So, this is now my 7 week in Thailand and so far no blog post – what the hell have I been doing? Well, jokes aside, the truth is I have been too busy to even contemplate writing anything that wasn't a test paper, despite the fact that I originally created this space to discuss my journey into yoga.
Well, in short my life of late has gone a little something like this…
I left work. That was sad.
I packed up my flat in London and besides what I had in my backpack, left all my worldly possession in my parents loft (much to their delight). That was weird.
I flew out to Thailand, but not without encountering ‘the plane is broken, madam. Please be getting off isn’t it’ incident in Mumbai (where I was getting my flight to Bangkok), which lead to a comedy dash through Bangkok airport – 20 kilo pack on my back and all – to ensure I didn’t miss my connection to Samui. That, was not an experience I want to repeat.
So, finally I arrive. It’s breathtakingly beautiful in that stereotypical secluded way that Thailand is famous for. Despite the rest of Samui being a recess pit for the smoking, drinking (mostly) British public, Yoga Thailand is a haven.
The course itself is intense. And when I say intense I mean that on day one, I feel like I have never done yoga before. I discover the only thing worse than doing Ashtanga at speed is doing it painstakingly slowly.
Around a week goes by and by this time we’re into traditional Mysore style sessions. It takes me around 2 hours to get up to Navasana (boat pose) and not a day goes by that I don’t end up in tears. I can’t help thinking that I should feel better that my practise should be further; being in paradise, doing all that yoga. But I don’t.
Yoga, together with the Pranayama and Kriya’s (cleansing techniques) that we do every morning is powerful stuff – and all kinds off odd memories and sensations begin to arise, despite being long since forgotten and I realize that during the month here I will have to face a few demons. Not least my ego, which pokes fun at me during each and every practice, making me more and more frustrated with the poses that I can’t do.
After around 2 weeks, all I can think of it – why am I doing this? I mean I rise at 6am, just so I can down 2 litres of salt water only to vomit it back up (after the first day I ask if there is a tequila alternative… it would make asana practice more interesting… but there’s not), watch the sunrise whilst meditating on the beach (all very City of Angels), spend an hour doing breathing exercises (which make me cranky), sweat my arse off until it’s literally pouring into my eye balls (the sweat, not my arse – THAT would be a worry) during 2 hours of practice, only to have 2 hours free to eat brunch (not that I want anything, by now I just feel sick), before my afternoons are taken care of in a range of classes covering chanting, philosophy, asana study and anatomy. Then in the evening theres sing songs with Irish smooth talker jack Harrison, 'educational' DVD or more Kriya's.
But I stick with it and realise that it is of no business of my ego what my body does during asana practice, so I step aside and don’t let my mind get involved. When my body is ready I will progress. Ashtanga is an organic process, you have to let it evolve on its own. Besides, there is always, always going to be something I can't do. If I get the primary series down then there's the 2nd and the 3rd.... always more. After that, things seemed to improve.
Stress is mounting by the 3rd week and we’re all feeling like we simply can’t absorb anymore information and there is a lot of anxiety in the camp. It seems a little crazy to me that I’ve come half way across the world and PAID for an experience that I was being paid to do back home.
Clearly, we all need to brush up on our yoga sutra’s and practice what we preach.
As with all stories though, it has a happy ending. My Sanskrit oral, teaching practical and written philosophy exam goes really well. Although during my teaching session I was compared to a cruise missile. Apparently, if the army were looking for yoga teachers I would be perfect. I decided to take that as a compliment…
In between the yoga, there were always the girls (and guys) to hang out with – my yogini sisters, who came to mean so much, plenty of studying, walks along the beach, crazy Qi Gong sessions and ‘off the matt’ jump arounds that would rival any dance routine those Thai prisoners record and stick on You Tube!
Since leaving I have had some time to reflect on the whole experience and have to say that it was incredible. I have no doubt that is has deeply affected me and my practice in ways that are yet to be discovered. I met some incredible people and as cliché as it sounds, made some life long friends. Guya, if you're reading this, I love you.
After leaving Yoga Teacher, a qualified Ashtanga teacher (whoop) I was launched into Tourtistville hell – and forced to join the throngs of drinking and smoking holidaymakers so I could meet with my parents for my dads 60th birthday. Happily, we’re on a reasonably quiet beach, although it still comes with it’s fair share of ‘death by synthesizer’ style entertainment but we end up having an absolutely awesome time. I never knew my parents could be so adventurous. We dived off boats near Koh Toa and ended up swimming with sharks (well, one shark, but it was pretty sizeable, had big teeth and a blood thirsty glint in its beady eyes) and I watched Ma and Pa zoom off on a Jet Ski looking every bit James Bond and the sunkissed blonde.
Now, I am on Koh Phangan, which is a welcome break from the commercialism on Samui. For now, I am basically living on a beach, in what can only be described as a tree house, that can only be reached by boat, haven’t worn shoes for days and the only item of clothing I’ve unpacked from my backpack is a tie-die dress. I’ve definitely crossed over to the dark side!
There’s a hippy-ish vibe on this island, that I find inviting. And (this one's for you Amit) everyone talks frequently about how great the energy here is. I may stay a while. I have a few ideas of where I might go next, but no actual plans. I was going to do a course on Kundalini and Tantra, but keep hearing mixed reports and rumours that the organization is actually a cult and the Swami is super sleazy… uhm… and I have a volunteer job lined up in Dharamsala, but not until rainy season – so, I leave the British summer behind, so I can be in the rain in India? Really? Still, it would be charidy. For now I’m putting off making any kind of a decision, until the decision chooses me. I guess I’ll move on when I get bored of the hammocks.
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