for decades after. I may not entirely grasp the full understanding of parampara or teacher-student relationship just yet though by all means I fully acknowledge its importance, I feel like I am beginning to experience the tiny buds of practicing and being close to a guru.
The learning doesn’t come so obviously like how one would expect by attending a workshop. There are no lengthy explanations during those Mysore practice. All discussions were saved for conference time. There are no complicated demonstrations. Just the occasional “You, what you do?”, “Tomorrow/or another specific day, you do [insert next pose]’, ‘You, wait”, “You, stop” and “Very good”. The first 2 weeks I was here, my mind struggled with this method of learning. I didn’t feel like I was learning anything new. I didn’t feel like I was progressing, what more the benefits of practicing so close to and under the direct guidance of a globally recognised guru. “What’s the big deal??” and “WHY am I here again??” kept returning to my head, especially on those days when I felt like I didn’t give my 100% to the practice or that my practice was just NOT as I had wanted it to be.
If there was one thing that I could do over, was to allow myself to stay open without judgments to the motions that I was going through. To allow myself to be distracted by the awe of practicing in a packed shala, by the next person with the most graceful jumpthroughs and by that lady behind me who is doing her chaturrangas incorrectly. To allow all this without chastising myself for not being focused. Because this is what it means to see things with a brand new pair of eyes. If there is a next year for me to return, my experience and I am sure of this would be entirely different.
A lot of what we admire or dislike in other people are merely the reflection of what we yearn or dislike within ourselves. Without even knowing it, we are already what we yearn for even if it is not executed so obviously in its physical form. Just today, I was practicing next to this amazing soft spoken girl who was a former Wall Street Investment banker. I remembered in my first few weeks here hearing her cries as she dropback and assisted into catching her feet. I remembered Saraswathi saying to her (and in a room so quiet like that, everything she says sounds loud) “breathe, no cry”. I remembered feeling “oh man, no dropbacks for me anytime soon!” as I felt some of her discomfort being in that position. Today her entire Primary practice seemed effortless, graceful and one that left me amazed at how much persistent practice and patience can manifest itself eventually in the physical world. And it occurred to me, the lessons I have learned from being this close to her are subtle, one that doesn’t need formal words to explain, and one that hits right home in an instant.
There are many things that attract me initially to this practice, and as I spend more time dedicating and focusing my own practice on just Ashtanga , I see more of its beauty. I love the way the practice demands at most 2 hours of your time in a day and for the rest of the day you are to live your life as any other human being. Families, friends, relationships and careers are all given equal attention. The pace of life in Mysore may be slower than normal, but if you know how to utilise the rest of the hours in a day after your practice, it actually mimics a regular day you would have back at home. To me, this has not felt or was intended to be a holiday. When some people responded to my statement of coming to Mysore as “oh you mean like a yoga retreat??” I honestly did not know what to say and chose instead to smile and keep silent.
I have been humbled, surprised and tickled by the many different facets of people that I have met. Mostly I am thankful for the few special ones that I got to know better in the last few weeks. The incredible energy that each person exudes and share. The stories told and the perspective gained from these. And the people these people remind me of, the people whom I have missed. It is amazing how we differentiate ourselves from the rest of the world, by race, ethnicity, skin color, nationality, political preference and god knows what else, but that at the end of the day there is a common thread that binds us all together. It is this very thread I believe that makes me feel like I have known these people whom I have just met, for a very very long time. A wise person once wrote ” Divinity is right here, right now, inside you, inside me, there is no separation, we are one, but we are definitely not the same, and that is the beauty and complexity of the multiplicity of one”.