The India diaries

A recollection of writings about what took me there, why I had to go, who I encountered and how it changed my life...

Being broken, Yoga & India

I shall take a slight detour and bring you back to exactly why I am in this country, doing what I have been called for. It starts with a little story of childbirth, destruction, new life and how India came about.

Rewind a good few years when I was 20 kilos plus, looking like a beached whale carrying that munchkin child of mine. I was and remained a dancer, performer and teacher until the day my waters broke. Ironically, I was on the way to the theatre for a dress rehearsal of some show but I ended up in another theatre!

So just to get through this as swiftly and as painlessly for the reader as I can, without omitting any lively details, my waters broke, went to hospital, everything was booked in for a natural birth with a much needed epidural shot.

Now rewind back a few months, as I sat and spoke to my midwife about a C section as that was what I intuitively wished to have, but she convinced me otherwise. So, of course being a newbie mum I went with her expertise, completely ignoring my gut feeling.

Fat mistake!

So back to the pushing... pushed but nothing happened, epidural shot was strong so lost all sensations. After a few hours of that, Jules had to be assisted out by ventouse and with that came the grand crack of my coccyx and my pelvis. Than what followed were, few minutes of more pushing the placenta which seemed to have been very comfortably lodged to stay, than another shot of epidural, insane shaking as an effect of the drug, signing papers that could have said @we are about to kill you@ please sign here, and the manual removal of the placenta. I remember a brutal detail my cousin, who was head nurse then,  had shared with me when it was all over. Apparently my gynae's arm was right inside me.

So, there I was, getting over the drug effect, slowly regaining sensation to my legs and for the first time feeling phenomenal pain from a cracked coccyx, a shifted pelvis and a torn abdominal wall, apart from the usual stitching up

Let me just say that Jules was absolutely fine and a very healthy handsome baby indeed but unfortunately I could not take care of him.

Bless her, my midwife than solidly confirmed that I would have to stay in hospital for a while and I would either need a walking stick or a wheel chair. So I took none, and dragged myself out beating myself up for not listening to my instinct.

Let me not go into detail about how I was left untreated and all that jazz, as it would create a longer detour. So, that was it, A turning point, now I learnt, that would change how I practised, what I practised, what I teach and how I teach it.

A quick tour on the many doctors I visited, all announcing and affirming absolute crap.

Stop dancing, pack your bags, It's psychosomatic, you need a walking stick, you're stretching too much. They wanted to inject my hips with some drug and wanted to pin their fancy knowledge onto me. But, luckily I was born a rebel and when I hear NO, I have this innate ability to turn it into a yes. So yes I was gonna dance again

So my journey of recovery began. 3 years of being left untreated and now unable to walk, train or work for that matter, I had to open my eyes in a very clinical way, bring all my dance knowledge combine it with a very vast reservoir of inner intuitive knowing and put me back together.

I fought many demons and had no choice but to heal. So I did!

Yoga knocked on my door and I injected my daily healing practise with its powerful effect.

I was finally sent a medical angel who was the only one inspecting me with no clothes on and standing up, so together, with her grinding physiotherapy, I did hours and hours of gentle Yoga, Pilates, Dance Conditioning and Swiss Ball. Until, I walked unaided and of course stepped back on that stage which I call home

I could go on about what I could have done or should have tried but the fact remains that this experience was part of my journey and it made me the teacher I am today. Yes I have trained and qualified endlessly but no one will be able to certify me on what I went through. With this experience came a stronger determination, x ray eyes, incredible knowledge about the body and the greatest want to share and make a difference through my work.

So, back to India and why I am doing what I'm doing here.

Over the last few years, word went round about how I healed. Even the physio that proudly announced the demise of my career, is actually promoting what I do! So yes, word went round and I was presented with many many opportunities to put bodies back together. However with that came the unknown ability to offer more than just physical help and the sharing of life stories made my work one beautiful and therapeutic package.

So, India came to me when I was broken physically, then it screamed and busted my door when I was broken soulfully. It allowed me in, embraced all my flaws and offered a ground for rebirth. I followed the calling blindly as it was too intuitively clear to ignore. I remember wondering about the how and when, considering that I would be doing it solo. A cheque equivalent to the price of the flight came through the door one day; it was some property refund which I had forgotten about. Flights booked, visa settled, jabs done and I departed to what I now know to have been the biggest life changing trip ever.

Now it’s back to allow me to bow down to its marvel and come back with a greater offering of mind body and soul healing. The trauma during childbirth and all the happenings that followed and broke me, all happened for a reason.

 

Me myself and India (my 1st visit)

I learnt 2 fat lessons in India, of course apart from the obvious practise and culture I was there to absorb – If you are buying a blanket give one away. If you’re worried about 20 things then you have 20 ‘holes’ in the energetic body all leaking precious Prana

These two stayed with me till today. Of course my Yoga practise and daily meditiation will never be enough to my ultimate path to contentment. Its the closer look at the attitudes, behaviours and ethics within your own being and that towards others. These little lessons of course came from the Sutras written by the great sage Patanjali and as always i took them on and translated them into my own layman language for easy every day application. In short the sutras are all about restraints (yamas) observances (niyamas) physical yoga practise (asanas) our oxygen (pranayama) the withdrawal of the senses (pratyahara) total focus (dharana) listening to God – meditation (dyana) and the connection to the Divine (Samadhi). When read thoroughly these disciplined acts can transform your life – well they did for me and in the most obvious exhilarating ways.

 

This is practical philosophy that taught me how to simplify, cleanse and change...upon my return I acted upon them. I gave away clothes i hadn’t worn in years, I stopped indulging in shopping especially clothes, I lowered my voice, I removed all enemy images from people who did me wrong including wardens, silly neighbours and the list is never ending. My house was also full of ornaments that were taking my space, gave those up too. I stopped stealing other people’s time and energy for my own benefit, i stopped using people for my own happiness, I stopped harming myself with thoughts of fear and worry that were destroying each living cell within me, I gave up on my past and all judgements, I forgave myself, I took responsibilities for all the actions I had taken that brought me to a dead end, I stopped pointing fingers in blame, I stopped talking about people if they weren’t present unless it was positive and if and when i find myself in the slightest of gossip i shut up and forgive.

I started praying without desperation then of course I had to sit and listen through a lot of tough meditation,

I stopped caring about what society asks of me, loud music was out, energy vampires too! I stopped dancing and practising Yoga through ego and ambition putting just the right amount of effort in my asanas as well as my actions. I had a good look at myself and my bullshit and gave it all up. I now read only what nourishes my brain, I eat what nourishes my body not my ego, I am on my way to not being part of the suffering of all animals for my enjoyment, unfortunately I still eat fish but am doing my best to eliminate all killing on my plate.I stopped pretending. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I had a little disciplinary voice in my head now so it was all changing!

That was India, Ashtanga, Patanjali and my application. Then came Budokon.

I believe i wrote a few notes on what this practise has done to me but ill add a few more.... Budokon came to me by chance, in a charity shop, a 50p DVD and an intention to discover and learn all about it. Both Cameron Shayne and Budokon were in my face when it came to letting go of even more shit...I slowed right down, learnt how to drop the ego even more especially when an authority figure such as Cameron instigates tears and offense. He was louder than my ego so i had to listen. He added volume to that disciplinary voice I had acquired in India and through Patanjali I got more ‘gut’ from this. A total mindful respect towards how I show up in everything i do including motherhood, teaching, interacting, communicating. I hadn’t realised how competitive I was with my own body and now this goes without saying. I am going to give this to all those who share my passion in Dance and performance and pass on this non competitive and meditative practise so they can keep it in their pocket through their teaching, training and performing.

Well I could go on forever but that s the idea that I am trying to pass on.

Its not what Yoga gives, its now what I can give to the world

Namaste!

 

 

Me myself and India (my 2nd visit)

This is is my India, the rainbows and the dirt, the lessons and the storms….totally exposed! I will go from why I did what I did, why I stayed and what I aim to deliver.

In a nut shell.

I landed, I got sick, I recovered. Out of nowhere comes an opportunity to train young teachers in training during their 200 hour and 300 hour teacher training in Rishikesh-phenomenal experience. Encountered the most amazing students. Along came rumours and gossip about the Swami’s tendency towards sexual abuse. Words landed on my ears despite having naively thought that his habits had subsided. Words like, he hugged me with a hard on, he is asking to sleep with me, he is threatening not to give me my certificate, he fired me. I left this place with poison stored in my heart, unsure which path to take. The threats from the Swami followed.

I travelled to my next place. Fell incredibly ill, got wheeled out of the plane, landed in an Ashram, was surrounded by people who wanted to let me know that they were there to care, just care! All I wanted was to heal and be alone and read my books. Total isolation. It took some time. There were times it felt like I was giving birth. I guess the poison was intense both physical and emotional. I got better. Than my pelvis decided to let me know that it had left over issues from 12 years back that I probably hadn’t dealt with and it gave up on me. I stopped practising, walking and sitting up. My studies continued with incredible determination. I was learning through my ailments. I knew what and why. I fought when I was weak and surrendered every time I spoke to God. I trusted I was going to be just fine but I wanted home, the sea and my space. I stayed. My pelvis got stronger, I fell ill again, this time with a vengeance, this time the shit just came out of me with no warning or shame. It just rolled down my leg. There were times I felt humiliated, other times I laughed at it. It was comical! I shat and studied and shat some more. I also choked in my vomit a few times but it didn’t stop me from my continuous belief that this journey was digging deep. There were moments I slept for an hour and thought I had woken up the following day. I feared on days and smiled on others. My soul knew what was happening but my ego tried to blind me. I kept studying. It kept me alive!

 

The time came to leave, I packed, felt the excitement through all the weakness but something weighed me down. That same day my fever decided to show up and accompany me to the airport, to the plane, to another airport. I was not paying attention to it. It gave up and it left me. I landed in the UK to reunite with my gorgeous baby boy and fell ill again, this time the chest. Again I knew what and why. I laid, that’s all I did. I landed in Malta, slept, ate, slept some more than for the last time, I visited the toilet and with pains similar to childbirth contractions I shat the last of the poison out. I looked down just to bid my farewell and I noticed the colour was white and shocking! Than when I unpacked my last bags, got over the shit J and felt I could stand up and stay up, life bitch slapped me again this time with another beautiful blessing! A man, I thought was the most docile earthling ever, after 6 months of beautiful serenading and masking, decided it was the best time for me to be dumped ;) And indeed it was. There is no better time to fall down when you would have just got up! You’ll be in the most perfect position to jump straight back up, dust yourself from the debris and walk on. I guess when someone treats you harshly in your weakest moments, it highlights their journey not yours! My ego tripped slightly, actually more than slightly, but my soul yelled yabadabadoo J Again I knew what and why

 

I believe this will be one of the most exhilarating life changing experiences ever. It closed doors and opened so many more divine ones. It rid me of toxins I was treasuring or thought weren’t there, of old habitual thinking, of a little inner child that passed on happily and of a fake earthling that taught me priceless lessons about who I have become. How I am able to neutralise dualities and just witness their happenings. How I am able to push an ego out of the door and be totally one with my essence. How I have learnt to artfully witness joy and pain. How each and every instance of meditation, prayer, selfless action, study of high ideas and of self adds force to the momentum of painless mind modifications. How that bullshit radar called intuition is ALWAYS right

How, like Adele, a heartbreak was turned into a ground breaking album and how Betty White describes having a vagina as being the toughest of body parts that will get you through the toughest of hurdlesJ

The mantra in all of this....

When you’re drowning, open your eyes and look at the fascinating beauty around you and focus only on that! What's no longer with you, gracefully let go of and see it only for the blessing that it is.

Now….Do I write this so people can mind my business? nah not really.

I write because the pen is sharper than the swordand if through my experiences, people can adopt new ways of coping and creating new perceptions or if I can help just one person, than my work is done! What my intentions are with my teachings will now open new pathways to the more philosophical side of Yoga, a more therapeutic approach which goes way beyond Asanas, a teaching and healing that stems from direct experiences not just books and learnt knowledge

"I owe no explanations for my flaws. I don’t have to justify my mistakes, my past or my insecurities. I am growing and learning." unknown

 

My shaktipath experience (2nd visit)

Like one prepares to go on stage, the preparation of costumes, the presentation of self, inside and out making sure you are able to transmit your true essence to the awaiting audience, so was my preparation for Shaktipat.

This is a ritual where a Guru gifts you with a mantra that will propel you on your spiritual path. He also gives you a Sanskrit name, a name that would have stemmed from his higher understanding of your true nature. May I just stop and give you full details of how I feel this came about.

Now, Guruji, (the Guru) had only known me for a mere few weeks. His first encounter with me was my transition to the Ashram in my most helpless state after having been delivered from one hand to another, from aeroplane to a wheeled chair, to taxi, to strangers to an empty room and finally to a chair in front of him curled up in a seated child’s pose trying to protect myself from more pain, sickness and strangers. I believe the first word he heard from me was NO, to his gentle and fatherly concern of whether I wanted to be taken to a hospital nearby. Another NO when there was a mention of intravenous drip, another NO to the mention of anti biotics.

I guess I didn’t make that hard for anyone to judge me at that weak moment in a foreign land and a foreign home. You can call it stubbornness, I prefer to call it fire that doesn’t dwindleeasily. He then read my words through my daily journal, saying that I was to Dance for the Ashram celebrations despite having been ill, he may have subtly understood that this art resides under my skin and it is the only breathe that keeps me alive.

Our next encounter was a complete clash of horns in the beginning of my studies. I guess a fatherly figure doesn’t go down very well with me especially because both my parents were absent in spirit during all my formative years, my tender childhood and teenage years and woman hood. Bless them they were there physically but they needed parenting themselves so I had to do most growing up and living on my own with not much guidance. So when a grown man tries to pose as my parent, the world experiences a bout of rebellion and dismissal. Guruji saw me going through bouts of aggressive sickness, a hip injury that stopped me from my usual joyful movement and then more sickness. I avoided his words, his knowledge, his expertise in what he may have learnt in the past about having a rebellious ‘child’ in his abode.

Only during one of my weakest moments in the Ashram, where I found myself totally alone one day after having been severely sick all night, chocking in my own vomit and witnessing a complete and humiliating loss of my own urges and senses, did I wish to talk and share and ask for help. I guess the last bout of sickness was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I knew I had to step into his space and surrender all the sorrows that purged out of me in a hallucinating way. It wasn’t easy getting to him. I paced up and down the Ashram using all sorts of excuses as to why I shouldn’t go to him. An angelic force pulled me towards him yet my ego held on to its most pathetic earthly form. I guess, I should also mention that my experiences with bearded men and so called Swamis in India have not been at all inspiring, so my protective walls took on a very stable frame around me in case I was to encounter yet again, more poison.

So, on the 2nd day of pacing, toilet visits and fever, I took the journey downstairs with the clear intention of walking straight out and into the tree house where I was finding safety and joy, something very forceful pulled me into his meditation room instead and there I was telling all, from what my belly felt down to how my heart was coping with all of this, how my soul craved to move to Dance to Yoga yet I couldn't. This has been and always will be my way to heal any ailment yet a very strong shift in my pelvis was there to stop me from doing this. I purged how prior to my soon departure from the Ashram, life scrolled right infront of me and reality hit me with the slight sadness of returning to a home without my beloved boy.

Sorrow is our only way to delve deep and do the inner work. It needs to happen so we evolve. Doors open and new light enters. This was and has always been the lesson!

It’s funny how an hour in this short life of ours can change a lot of things. It can make all the suffering and sorrows worthwhile and allows you to see them as the blessings they really are. I guess under the veil of a month full of dreariness, all he saw was light, determination and the true essence that I thought I was hiding. He diffused all the poison of having encountered such lies and deceit in the previous ashram, where the Swami was, is and will continue to harass students in the most unethical and sexual manner. The poison that I ate from the hands of a dirty vendor went away, the near childbirth contractions that I experienced in my 1st week at the Ashram, got flushed down the toilet, my injury, one that resurfaced after 12 years, and the illness that struck once again few days prior to this wholesome experience. If this hour with the Guru didn’t manifest, than I would have not been in that loving trust to receive any mantra or any Sanskrit name for that matter.

He made this whole India experience worth my while!

So, the morning came, with all the preparations done, the prashad (sweets offerrings) my shawl, my meditation Malas, my crystals, all on a tray ready to be placed on the altar. A few minutes prior there was the picking of fresh flowers, the lighting of incense on the Asham altar, a moment in prayer before being seated infront of my Guru.

A brief explanation by him as to why I was being given this Mantra and its purpose in my life from this moment forth. It started as an audible sound but was then taken inward into a quiet hush of vibrational meaning. When the mantra is taken beyond just breathe awareness, it leads and becomes the path to mental silence. All sounds proceed from silence. The most beautiful and subtle energy shot through me, all around, hitting me in places that hurt the most, I guess the areas that needed healing. The high tingling of the fingers, the illuminating light inside that looked like a revolving sun with changing colours. The body moved but I wasn’t moving it. There was healing and a provoking of dormant toxins that needed to come up to the surface.

With an experience such as this, one where you leave everything behind and lay yourself down in an Ashram and with the deep self-practise and inner glimpses that you encounter, you have to imagine that if you had doubts before than the doubts are as big as a mansion, if there were obstacles, now they’re real and in your face, whatever the issue, it gets blown up to 3D proportion.

 

That’s about all I can remember. I had prayed to the Almighty to grant me the serenity of a toilet free hour just so I can immerse myself fully into this moment and He did J

Now I finally come to the name that was extracted from all my NO’s and all my determination to not let anything stop my studies, the same determination that he saw as being an aid to helping people throughout this lifetime and….. to everything that went on. I guess what the Guru saw in me when I was coping with all of this. Maa Jyotir Anand, meaning Mother or Creator of Blissful Light. This name allows the flame to come out of the ashes and for the real self to appear and connect with divinity. I am to use this name as frequently as possible so I keep my inner fires ignited and awakened.

Beautifully privileged to have been seen as light in all of this, and for my stubbornness to have been noted as sheer essence that is to be used for my path.

 

Physical sickness - Spiritual Growth

Read only if you can handle explicit details 

This is my India, the rainbows and the dirt, the lessons and the storms….totally exposed! I will go from why I did what I did, why I stayed and what I aim to deliver.

In a nut shell.

I land, I get sick, I recover.

Out of nowhere comes an opportunity to train young teachers in training during their 200 hour and 300 hour teacher training in Rishikesh-phenomenal experience. Encountered the most amazing students. Along came rumours and gossip about the Swami’s tendency towards sexual abuse. Words landed on my ears despite having naively thought that his habits had subsided. Words like, he hugged me with a hard on, he is asking to sleep with me, he is threatening not to give me my certificate, he fired me. I left this place with poison stored in my heart, unsure which path to take. The threats from the Swami followed.

I travelled to my next place. Fell incredibly ill, got wheeled out of the plane, landed in an Ashram, was surrounded by people who wanted to let me know that they were there to care, just care! All I wanted was to heal and be alone and read my books. Total isolation. It took some time. There were times it felt like I was giving birth. I guess the poison was intense both physical and emotional. I got better. Than my pelvis decided to let me know that it had left over issues from 12 years back that I probably hadn’t dealt with and it gave up on me. I stopped practising, walking and sitting up. My studies continued with incredible determination. I was learning through my ailments. I knew what and why. I fought when I was weak and surrendered every time I spoke to God. I trusted I was going to be just fine but I wanted home, the sea and my space. I stayed. My pelvis got stronger, I fell ill again, this time with a vengeance, this time the shit just came out of me with no warning or shame. It just rolled down my leg. There were times I felt humiliated, other times I laughed at it. It was comical! I shat and studied and shat some more. I also choked in my vomit a few times but it didn’t stop me from my continuous belief that this journey was digging deep. There were moments I slept for an hour and thought I had woken up the following day. I feared on days and smiled on others. My soul knew what was happening but my ego tried to blind me. I kept studying. It kept me alive!

The time came to leave, I packed, felt the excitement through all the weakness but something weighed me down. That same day my fever decided to show up and accompany me to the airport, to the plane, to another airport. I was not paying attention to it. It gave up and it left me. I landed in the UK to reunite with my gorgeous baby boy and fell ill again, this time the chest. Again I knew what and why. I laid, that’s all I did. I landed in Malta, slept, ate, slept some more than for the last time, I visited the toilet and with pains similar to childbirth contractions I shat the last of the poison out. I looked down just to bid my farewell and I noticed the colour was white and shocking! Than when I unpacked my last bags, got over the shit  and felt I could stand up and stay up, life bitch slapped me again this time with another beautiful blessing! A man, I thought was the most docile earthling ever, after 6 months of beautiful serenading and masking, decided it was the best time for me to be dumped ;) And indeed it was. There is no better time to fall down when you would have just got up! You’ll be in the most perfect position to jump straight back up, dust yourself from the debris and walk on. I guess when someone treats you harshly in your weakest moments, it highlights their journey not yours! My ego tripped slightly, actually more than slightly, but my soul yelled yabadabadoo  Again I knew what and why

I believe this will be one of the most exhilarating life changing experiences ever. It closed doors and opened so many more divine ones. It rid me of toxins I was treasuring or thought weren’t there, of old habitual thinking, of a little inner child that passed on happily and of a fake earthling that taught me priceless lessons about who I have become. How I am now able to neutralise dualities and just witness their happenings. How I am able to push an eg out of the door and be totally one with my essence. How to artfully witness joy and pain. How each and every instance of meditation, prayer, selfless action, study of high ideas and of self adds force to the momentum of painless mind modifications. How that bullshit radar called intuition is ALWAYS right

How like Adele, a heartbreak was turned into a ground breaking album and how Betty White distinguishes the vagina as the toughest of body parts  I can confirm to you that a journey of this sort will propel me to ride higher waves and appreciate not having a weak sac of balls to walk around with all day!

When you’re drowning, open your eyes and look at the fascinating beauty around you and focus only on that!

 

An Awakening

India is not just a country. It represents life in all its bitchiness, beauty & grace.

This is a mere rendition of little droplets of golden life that have happened after; what changed, what never will and how I refuse to ever wear the many layers of skin that I shed and left behind.

This time it spelt, monsoon, street food, sex pests, a Guru aka a Bitch, a Yoga journey, an awakening, a 1000 sheddings, 40 loo visits a day, the revisiting of my past and the similarity of childbirth.

Just in case this wasn't enough, it paralleled a short intense relationship, a dumping and the departure of my son.

What came after...

The most potent awakening, a clearer blue in my eyes and the skies above, a honed bullshit radar, the incessant need to let it go but let all know where they stand before, karma in its gentlest and most torrential ways, the difference between detachment and non attachment, the sin of dragging up the past to suffocate the present, a walking away from anything and anyone who misunderstands me, my dharma to make a difference and not to be liked, the death of my inner child and the rising of the divine feminine, encountering a dick, one that I am yet to encounter again;

The guru, the old soul, my son who continues to teach me about being a mother, having a heart and following a duty; ditching the old, saying thank you when you step on a thorn, my utmost joy of life, the termination of time wasting, saying it as it is and not fearing being left; being honest, staying honest, having integrity, high ethics and morals that rock the world, living like its nearing the end, coffins and death, following your dreams, being bald and bold, the divine aloneness; health and threats, pain as purification, accepting & surrendering, throwing storms when hurt, having a f**k it attitude, the art of healing others, womanhood, mankind being 'man not so kind' and not taking it personally;

Believing myself, being sensitive and a crumbling mess, self resilience, saying I love you despite anything, understanding that the behaviour of another has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with me, aggressive fever and using Yoga to heal it, losing myself, finding myself, life qualifications, being authentic, Patanjali and The Gita, not having enough of being alone, disappointing society & family,  minding my own business and the immensity of my heart.

Life will never be the same, I am not the same, my practise isn't either. The music I dance to is more silent & my vocabulary is minimal. I have no time for my shit let alone someone else's now.

about a son....

On my return and upon entering my house I experienced what every mother dares to visualise-a child who has left and is too young to miss out on. Sitting in the ghostly energy changed me. It first threw me into a creative frenzy of colourful design, than upon finishing painting my walls and decorating each corner with culture, colour & passion, I sat, meditated and allowed God to speak. My soul was listening and the next steps became clear.

A mother's love is potent, it is also hard and a child must learn that the grass is never greener on the other side. Loving them is letting them choose, allowing them to experience and feel their choices with all their ebbs and flows. This brings grounding, respect and sweet love. I learnt a lot, he learnt even more!

Lessons- non attachment is a sweet letting go of who you love. Tough love is what teaches the most potent lessons and a mother will always wish to carry on the duty and see a child grow whilst the time is ripe. Losing out on that is a sin that goes beyond punishment

 

about integrity, the stench of shit and intuition....

When another soul looks in your eyes and expresses niceties and soulfully asks you to inhale, absorb and believe each word, to, then dumping you only hours later, does nothing but teach you a little crash course about integrity. When somebody offers you their hand during a weak moment only to take it away seconds later, teaches you nothing but hard core self resilience.

My bullshit radar has always been sharp but it lost its edge with people's opinions and condescending assumptions about me and my intuition. Fingers point only at myself as I allowed society to stifle what lies inside. So, like a lost sheep, there were times when I followed the outside 'noise' more than the true voice within.

This time however, I wasn't prepared; I was struck with the most blatant of liars; a person who had chewed off a little corner of my heart, stalked me with words and lured me into the fairy tale.... and that was it. I got slapped and it left a mark, a mark that deserves to be worn & embraced!

 

I needed it. It now marks the potent comeback of my good old bullshit radar. It is now honed, sharpened & carried in my back pocket for daily use. It is there to stay. Now, I have no more days left to excuse, give chances or allow doubt. Any outside opinion stamping me with judgment can be gagged and shushed. The bullshit will be smelt from very far; even on those who are stuck up their own backside masking the stench of shit-I will smell that too!

On the other hand, times in the distant past, integrity wasn't always a part of my essence and I chose unwisely and cowardly but I promise, karma knocked on my bronze door and spat at me harshly.

Hand on heart, I believe this was the final cut.

The lessons-keep it real, listen only to the voice within, like a shit torpedo floating in the loo, flush any bullshitter down the drain...in one instant, listen to your heart but take your brain with you, hold on to your centre so no wind can sway you,

about health, life & death...

Take it seriously!

India splashed me with a bacteria that is still lurking. Being back there will not be on my agenda but boy did it teach me about the toxins we carry from past lives and how they come to the surface for attention and healing.

Lessons-I commute from my bedroom to my kitchen in a sloppy sleepy mess every morning saying thank you after thank you for being on my feet, for having a heart beat, for Yoga and for all the beautiful mess I may be in.

I fell in a deeper more pathetic love for life

These little golden droplets have strengthened an era in my life and created a chapter in my book. Seeing the blessings is the only lesson.

My mojo is funkier and my fearlessness is bold and very loud.

 

Yours in Words

Janet

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