Just over four months ago, I sank into a seat outside Denver International Airport, exhausted, smelly, and more grateful than I've ever been in my life. Six weeks in Nepal had cracked my heart open and I was overwhelmed by everything I was experiencing, processing, and still grappling with upon arriving home. It seemed as though the foundation of my life had been shaken, and I was figuring out which parts were still standing, and which needed rebuilding.
I had gone to Nepal with my roommate and adventure partner, Sammy, for Yoga Teacher Training (YTT), a four-week endeavor that I initially hoped would help push me into more advanced poses, qualify me to teach at the studio of my choice, and yeah, teach me a thing or two about being present. As with many of my serious life decisions, I considered it rather lightly and dedicated perhaps alarmingly little thought to imagining what it would really be like. Although, perhaps that's for the best--I tend to enter situations with low expectations and a pretty open mind.
An immersive yoga teacher training is a unique space-- your sole purpose every day is to learn. To learn and listen and figure out how what you're learning about can apply to your own life; how it can make your life better, more fulfilling. And it's not like college where you go to learn but you're thinking about the 19 extracurriculars you're involved in and what you're going to eat for dinner and when you're going to see your friends and did you remember to call your aunt for her birthday and don't forget to exercise and are you caught up on game of thrones?? All of the distractions are removed. I turned off communication with my friends and family back home. Some days I never left the hotel that our training was taking place in. I woke up, went to class, ate, went to class, ate, went to bed.
And it was illuminating. Once the jetlag went away, it was amazing how much focus I had. The incentive to pay attention was high to begin with-- guidance toward a better life? Sounds good to me. We delved into the mind-body connection, examining the way our thoughts manifest physically; we contemplated the nuances of love and possession and the traps we fall into with each; we considered food and sleep and sex and how each benefits us as human beings. We studied dependence vs independence, attachment and non-attachment. Healing past wounds. Forgiveness. Being open-minded, being vulnerable.
And of course, there was the physical aspect. We had asana class twice a day-- three hours of learning new poses and getting deeper into old ones while we strove for greater strength and flexibility. We had pranayama--learning to use breath to expel that which does not serve us and inhaling that which does-- and meditation--learning to sit in stillness; extending our spines as we extended our inner knowledge. It was exhausting. It was liberating.
I learned from the journeys of the 14 other students experiencing the same world-upending as I was, as well as from the four teachers who each brought something different and revealing to the table. Over the course of four weeks, we bonded as a group over our vastly different backgrounds and life-paths that all somehow led us to converge on this speck of time and space. I found myself caring far less about achieving my teaching certificate than I did about trying to put in the work our teachers were asking of us, difficult, painful, and exhausting as it promised to be. Inspiration struck me from all sides as each of my peers revealed some nugget of wisdom or showed me a new perspective I had not previously considered.
Sammy and I had originally planned on doing a multi-week trek right after our program ended, but toward the end of training we were so exhausted that it didn't seem realistic. We set a more leisurely pace for the remainder of our time in the country, taking a few days just to process ("process" to be interpreted here as hopping from cafe to cafe, eating and journaling endlessly) and figure out new daily routines. We trekked through the countryside, watching sunrises and wondering at the sheer majesty of the Himalayas. We took in everything we could, feeding our bellies and our souls on the beauty of the country around us: the warmth of the people, the lush green hills, the fresh fresh food. As we traipsed through the thicket, we saw baby rhinos in their natural habitat, and elephants who helped keep order in the jungle.
After the beauty of the countryside (and one really long bus ride), we confronted the bustle of the city. Kathmandu, so thrilling in its craziness and bright colors, with monkeys swinging from the telephone wires. We balked at the inescapable heat and rejoiced in $3 delicious lunches (endless momos!) and fresh fruit smoothies.
Throughout the six weeks, there were a lot of moments and situations that presented themselves as personal challenges--small things that would normally get a rise out of me, or maybe that I would even let ruin my day. It was almost as if the universe was waggling it's eyebrows and saying "okay, Zen Julia, but what are you going to do if.... THIS happens?" For example, I was so inflexible and jetlagged for the first few days it was actually laughable; I couldn't meditate for 2 minutes, let alone the entire HOUR of class. It was unbelievably hot, and our electricity was out half the time (no fan, much sweat). I accidentally hyper-caffeinated myself not once but TWICE and had two completely sleepless nights (the first, the night before I taught my first yoga class; the second, before getting up to watch the sun rise and trekking 10 miles). I forgot my debit card in America and had to rely on other people for cash (reason #463 my roommate is a hero). I never got used to the general lack of toilets or toilet paper. We let our visas expire and had to pay giant fines so that we could leave the country. I got dust on my camera sensor and there was nowhere to get it cleaned so EVERY PHOTO I TOOK (in unedited form) has 13 giant dots speckled across it. We got stuck on a bus for 12 hours for what should have been a four-hour journey. You get the point: it wasn't all blissed out zen and endless epiphanies while sitting on the beach drinking piña coladas. But each potential frustration highlighted my most important take away from my time there: non-attachment. For every potentially frustrating thing that happened, instead of getting really angry or upset or sad, I took it upon myself to try and remove my expectations from the situation, accept the natural state of affairs, and just move on from whatever had happened. Sometimes it didn't totally work, and I still ended up a little peeved about the situation. But it was amazing to see how my general thought process and reactions changed toward such inconveniences. It's not a habit yet--I still have to actively talk myself through not getting upset by stressful or potentially problematic situations--but the more I practice, the more free, and in control, and grateful I feel.
When it was time to come home, I was very ready to come back to certain luxuries and comforts. But it's no exaggeration to say I think of Nepal's beauty and the people that entered my world as a result of my time there, every single day. I could have done YTT anywhere in the world, and gone to explore Nepal on a vacation some other time, but it was indescribably unique and special to have them entwined in such a significant way. The culture of Nepal is infused with the same messages of gratitude, contentment, and non-attachment that we were studying as part of YTT and it brought a whole new level of immersion and clarity to the teachings and overall experience. Since coming home, I've found myself struggling to break habits of possessiveness and attainment that have been taught and reinforced to me by society for years. When I catch myself reacting unreasonably to situation, I try to pick apart my emotions, essentially asking "okay, what's really going on here?" and keep asking "why?" until I find the root of my discomfort. Sometimes I acknowledge it and let it be, other times I can recognize an old, unfounded belief, and realize that it no longer has a hold on me. It's all a work in progress. But at the end of the day, if I manage to find a little more headspace and show a little more appreciation for the world around me, then I'm content.
Namaste. Namastenamastenamaste.
Between notes for class and my own personal journal, I wrote a lot a lot a lot. Below are a few of my favorite snippets from my notebooks of thoughts and lessons.
- "We always ask when the last time a person did something for us was, but how about asking when the last time we did something for them was.”
- "There are many things I am skeptical of that I have been told/shown this week but I am keeping an open mind because I have been given plenty of reason to think that at least some of what the teachers offer is true and useful so why not give it all a fair try?"
- "We have different minds and that's what makes us great to each other and I don't know why I keep letting myself be drawn into comparison or competition because it's just not a relevant or necessary thing and is accomplishing literally NOTHING SO WHY ARE YOU STILL LETTING IT HAPPEN YOU BEAUTIFUL SWEET WONDERFUL HUMAN JUST RELAX & BE YOU & DO YOU & EMBRACE THE SIMILARITIES AND CELEBRATE THE DIFFERENCES & JUST SLOW YOUR ROLL & TAKE A STEP BACK & STOP JUDGING THINGS AS BETTER OR WORSE & LET YOURSELF LIVE LOVE & LEARN."
- "Scare away the chickens. Don't be afraid to show the depths of myself. if they are scared and run away, they weren't worth it anyway. How else will I find my kindred souls?"
- "And I know you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink, but you really have to make sure it's at the water, standing on the edge, looking into the lake or pond or river and that you didn't just give it vague instructions about how to get there and repeatedly yelling at it that it needs to DRINK WATER even though it can't feel its thirst and hasn't had water in so long it can't remember why it needs that and not the mud puddle next to its bed, because maybe MAYBE once it has a sip of water it will remember why it's so much better and that it wants to drink it and can get there on its own in the future, but it needs some help before it gets there."
- "Epiphanies and decisions are for me, and while support is never a bad thing, I should not let a lack of it diminish the clarity, excitement and peace that I feel when I reach a moment of decisiveness."
- "Sam and I finally bought chocolate. I ate 6 oreos and broke into a Toblerone and morale has increased dramatically."
- "When criticized, let it happen. If you react and it's not the truth, you do not have enough confidence. If you open your mouth to respond to criticism, you fail. If it's true, it will help you grow. If not, why does it bother you?"
- "Attachment. Whatever you look at you become--you look at a shirt, you are that shirt. We don't see objects as objects, we see them as the goal of the life. For example, when you experience a breakup, you think you're nothing without them. But nothing changed, you are the same! The attraction has simply become so strong you cannot separate yourself from it. "This is mine and I am this". For example a scratch on your car is like a scratch on your soul. But objects are for use. Use them, enjoy them, but don't be attached. You can't take it with you in the end. Remain without identification and you may enjoy as you please. But don't become attached!"
- "You as the universe, the universe as you. There is no such thing as selfishness. Doing things for humanity and one-ness."
- "It's not your job to fix people, their change must come from their own wanting. Just because you CAN fix them doesn't mean you should OR that they want you to. Let people talk their own talk. Worry about your own mind. Don't sink to their own level. Engaging in negativity will make you more and more negative."
- "How you let people interact with you is a reflection of how you interact with yourself. Self love. Self love. Self love."
-"Ask the world what you can do for it, instead of what it can do for you."
- "Filter your surroundings. Be careful about choosing friends. If your friends love clubbing and you're sad they'll be like lets go clubbing but if you surround yourself with people who love to read and talk, they'll listen and advise/make suggestions to lift you up. Energy attracts energy. Be careful. Re: people you're stuck with. Find limitations. When they cross that limitation, you can should and must leave. If you really love yourself, how can you let others hurt you?"
- "Don't force forgiveness. Let it take time. Even if it takes 10 years, at least it will be genuine. You can do duty without forgiving someone. Remember when someone hurts you, it's something inside them--they're unable to love themselves at that moment for some reason. It's not about you. It's their problem not yours."
- "I turned off my phone. I had already been scaling back, but after my talk with Rahul it seemed like the right move. An attempt at being more present, a concerted effort to prevent myself from spending too much time concerned with what others are up to, or seeking validation from external sources--letting my self worth tie too closely to the input of others. Times like right now, I am content. Sprawled on a couch in a cafe, The thrill (and comfort) of being in a foreign place that has become familiar. Out of touch with the world. I feel no need to post about my surroundings, and there are few people I wish I could talk to--though those are genuine and pure (I think) desires, that are not causing me pain in their non-fruition. Life feels good, simple, honest, pure. I feel in tune with the world, at peace with myself and my place in this moment, alone as I am. I need to learn to keep this feeling--to hold onto my mind in the space it's in right now. Only then will I be able to introduce the rest of the world and maintain where I am. A lotus, I must flourish as a lotus. A monk that can't be a monk in a marriage is no monk at all, but in order to hold true to those monk ideals, even in marriage, he must first develop those ideals. Right?"
