I am the Caterpillar

I have just 3 weeks left living in Hampstead; the place, that for the last 2 years, I have called home. I cannot believe that, in less than 1 month I will have left all of this behind, lock, stock and barrel, and swapped the daily commute into Soho for the sandy shores of Koh Samui. I can’t wait. But there are moments when I am terrified.

I haven’t written much this year and to be honest I’ve been deliberating about what to say. I don’t feel like I’m capable of composing anything dynamic, entertaining or even remotely witty. My mind has become numb with waiting for something to happen.

Do you remember that game when you were a kid – stuck in the mud? You’d run around until you got tagged and then you just had to stand there – stuck – watching, while everyone else carried on with the fun. Well, that’s me. I’m caught completely and utterly in the land of limbo. I am nowhere. I am no-one. I am the Caterpillar, bound in a chrysalis of its own making, trapped, whilst a transformation takes place.

My world feels a little confused. I’m stood (stuck) here straddling the proverbial travel bug, with my left foot in the UK, my right in Asia, and my head somewhere in the clouds. As a consequence I am beginning to feel like I’m walking around in a life that simply doesn’t belong to me anymore.

The trouble is, I pretend to care, but the same level of enthusiasm just isn’t there. I’m having a complete identity crisis, suffering a total loss of confidence both in the office and on the mat, and God, am I bored. Bored of the saving and the staying in and trying to maintain discipline over my practice, when really I’m itching to let my hair down, stop worrying about every single transaction I make, get drunk on ludicrously expensive cocktails in a posh bar, wearing a posh dress and dance on, under and around frankly whatever I can get my hands on. There is only so much more Strictly come cook it on ice that I can take on a Saturday night.

Christmas was my milestone for plans getting underway and the real countdown commencing, but then January arrived and I remembered just how tedious it is. The weeks, along with the seasons snow, finally melted into the month of February and suddenly I don’t have so much time on my hands.

I have now ditched classes in favour of practicing Mysore style at Triyoga off Carnaby Street and there is something about rising at 6am and creeping through deepest darkest Soho at dawn, before most of London has even had the opportunity to reach for the snooze button, that makes me feel smug. At least that is until the guy on the mat next to me literally starts to levitate through his sun salutations and it puts my humble attempt at the primary series into perspective.

Nevertheless, whilst I may not be able to perform such incredible displays of strength, control and elegance in my postures I know that I’m not all bad either. I have a starting point from which to work. And, Ashtanga is a hard practice; something to be both mastered and marveled at. I do not feel that I will now progress too much further without the precise guidance of a teacher and a quieter setting.

You see it’s hard to break old habits and enforce an entirely new way of living in an environment to which doesn’t suit it. Not only does it comes across all wanky, Gwyneth Paltrow and no fucking fun at all, it’s actually quite challenging to focus internally in a city that vies for your attention and drains your energy in every possible way. Not to mention my flatmates penchant for (loud) war games at all hours of the night.

Occasionally, very occasionally, I have moments when I wonder what I’m doing this for. There is part of me, just a small part, that wants to reject the whole idea and let things go back to the way they were. After all, wouldn’t that just be so much easier?

Well, the answer is simple. Of course it would. But, there are also moments when yoga makes me feel like life is so damn beautiful it brings me to tears and gives me a sense of peace and of joy that I would go to the ends of the earth to explore. It’s as though someone has let me in on a wonderful secret and it makes me sad that its been shared with so few people.

Besides when did choosing the easy option ever make life interesting?

Rightly so, I do have to question my own sanity sometimes. It is true that I’m sitting in night after night, when I have one of the worlds most vibrant capitals right outside my door, so I can leave a good job, great flat, nice friends, wonderful family, etc., in favour of… well, who knows!

The reality of the situation is that I am sticking two fingers up at everything familiar and taking one massive, giant leap into the unknown. I’m running off with some vague notion that I want to study yoga, possibly even teach it, for reasons that are entirely unquantifiable and based on nothing more than pure instinct alone.

The truth is I’ve never been that content with the job/house/boyfriend package. Regardless of how good any one of them was at a given time – even when I happily had all three – I was always left somewhat selfishly thinking, is that is? I just don’t seem to be satisfied with what so many settle for. (I am aware of how self important that sounds, but bear with me.)

You see, it was a seemingly random chain of events that brought me here; delivered me to this path. Knocked me down and smacked me awake. It’s hard to explain without going into the some lengthy detail, but needless to say that there are no coincidences in this life and nothing is ever, ever random. Least of all this.

For that reason, I trust it. It sounds mad, but to me nothing has ever made any greater sense.

The day I realised what I had to do I cried because it suddenly seemed so obvious, like it had been staring at me, pulling a silly face all along, and I knew there was no-way I couldn’t pursue it. Yoga is the one thing that has suddenly made absolutely everything in my life fall into place. It became the connecting thread that tied everything together - all my hopes, dreams, desires, beliefs, experiences and perspective on life.

So here I am, with a plane ticket and no plan beyond spending my first month completing (I hope) my teacher training with Paul Dallaghan.

Those who know me know I am not in the habit of taking small steps, doing things slowly or listening to well-meaning advice from others, much to the despair of my long suffering parents. If I want something, I want it all and I want it now. Sometimes, my impatience gets me into trouble, but too many people walk through life scared to do anything, to even try. Surely it is better to try and fail then to never try at all?

Besides, isn’t it fun to take the odd risk and test yourself to see how far you can push the boundaries of your comfort zone?

They say the most rewarding things in life are often whose which pose the greatest challenge and there is nothing like being scared shitless to help you understand yourself a little more. Let us remember that it is not the challenges which face us, but the way we face our challenges that shapes us into who we are.

There is something about travelling which is condusive to creating chaos. And, I anticipate travelling and trying to get to grips Indian Philosophy, Sanskrit, Asana’s and more, all whilst on the road, will provide its fair share of testing trials too. Away from the expectations of those who know you and the routines which falsely define us, we discover sides to ourselves that we never knew existed.

I cannot wait to shake off the shackles of life in London and see where the tide takes me if, if I just drift. I am putting myself in the lap of the Gods and surrendering to the knowledge that there is a greater plan in play. Just no-one told me the rules yet.

Don’t get me wrong, it has been a blast, but I’ve always felt like I was killing time in the airport lounge of life here. My destination, unknown.

That’s probably why my patience is being tested so severely. Whilst I may have only been planning this trip for a matter of months, in many ways I have been waiting for this my whole life. I can’t explain it, but I feel like I’m going home.

Bring it.

Practise and all is coming

It's been a significant amount of time since I have written anything. For this I have only myself to apologise to, as I know it is a symptom of my indifference to life in London right now and to write about it, is to acknowledge it. I'd rather stick my head in the sand.

But Guruji said - Practise and all is coming.

Lately, it seems I have been continuing my practise to keep me sane and as an antidote to the winter blues and all the frustration that has been weighing me down.

Tonight, I feel like I have just had a break through moment though. And, for the first time in a long time I am reminded why I fell in love with yoga.

Despite an extremely lethargic ashtanga session early this morning and dreaming of being reunited with my duvet all day, I suddenly woke up on the way home. My mind became far too active, flitting from one topic to the next without actually turning up anything useful. Not wanting to be pre-occupied with what colour I should paint my nails all evening and what I should eat for lunch tomorrow, I decided to experiment with a few inversions as these are known to be very grounding at the end of the day.

I started with a headstand, still with a little assistance from the wall (only to reassure me I'm upright) which felt great. I have been experiencing real trouble with my balances lately, I suspect because my mind is so unsettled, but I held the posture for a few minutes and was very stable and very aware of my point of balance. And, it didn't really feel like any effort. I was just hanging out there, upside down, like Kevin the Fruit Bat.

I continued with a few handstand preparation exercises, but couldn't quite find the balls to go all the way up. So then did a little door walking which terrified me last time I tried and my shoulders protested too much to be able to stay up there. This evening proved to be more succesful entirely and I was actually able to stay put for a good few breaths. This is progress.

However, the real reason I am excited is that all of a sudden I am able to do a full back bend - which has continued to completely allude me... until now. Usually I get stuck half way up and collapse on my head.

I don't even know how I did it. I know it is the one pose that you're not supposed to think about too hard, but that doesn't usually work. Usually, the compression in my back and pressure on my shoulders and neck taunts me like a playground bully. But tonight I got into position, pushed, breathed or possibly breathed then pushed and I was floating above the floor.

And, I can honestly say it felt absolutely amazing. Far from being painful and heavy, as I had expected, I felt weightless and completely liberated. I was totally lost in the absolute purity of the moment and the joy that comes with it.

This is what Yoga is about. This is why we practise.