It been almost 2 months since I left for Texas to finish the 500 hour Integrative Yoga Therapy Training I started last August at Kripalu. We were lucky to be a small, cohesive group of 22 students plus a handful of teachers, and equally lucky to be staying on the grounds of a Hindu temple, with roving peacocks and truly delicious vegetarian food.
Within the first 4 days of my 2-week stay; 2 amazing women communicated several interesting things to me. First, through Ayurvedic diagnostic skills, including reading my tongue and taking my pulse, I was told that I have ancient grief, deep residing exhaustion and mild inflammation. Maria also shared valuable structural information, asked pertinent probing questions and gave me a program which I do daily, but the grief, exhaustion and inflammation are what stuck.
Later that night, as my massage therapist hands were on my mid back, she informed me “I caught something on the plane.” Skeptically, in my mind, I ran through how I was actually not feeling sick, but didn’t want to hurt her feelings so stayed quiet. When she then asked if “I was scared on the plane ride out” from NY and said that “I had caught fear on the plane,” I had to collect myself. I remembered my FB post as I was taking off from JFK mentioning my nervousness (the still vanished MH flight 370 was in the news non stop), my wavering visual aura after take off, and the conversation with my partner during the 2 hour Florida layover about my (atypical) flying anxiety, and I had to concur with her.
The third event happened in my next massage appointment one week later. When working one my left SI joint, Debora suggested that it was possible that someone was living in my pelvis, though she was not sure. It was late, I was tired and heading back to NY in 2 days, and really did not feel the need to explore further. But when she suggested that we vocalize and breath together and see if anything happened, I could hardly leave her stranded, so joined in. We breathed, we vocalized and I had an image.
Once back in NY I intensified my Texas experience further by immediately starting a brutal two-week Ayurvedic spring cleanse with Maria. So, if hoping to get away from my ancient grief, my deep exhaustion, my mild inflammation, my fear, and my historical drivers and wounds, I was structurally unable to – as two weeks away is an experience, but four weeks is a process.
My 15 year-old son, Dylan, was appalled by my Texas stories and ridiculed my experiences with great charm. He made me laugh and of course my NY friends listened with great interest. My friend Lisa, thinking about the drowned Cambodian prostitute catastrophe of last spring, suggested that I start writing these experiences down. I have not been blogging since I returned and I would normally say it’s because I have been super busy, a lot is going on right now and there is never enough time, but I think really its been because I’ve not known what to share. I am stopping. I am feeling. And sometimes, I am even resting.
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