The end of the course

There were many things about the course which surprised me; the strict timetable, the fact we had to ask for a pass to leave the premises, the number of lovely people on my course, the fact a role call number was called out at random during Satsang (blimmin Satsang) so that person had to lead a chant (nerve racking - thankfully I escaped selection) but nothing surprised me more than the behaviour of some of the teachers at the end of the course. Two in particular, Mani (Director of Yoga) and Sri Nagarajji (lecturer in Bhagavad Gita).

At school  there were always certain teachers who struck a cord with the students. Mani and Sri Nagarajji were clearly the two favourites. Mani because he seemed to get the mood of all us and aside from the fact his yoga classes were utterly amazing; in terms of developing our flexibility but also challenging us in standard and advanced asanas but in judging the mood of the 'people' he always managed to have a story up his sleeve which would totally sum up how we were feeling and cheer us up at the same time. 

At the end of our last asana class he prostrated in front of us. Apologised if he or anyone else had done anything to offend us during our time at the ashram but explained they were trying to teach us how their masters (Swami Sivananda and Swami Vishnu Devananda) taught them but they are human and not perfect so naturally can make mistakes. People were crying - it was pretty moving.  

Sri Nagarajji was just a whole bunch of cuteness. He was in his 80's, very active, wore little round rimmed glasses and was about 5.5 - like a little pocked sized chant box - he adored chanting and the Bhagavad Gita scriptures too. He loved to chant them. He was utterly thrilled when we joined in. How could you not when he was so enthusiastic about them. At the end of our last lecture we stood up and gave him a standing ovation - he cried. Like Mani, he apologised if he'd made any mistakes during the course. Again, more tears. A little lesson acceptance there along with how demonstrate complete humility.

It was Sri Nagarajji who gave me my certificate when I PASSED THE COURSE. Yes, I made it. I'm now a qualified yoga teacher. Very pleased with myself especially when I picked up a leaflet advertising yoga classes which read 'trained in the gulakula system (tick), in-depth knowledge of main yoga scripture, Bhagavad Gita (tick) and yoga philosophy (tick), trained at a world famous ashram (tick, tickety, tick). I must admit it felt rather good.

I never, ever thought I'd be a qualified yoga teacher - oh, the irony. I used to snigger at people practicing yoga on the beach - no I do it myself! Hahaaa. If someone had told me before I left for my big trip in July 07 that eighteen months later I would be spending a month in an ashram and come out a qualified yoga teacher I would've pissed my pants laughing, sparked up another fag and downed whatever cocktail I drinking at the time or a vodka tonic out as the mere thought would've made me nervous. When I left the UK for my big trip I had a bottle of vodka under my arm - I returned to the UK nearly a year later not drinking or smoking with a yoga matt! It brings an ironic smirk to my face every time I think about it.

So aside from gaining a qualification, learning how to pronounce Sanskrit (traditional Indian language, with 52 letters in the alphabet so totally different sounds), extensive knowledge about my own behaviour, thought patterns, ego (finally admitted I have one) and becoming more disciplined than I could ever have possibly imagined (I wake up at 530am to meditate and practice yoga before I teach my first class - er, hello?!) I also met some incredible people and made some life long friends. In fact it's not until after a month later, now I'm writing this, that I'm starting to fully appreciate how many ways I benefited from the course.

I was told a number of times the course would change me - I completely under estimated just how much it could and did. A transformation no less? You'll have to see that for yourselves but I certainly feel a whole lot different.

OOoommmmmmmm

(still got my sense of humour though!! LOL)

Hugging a living saint

Amma had been on my radar for quite sometime. Her ashram is situated in Kerala, just outside of Kollam so she's very much viewed as the Guru of the state so I'd heard a lot about her during the times I'd been back and forth to Kerala. I'd met and read about numerous people who'd experienced her legendary hugs, stayed at her ashram and basically followed her tours around the world. As one rather obsessive woman told me ' I live for Amma - she is my everything'. Er...okay. Each to their own and all that but really it was this statement that sparked my inquisitiveness towards Amma. I wanted to know what the fuss what all about. So I started reading about her - a bit of research no less. And what I found out was pretty impressive.

Firstly, she is a reincarnation of the Divine Mother so it doesn't get much bigger than that really. Aside from 'God' I suppose. She has millions of devotees around the world. Not one for being seduced by numbers I was more impressed about the fact she once cured a man with leprosy. She licked his sores - surely the fact she'd even do that makes her worthy of a saintly title regardless of the outcome? She was deemed 'special' from young age - born and breed in a small fishing village in Kerala from the age of seven she would regularly go into a trance and recite chants....for hours at a time. She is renowned for the humanitarian work she does around the world which she tours regularly. Thousands flock to see her. And she's known for her loving hugs. She'll spend up to 8 hrs a day, without a break (so no water, no nature breaks) hugging hundreds of thousands of people who come to see her. No one leaves without a hug which is like being embraced by the Divine Mother herself; healing and powerful. I had to find out for myself.

During the second week of the TTC (teacher training course) Krishna came up to a crowd of us and asked if we wanted to go an see Amma in Trivandrum - 'hell yeah' was my reply. Before I knew it two weeks had flown by and it was decision time. I had two choices - spend the day before the exam at the ashram and revise or go to Trivandrum and see Amma. Surely getting a hug from a living saint would guarantee a pass? How could I be sure though - I needed a sign. So I asked for one.

It just so happened for Satsang that morning I decided to save some time and put on half of what I was going to wear for the day under my uniform. So I had a had put on a white tee under my uniform yellow t-shirt and wore the TTC mandatory white fisherman's trousers. While we were chanting 'Bansuri, bansuri, bansuri' I asked for the sign to tell me whether I should go to see Amma or not. Nothing happened. Satsang finished. Still nothing.

I removed my uniform tee so I was wearing all white and grabbed a cup of chai and started deliberating over my options with Helen. Becc bowled up and asked if I was going to see Amma as I was wearing all white - the same as  her devotees. OMG a sign, a sign, a sign, a sign, a sign, a sign. It sealed the deal. If I'm getting mistaken for a devotee in the ashram I definitely should be going to see Amma - no question. 

Three cups of chai later and I was sitting on the bus chanting 'Jaya Ganesha, Jaya Ganesha, Jaya Ganesha'...'whatever happened to Hed Kandi?' yelled Helen clapping and chanting as we bombed along the road - good question - I knew if my friends and family could see me as I chanted and clapped wearing all white they would howl with laughter. To say I was fully embracing the devotee moment would be an understatement!

My Devotee esq get up turned out to be the VIP pass I never knew I had - well, that and the way the words 'OM Namah Sivaya' (mantra of Lord Siva) rolled off my tongue and my hands automatically went into prayer position at the same time. I instinctively did this when asking a real devotee for directions to the loo. She looked at me smiled and pointed me in the direction of the STAFF TOILETS. I wafted up the stairs on a cloud of spirituality to the loos, which in my mind by now were now glistening gold works of art. Again, my expectations were a little high and they were actually stinking squat loos but hey it was certainly better than the public ones.

I floated back on my gleaming, white, heavenly cloud to the crowds - we're talking thousands of Indians, some queuing, some praying all waiting to see Amma who hadn't arrived on stage yet. As I glided through the crowds, who also recognised me as a devotee, I noticed I began smiling at them in a knowing, kind way - least I thought it was. The small, old Indian woman, the cute little children...all received what in my mind was now a smile of pure goodness, light and love as I applauded myself on my patients with the crowd who were pushing into me. Well, that was until a rather small but determined little lady bulldozed past me followed by another 20 memebers of her family and nearly sent me flying and worse still threatening the cleanliness of my now slightly faded white attire. And that's when I came down from my cloud of spirituality with a rather firm bump - when I 'all of a sudden' noticed I was elbowing one of the small little ladies in her side to block her from passing me. Hmmm I could see this whole spirituality thing was going to be a little more harder than I thought...

A few hours later - and a lot more VIP loo stops - Amma arrived on stage so the sounds of wailing women. The atmosphere that was electric. Just being in the presence of someone so good, so enlightened was pretty amazing. Made the hair on my arms stand up. Thankfully the law of retribution had clearly over looked my scrum with a not so defenseless old woman and I received a hug within a few hours. It was a really surreal experience.

As I edged up towards the stage I started to recite my wish - you're 'granted' a wish when she hugs you - eager to ensure I didn't lose this opportunity with the Divine Mother. As I edged closer and closer to the stage I became slightly aware of the shoving and jostling surrounding Amma. You see in my mind I would gracefully wander up to Amma and prostrate in front of her. I'd then slowly get up, walk towards her and fall gently into her loving arms where she would hug me warmly, as she whispered to me words of encouragement and praise while I fully embraced the moment and silently made my wish. She would then release me from her arms and I would float off, a little higher up for the experience, on my cloud of spirituality.

What really happened was I was grabbed by two of her western disciples (majority of them are) who yelled  in my ear 'don't hug her, don't hug her, arms down, arms dooown' so much so that I actually thought for a split second that I'd transcended onto an other level consciousness where the military prevailed. Thankfully that wasn't the case but before I knew where I was the commotion and yelling ceased and I was in Amma's arms. For a second I heard nothing, it was a completely peaceful experience. Bliss. She whispered in my ear  'my darling, my darling, my darling' while I was thinking 'oh my God I'm being hugged by a living saint'....before I had time to even utter the first word of my wish I was yanked (with force I might add) out of Amma's arms.

I was in a daze, I wanted to fully absorb the moment of peace, tranquility and safety I'd felt for a second but no. No, no, no, no, no once again people aren't doing what I want them to do...I was rudely awakened with 'get out the way, get out the way....no, no, no she wants you on the the stage, Amma wants you on the stage - you're on the stage, you're on the stage..' I was back at the army barracks of Amma's disciples. I was overwhelmed at being yelled like I was on some kind of army exercise and also at the fact I'd been selected, by a living saint, to join her on stage. My rightful place surely?!

Ashram life

Life at the ashram went like this:

5.15am    wake up bell rings

6-730am  Satsang - would go on till 745am

730-8amchai break

8-10am asana (yoga) class

10-11am brunch

11-12pm karma yoga

12-1pm Lecture - chanting or Bhagavad Gita - would go ontill 1.15pm

1-1.30pm asana (yoga) workshop

130-2pm chai break

2-330pm main lecture - philosophy/anatomy - would go on till 350pm

4-6pm asana (yoga) class

6pm dinner

8-930pm Satsang - would finish around 945/10pm

Out with the old (part 2)

A week later the day for the long await Kriyas (yogic cleansing exercises) arrived. Seeing as the goal of all yoga teaching is how to concentrate the mind, how to discover its hidden facets, and how to awaken the inner spiritual faculties a serious of cleansing exercises assist nature in removing waste products....

There are six - nasal cleansing (Neti), abdominal churning (Nauli), upper digestive tract cleaning (Dhauti), colon cleansing (Basti), cleansing of the lungs (Kapalabhati) and steady gazing (Tratak).

As the entire class was doing the cleansing together thankfully we were giving Basti a miss (I made some life long friendships on the course but experience someone else's colon cleanse would be taking it a bit too far). We already practiced Kapalabhati and Tratak daily which left Neti, Nauli and Dhauti. I must admit this is the part of the course I had actually been dreading. You see Neti involved me inserting a catheter into my right nostril, right down and back through to my mouth. And that's not all....when I felt it on the back of my tongue I had to draw the catheter out through my mouth and then do the same again with the left nostril.

If you think that's gross then Dhauti is even better....I had to swallow a piece of gauze 3inches thick and 15 ft long. Dip it into tepid salt water. Place one end of the cloth into my mouth and begin to chew and swallow the line little by little. Then slowly take it out...along with all the phlegm with it. Eeewww. But that's not the end of the cleansing session. Dhauti has not one but two parts to it's cleansing process - the other being water purification of the stomach. I had to quickly drink 8 glasses of lukewarm salt water. Press my stomach with my left hand and put the fingers of my right hand down my throat and vomit the water back.

So picture, if you will, 170 people standing on the bank of a lake all basically throwing up at certain points as we pulled the gauze out of our stomachs, chucked up salt water and wiped snot from our noses...

The thing is I was pretty disappointed with it all. I couldn't throw up any salt water no mater how much I drank and I could only get the catheter up one nostril (due to my previous lifestyle choices) and I not as much phlegm came out with the gauze. Least not as much as I'd expected. You see I'd hoped to expel all of the impure elements in my body in one fail swoop. Not a little bit here, a little bit there. I was convinced there was more left to cleanse. There was no way my body only had that limited amount. I'd flippin abused it mentally and physically for years. If this was all that was left I would've carried on (joke).

It wasn't until about an hour later when I was seething with bitter disappointment at what was now a terrible cleansing performance - so much so that I went into full on self loathing mode - that it dawned on me maybe the cleanse had been more effective than I thought. And perhaps, just maybe, my expectations had been too high. Cue Meatloaf.

A few hours later, during the Bhagavad Gita and anatomy lectures, I was over come with tiredness. So much so I had to actually lie down on my yoga matt. Fully passed out. Then I had yoga and that's when the flood gates opened. So I left the class and watched the sun set and literally sobbed my heart out. For hours. Mani came over - I could barely see him through the tears and my puffy eyes (which now resembled the eyes of a heavy weight boxer after a match). He was really sweet. Told me I was release a lot of old stuff (clearly), probably from past lives (would make sense as I had no idea why I was crying and so sad) and it was all part of my spiritual journey. 'Aahh the rocky and unpredictable road of spirituality' I thought as I recalled Jesus being in the desert for 40 days. And there's me sobbing after a few cleansing techniques. Least I didn't have to go without food and water for 40 days while the devil banged on in my ear constantly!

Joking aside it was pretty intense experience. The thing is I wasn't alone. Thankfully I'd met some fantastic people on the course, we'd all really bonded so I sought solace with Marni, Anika, Helen, Harini, Jenna, Lindsay, Veronica, Kate, Giselle and Benny. The gang.. .all of which could fully appreciate where I was coming from having either gone through it themselves or were in the midst's of doing so.

The following day I felt pretty shaky - thankfully it was our day off for the week so I hung around the ashram, spoke to my family, drank chai and replied to emails....bit later on I was telling someone about what happened when they looked directly at my face and told me it had had opened up - so every cloud and all that....

Karma yoga

Karma yoga is the yoga of action. It's the dedication of all work as an offering to God, with no thought of personal reward and it was an integral part of the course; not just for those of us on the teacher training course but also for the 'yoga vacationers' who were on 'holiday' at the ashram too. The 'job' assigned could range from anything from sweeping the path, serving food, working in the boutique to emptying the rubbish bins. An hour each day was dedicated to this selfless service and it was mandatory.

Now I had a sneaky feeling before I arrived at the ashram that I would be given a job I wasn't going to particularly enjoy. Call it a premonition, a hunch or just the fact I knew my behaviour and actions hadn't been exactly a shining example to humanity. Nothing too hideous. I mean I haven't murdered anyone or anything like that but let's just say I have fractured a few karma 'laws' over the years. So I knew it was only a matter of time before the law of compensation caught up with me. The ashram seemed to be the most likely place it would - I figured I'd have to pay in one big go - and pay I did....scrubbing loo's.

It seemed rather apt - I'd even go so far as to say it was poetic justice (if it had been someone else)...so remembering that you suffer on account of your own actions, I decided to take it on the chin and look for the positives. I rationalised that at least I was cleaning the loo's in my own dorm so at least I knew they were clean, it wouldn't take longer than 30mins so I had an extra half an hour to 'play' with each morning and...well, I could only think of two positives...

Naturally I decided to do my karma yoga with good grace. I figured it would help me in the future. I decided to take the spiritual approach; be graceful, be happy, be dutiful...that was until I realised someone else was shirking their responsibilities on 'loo' duty. I was part of  team - there were supposed to be four of us and we split the areas which needed cleaning.  So one person would do the bogs, someone else the mop/sweep the floors, empty the bins and clean the sinks (cue hair balls - gross). I hadn't seen one woman since we'd been shown around the bogs and told what we had to do so assumed she'd been reassigned to something else.

The shirker was uncovered when I was asking Laura (in charge of assigning karma yoga jobs) for more bleach - the most reassuring smell in India - when she mentioned there were four of us scrubbers. Not so I told her - she asked me who been scrubbing with me so I went through the names and the shirker was identified. The cheek. I mean if I'm honest I was more irked with the fact I was too worried of the karmic outcome to put a middle finger up to the whole thing. What goes around comes around and all that. I also figured the law of retribution would catch up with me eventually and I didn't really relish being 'on the run' on the spiritual plane - I'd have to pay at some stage. Might as well be scrubbing loo's in an ashram after all, it could be worse...it can ALWAYS be worse.

But that didn't stop be being slightly aghast at the fact someone had the balls to not bother turning up. Didn't they have a karma conscience? Anyway, not my problem and all that - until the bog shirker cornered me asking why I said she wasn't cleaning the loo's. Eeek. confrontation over toilet duty - definitely uncharted territory, I mean I don't think I've argued over who's cleaning the loo since I was at uni and then we just decided not to bother cleaning them at all (leading to a rather unattractive skin complaint for some of us as a consequence). Apparently the lady in question had been scrubbing but at a different time to the rest of us only none of us had seen her so...whatever, I wasn't about to fall out over scrubbing a loo and as it turned out it worked in my favour - we decided to change who was cleaning which area so she got the loo's and I go the floors. Reeesult.  Divine intervention working at it's very best. But unbeknown to me the best was yet to come...

Two weeks later everyone changed jobs completely and I was to be working in the popular 'boutique'. To be fair the term 'boutique' in this context was used very loosely - my point of reference of a boutique is a shop which sells designer get up. However this one was slightly different - I was to be surrounded by books, clothes, cashew nuts, dates (luxury items in the ashram). But there's more, I got to use a calculator and fill out cards (boutique doesn't handle cash) while listening to chanting and chatting to customers.

I saw this as a sign - I was in credit with the universal laws. A first if ever there was one cause I'm rarely in credit on the physical plane let alone the astral plane. It felt good - a karmic promotion if ever there was one!

Out with the old (part 1)

'You will cry' words of warning from Mani, the Yoga Director who every female (and probably male) student lusted over at least once during Asana practice,  'expect it but when it happens don't be embarrassed, let it out - it's important you release whatever comes up for you as and when it does...you probably won't even know why you're crying'. So on one level I was prepared. Tears I can handle. Tears are toxic so I know when I'm crying it's actually doing me some good. It's therapeutic after all. Detoxing from coffee, screaming headaches and profile changing boils on my face is however, something else.

First the headaches, then came the vile mood swings and then finally - the cherry on the cake - boils. Dirty, big red ones. I tried everything under the sun to hide my new friends. And believe me when I say I have enough beauty products on me to supply the beauty dept of Harvey Nics. A variety of products were tried, tested and sadly failed - heat being a major factor...no one likes a sweaty (sorry, glowing) face at the best of times let alone when it's dripping with concealer. So I had no choice but to go with it - in true yogi spirit I had to detach. But it was hard. I was in a foul mood which I couldn't openly share with anyone so early on in the course for fear of being a social leaper. And I was sporting spots which looked like my family had pitched up on my face. People were actually focusing in on them when they spoke to me.  Not a good look.

Anyway, after a week or so the headaches had ceased, I was back to my sunny, bright self and my teenage spots disappeared - I seemed to have turned a corner on the detox front...or so I thought.

It was really strange when it happened. And I'd been warned. I people had spoken about it, I'd consoled various friends sobbing uncontrollably after lectures and asana classes so I knew it was only a matter of time before the same happened to me.

And so in week two it began....

I knew something was wrong when I started crying, during morning Satsang, when the Japanese students were reciting the Universal prayer in Japanese. At first I put it down to being tired. But then it happened the day after when the Russians where half way through the prayer and again the day after when the French were reciting it. Conversations with various friends ensued and all confirmed my fears - it's on it's way. The cleanse, the release whatever you want to call it.

So I waited....

The following morning tears started rolling down my face during meditation. So I knew by this stage it was imminent....

Then it happened later that same day - tears started rolling down my face during my Bhagavad Gita (main text in Hindu philosophy) lecture when Sri Nagaragi (probably the cutest man on earth) quietly said 'I vont' give up' when hardly anyone joined in with him as he chanted one of the verses from the text he loved so much.  And then it came. Like a Tsunami. Later on that same afternoon, during my afternoon Asana class and right after I'd finished my headstand. A huge surge of sadness and then tears started streaming down my face.

It's happened before - after a session with a spiritual doctor in Bali last year - so I knew what to expect in a way. That said I think having gone through it a second time doesn't necessarily make it any easier - I just knew it was good for me. It's strange feeling so sad but not knowing why. And it's even more unusual to have hot tears uncontrollably streaming down my face and not knowing why. And at the time all I kept thinking was to push out as much as I can, let go of as much as I could cause if I didn't I'd only have to deal with it later.

After a few hours I stopped crying and felt better - lighter.

The following day my practice was the best it's ever been - held all 12 asana's for a record amount of time, was more flexible and someone said Iooked better so something must have shifted. Phew. That's the end of that then....

Hard Lessons Learnt

From the very start of the course we were warned the month was going to involve looking inwards - self introspective. The intensity of course, the discipline, the yoga practice, the lack of sleep, the philosophy...in one of our very first lectures we were discussing the aim of yoga which is ultimately to achieve truth. And discovering your truth means you look at yourself. Your behaviour, your reactions and actions are under a personal microscope. It's basically like looking at yourself in a mirror non stop for four weeks. You see everything (and I don't just mean open pores) - you have no choice because whether you like it or not 'everything' is staring right back at you. And it doesn't happen all at once - least it didn't to me. It came in waves. Yep, waves of realisations at the most unlikely times - like during Satsang. In fact most of my realisations came during or after Satsang. I suspect mainly because I disliked it (at the beginning at least) so much.

It was mandatory to attend Satsang at 6am and 8pm for 1.5 hrs each day. Satsang basically consisted of silent meditation (which I like), chanting (which initially I found really weird) and a talk on philosophy (another tick). Fine in principle. I mean it wasn't as though this was new information. I'd read the course structure a zillion times. However up until the fourth week I pretty much loathed attending Satsang. And doing something I don't like doing, gracefully, has never been my strong point. So I found myself most mornings and evenings really battling with my mind ie having to stop myself from walking out of Satsang in a blaze of 'what a load of bollocks' glory - if I did and got 'caught' it was likely I'd fail the course.

So on one hand it was a bit like being a school accept I'd chosen to be there and I was paying for it too. Odd. Definitely uncharted territory. One of the things I initially found strange was the fact I was having to do stuff I didn't like doing. Normally I never would. And certainly wouldn't pay for it either. If I don't like something I ask for my money back. And then I had to rationalise the fact that I had a choice - we always do of course and like many times before when I'd insisted I had no choice, it was really a case of not having any choices I actually liked - so I could leave. But it was my choice not too. Hmmm.

Anyway, it wasn't until day 3 - just after Satsang - that I got my head about the fact that discipline was the name of the game for the next four weeks. And if I didn't like something I had to ask why? What was it bringing out for me in terms of behaviour, emotions. One person who seemed to bring out a lot of reactions in people was Swami Mahadevananda. The Director of all the Sivananda Ashrams and Centres worldwide and our course director. He would shuffle up and down the meditation hall in his orange robes telling us that facing up to our thoughts and reactions would ultimately bringing us face to face with we are, not who we think we are. Scary stuff especially when I rather like the factious version of myself - you know the one who's always right and perfect in every sense. ...

Nevertheless, we were encouraged to keep an open mind as this was effectively listening and that would lead to humility. The course would bring us face to face with ourselves and yoga (practice in every sense so not just the physical side cause here's the thing, it's not just about that it's a way of life (man)) will bring it out in us anyway and eventually, if you work at it, give you peace of mind. Simple then!

So you could say my month at the ashram was pretty heavy going. And intense, hard, a bit daunting but as it turned out one of the best experiences I've ever had. Obviously just how brilliant it had been until after I'd left!

Firstly I found it really hard to meditate which was hard for me to get my head round as I practice regularly. The fact I was spending at least six hours a day sitting cross legged on the floor was killing my hips (still hadn't managed to disperse of the exes) and my knee joints. There there was having to contend with people coughing, farting, fidgeting, the sound of Lions (there was a lion sanctuary nearby) shagging (at least someone was), then energy of 400 people was a lot to deal with.

And that's not all.

Satsang never, ever, finished on time. You see in the morning we had 30mins between Satsang and our first Asansa (yoga) class to have a cup of chai (didn't have brunch until 10am so it was chai or faint), and get changed out of our uniform (a sackable offence if it wasn't worn) in time for our first yoga class of the day. In order to do all of this (and go the loo) Satsang really had to finish on time. Except it never did. And it would drive me flippin crazy.  And I mean crazy....but I wasn't the only one. The first week was sheer madness. Everyone was rung ragged and literally running from class to class....complaining along the way. It felt like there was no time to do anything. We were given a roll call number - mine was 168 - so it really felt like yoga boot camp and then there was the dreaded bell that would ring to wake us up, alert us to a forthcoming lecture, satsang, brunch, dinner...I swear I will have a 'rabbit caught in headlights' reaction to the sound of a ringing bell for the rest of my life. My heart would literally miss a beat every time it rang because it meant I was going to be late for something. And on top of that we had homework, karma yoga (working for the ashram) so there was hardly time to breath let alone do anything else. I literally didn't stop all day. But of course that is the intention - so you're completely present at all times and not romanticizing about the past or fantasizing about the future.

Anyway, there I was sitting in Satsang (again), cursing the fact I was there and it was  running over time (again)because Swami Mahadevananda was banging on about something or other (again), when I started thinking about the course. We were being taught based on a Gurukula system which is over 2,000 years old. So you could say it's pretty established. Following it means you become part of a lineage. And yet there I was thinking 'they have it all wrong. The timings, the course content. The lot. They need to make some serious changes...' when all of a sudden I heard the Swami mention ego...'doesn't apply to me as I don't have' one I thought. That's how much of an ego I actually have (would love to say had but I think it' going to take more than a month to contain it let alone reduce it) - I genuinely didn't think I had an ego. I just thought that's what everyone else had. Honestly. But as the Swami went on to talk about the characteristics of an ego. I started to mentally flick through my memory index and shockingly there it was. Big and bold. My ego. And it was the first of many realisations. I froze at the sheer magnitude of it all. Not only was I having a realisation, but it was one over my (what I thought was nonexistent) ego and to boot Meatloaf's song 'Like a bat out of hell' was playing, full blast, in my head as I slowly but surely accepted the fact I had an ego and a pretty big one at that....

I won't go through all the various scenarios in masses of detail as to how, when and why I came to so many realisations - for fear of causing you to suffer from narcolepsy. However, below are the things I learnt about myself, behaviour/thought patterns etc (and Meatloaf's dulcet tones followed after each fact facing find....I figured if I was going to face up to myself I could at least have a bit of fun with it!)....

So in no particular order this is what I learnt:

1. Acceptance - that Satsang, lectures don't always (in fact very rarely) run to my timetable and this level of acceptance should be carried over into everyday life!
2. Patience - when people didn't walk, talk, serve as fast as I wanted them too....
3. Tolerance - every time I nearly broke my neck tripping over the flip flops outside my dorm - it was the same pair every time....left right in the middle of my path every, single time...cue flared nostrils.
4. Being judgmental - this baby came up for me so many times and by the end of the four weeks I was laughing at myself (I tend to that anyway but maybe not on an hourly basis). In the end every time I noticed I made a judgement I knew it was only a matter of time before I would be proved wrong (I know, the sheer thought shocked me too). For example two people who I had deemed 'irritating' at the start of the course, I later became friendly with. Go figure.
5. Power of thoughts - Every thought we have creates our perception and therefore our reality. Scary.
6. Ego - it's like a wild horse but it makes me laugh. I mean why everyone just won't do what I want, when I want never ceases to amaze me. I have no doubt I have the best ideas/suggestions and I know what's best for everyone. You know I create a great movie in my head like 'Nina in India - the sequel' of how I want things to be - exactly. And even though I'm the script writer, director, producer, head of lighting, sound, costume, design and I'm the leading star other people get in the way, don't do want I want and spoil it....I think you get my point! 
7. My behaviour/attitude when I'm doing something I don't want to do - shocking. The words 'petulant' and 'child' spring to mind. I'll leave it at that!
8. Negative thoughts towards myself - I was pretty shocked at this - no one can ever criticise me as well as I criticise myself. Takes a lot of discipline and focus on a daily basis to combat this bad boy.
9. Lack of trust in everyone - discovered the true extent of this practicing headstands, handstands and Scorpion as initially someone has to stand by you to catch you in case you fall (you always do). Took me ages to get to grips with these postures mainly cause I couldn't bring myself to trust the person next to me. Realised how much it upset them too which was another eye opener. Eeek!
10. Discipline - aha the benefits of being disciplined...who'd have thought I'd get my head round this. I certainly didn't but having experienced them for myself I can say I rather like this newly developed aspect of my personality! 

So there you have it. In a reasonably sized nutshell, all the realisations. Pretty personal you may think? Rest assured I've only shared the 'normal' stuff with you!

Ironically by the end of the course I was actually enjoying Satsang....all that chanting....jaya Ganesha, jaya Ganesha, jay Ganeaha...never again will I scoff at the Hare Krishna's chanting as they walk down Oxford Street. I had to chant Hara Krishna about a hundred times before I could eat!

Haare Ramaaa, Haare Ramaaaaa, Ramaa, Ramaa, Haraaa, Haraaaa, Haraa Krishnaaa, Haaraa Krishnaa, Krishna, Krishnaaa, Haraaa, Haaraaaa.....Haaare Neeeeenaaaar, Hare Neeeenaaar, Neeeenar, Neeeenar...sorry, there goes my ego again! 

Arriving at the Ashram

My arrival at the ashram wasn't what I'd quite hoped for - I had hoped to float through the front gates on a cloud of spirituality and half expected the receptionist to comment on my calm and serine disposition. Sadly a rather cheeky little rickshaw driver put paid to that idea. Rather than pulling up outside the front gates in a bubble of tranquility I actually arrived arguing with the rickshaw driver as he tried to double the previous agreed fare. Although I stuck firmly to the agreed price it meant the heated haggle left me red faced and irritated...and they say spirituality is hard - bet Gandhi didn't have this problem...but I suppose he would have walked anyway...

Now, I'd never been to an ashram until this very moment in time. I didn't have an expectation as such but one of the first things I noticed was the way everyone who works at the ashram greets you - Om Namay Shivaya which is the mantra of Lord Siva (don't you know). 'Om' (the first universal sound) on its own was also massively overused as was Om Namay Shivaya : 'OM can you pass me the pen, OM please be quiet, OM the loos are over there...' or to soften a request which on its own would definitely come across as terse 'Om Namay Shivaya can you move out of the way, Om Namay Shivaya only take one piece of fruit so there's enough for everyone, Om Namay Shivaya can everyone listen to my instructions carefully in the class'...you get the picture.

That said I nearly yelped with glee when I walked past a fellow ashramite as he put his hands in prayer position and said 'OM'. THEN he put his right had up to his heart, cupped his hand and offered it to me (a sign of love/peace)....I nearly wet myself with excitement as this clearly meant I looked like I belonged (arrival outfit was carefully thought out). Immediately wished I had 'fam-cam or mate-cam' so my friends/family could see some of the sights I was witnessing - sheer and utter quality!

Next stop was the dormitory - I was sharing with 32 other women. The dorm was divided up into four sections which slept eight, which was subdivided (by a shoulder high wall) into a cell which slept two. Naturally I a bit dubious about the whole dorm situ. I like my personal space so thought of sharing not only my space but showers, loos etc was pretty unappealing. Still I assured myself it was all part of the experience and besides I didn't have a choice - apart from leaving!

I needn't have worried - in fact I couldn't have asked for a better 'cell mate' and I knew immediately we were going to get on when she introduced herself to me, then hesitated and confessed it wasn't actually her real name. She'd recently decided to change it, the ashram was her new names first outing - and was trying her new name on for size so to speak (I agreed that I wouldn't mention her name on my blog ;-0). I asked if it felt a bit strange - my only point of reference to this conversation was the time I changed my name to Madonna but it only lasted for a morning due to public humiliation at school. She admitted the unease caused her to bottle out of introducing herself using her new name, to some people. Only she couldn't remember which name she'd used to which person and was acutely aware that some people were calling her by her new name, some by her old and she wasn't always responding to them so suspected they might think she had a hearing problem. Brilliant!

But that's not all - having two names was just the tip of the ice berg - after a while the conversation naturally turned to yoga and the usual 'how long have you been practicing for, what other types of yoga have you done' that sort of thing. Anyway, there I was thinking 'oh this is all very nice' you know an easy chat about the course blah blah when flippin 'two names' drops it into the conversation that she orgasms when she does leg lifts! Some people have all the luck.

Concerns about Ashram life.....

The build up to my arrival at the Sivananda Ashram started long before I actually arrived at the front gates. It actually started before I even arrived in India! A combination of minor frets and waves of excitement came upon me whenever I tried to think of what my experience would be throughout the month I was there.

The thought of being back in the class room didn't really concern me. Nor did waking up at 5am. Silence during meal times - not a problem. The yoga, studying philosophy, studying full stop, staying in a dorm of 20 women, potentially cleaning loos (karma yoga), not being able to do exactly what I wanted, when I wanted AND wearing a uniform (bring it on). Nope. None of that worried me. I had just two concerns before I actually arrived at the ashram; the thickness of the mattress I'd be sleeping on and bed bugs.

Now I had every reason to be concerned - after stint on a four day silent meditation retreat and lying on effectively hard plastic bed I had good reason to be worried about the mattress situation ie there not being one. But I wasn't about to let a small issue like a mattress ruin my beauty sleep. Having discussed the 'mattress-gate' situation with various friends I decided to run a potential solution past my most hippy-ish friend in the UK, Sophie.

'I know' I announced as we munched on raw tofu and brown rice at Mildreds our fav veggie restaurant,  'I'll bring my own.' A perfectly reasonable idea I thought especially seeing as Blacks have portable, roll up thingys. She nearly spat her tofu and brown rice out of her mouth in utter horror. 'You cannot arrive at the ashram with a mattress, it's social suicide.' 'Bollocks' I said defiantly 'if it's a toss up between a good nights sleep or giving up the opportunity to be a social butterfly then so be it - anyway I like a challenge. A mattress it is.' Sophie was horrified. So much so that it drove her to send me an email with her concerns and a few concerned 'riiiights' when I told her I was sticking to my plan in various phone conversations following.

So I was all set on the mattress idea until I realised the damn thing would take up half of my backpack. I had to be strong. I had to detach from material things. I had a choice: Marc Jacobs Daisy Perfume (my signature scent ;-)),bottles of Lancaster sun cream and all manor of other beauty must-haves or the lightweight mattress. So I detached. I ditched the mattress idea and reasoned avoiding skin cancer was far more important than a good nights sleep.

I'll be honest though, every time I applied sun cream or dabbed Marky on my wrists I did shudder at the thought of sleeping on a bed of steel for a month. In fact it's all I talked about when I arrived in Varkala, a month prior to my 'time' in the ashram or 'Shram' as I like to call it. cue LOL. In fact I think I bored my Varkala friends Nina, Joanne, Deirdre, Liz, Catherine and Meadhbh about my obsession. I deliberated over buying a mattress before I arrived at the shram or completely embracing detachment by leaving it to chance and arriving bare as it were. So there I was thinking it one way it was good I had only one thing to really fret about in a sort of reassuring way. That was until I met Leonard. He'd just spent two weeks at the shram on a detox course and horror of horrors...he had bed bug bites. Not just one or two. Hundreds of bites all over the backs of his legs. I recoiled in utter horror as he showed me the evidence AND also talked of seeing others with similar bites.

And so began my new obsession - how to avoid the bed bugs.....

I asked everyone I could - I even emailed the ashram to say 'I hear you have beg bugs, please can you ensure I don't get a bed with bugs in it'. I'm serious. I did that. They didn't respond. I was besides my self with worry. Until I met Cat.

I have Deidre, Nina and Liz to thank for introducing me to Cat and alleviating my worries about the bed bug-gate and also putting a spring in my step about the shram in general. The girls brought me a massage with Cat (Bengali masseuse - one of two in the world don't you know!) as a thank-you for the Reiki treatments I'd given them. After expressing my concerns to Cat, who had been to the shram, she  assured me a bottle of Lavender Oil on the mattress would see off any bugs. And then she told me some even better news....life at the shram isn't as pure as is they would lead you to believe. Nope. You see people actually cop off left, right and centre -. there's even a place near the lake opposite the shram where lovers go for some privacy. What fantastic news. There I was thinking I was about to live the life of a nun for four weeks when actually it was a potential hunting ground. Things were looking up. With this new information I repacked my rucksack accordingly and began smiling at the thought of bagging a hot man AND becoming a yoga teacher at the same time!

Visiting an Indian Family part 2

It wasn't until I arrived at Vinod's house that it dawned on me I was actually going to stay the night and what the experience might entail. I'd forgotten all the little things which make for a full and exhausting experience when visiting an Indian family home. Like being talked about in another language, being watched as you get up and walk somewhere, being asked where you're going even when you're going to the loo....basically any movement you make, anything you say, any expression you give is noted and commented on. Usually through laughter.

Now I'm used to people laughing at me - usually for the wrong reasons. In fact I think I probably humiliate myself on a daily basis so I've learnt to live with people rolling their eyes, chuckling or roaring (okay, so maybe that's a slight exaggeration) with laughter at something I've either said or done. Or so I thought....

As soon as I arrived I knew I was in for a strict scrutiny from his parents and brother. Generally Indians don't hold back - especially about how you look. If they think you're hair looks a mess, clothes are wrong, you've put on or lost weight, skin looks good - whatever their opinion rest assured you'll be the first to know. I've drawn breath in horror at some of the 'frank' comments I've over heard or worse still, been directed at me. Thankfully though the verdict was positive; I'd lost weight, I was in danger of being too thin if I lost more (culturally there's also a tendency to exaggerate), my hair looked 'better, much better' longer and I looked younger. Phew!

After been given the okay by the family - and I must admit I was definitely walking a little taller afterwards - evidently I was deemed suitable for public display and was taken immediately to see the rest of the family. That's right, grandparents, cousins, uncles, aunts, cousin brothers, sister cousins (I'm still confused at to what exactly the difference is between a cousin and a sister cousin) were all ready and waiting for my arrival.

Before I knew it I was sitting center stage on a plastic chair at the grandparents home. I was literally sitting in the middle of the room as his grandmother, grandfather, uncle, uncle's wife, cousins and so on looked at me (chuckling) and talking Malayalam (mother language for Kerala) to each other.

It was as this point that I truly experienced what it was really like to be laughed at - I decided to break up the hilarity by speaking to them....in Malayalam of course. And no sooner as I'd uttered the words 'namaste' they were virtually doubled up with laughter. Undeterred I continued with my pigeon Malayalam but they laughed all the more.

So there I was sitting pretty in my new outfit and everything trying to re balance their opinion of me after last time (where I got drunk) and they just stood there laughing at me. And there was me thinking I'd made progress. Seriously, you'd have thought they were watching a stand up comedian. And while I do like to tell myself I have a good sense of humour even I know 'how are you' isn't a side splitter...

Feeling slightly deflated I headed back to Vinod's for dinner. The food as always was fabulous but I noticed his mum ate after we (me, Vinod, his father and brother) did - I wondered how well that would go down in my family ie not very.

So feeling pretty thankful I didn't have to rely on my fathers generosity when it came to his leftovers to survive (sorry Dad!) I started to think about what we'd do for the rest of evening. By this stage I was feeling pretty tired. Not through lack of sleep but the constant attention and lack of personal space. I mean don't get me wrong I was having a good time but a different kind of good time.

Everything I said, every move I made was noted. We were all sitting in one room, right on top of each other; me and Vinod sitting at one end of the bed, his brother at the other, his parents sitting on chairs besides us. No space at all. Then when I wanted to get up to go to the loo instantly there's a 'where are you going?'. I was feeling really self conscious cause frankly I like to take a waz quietly, without any fuss. It's something I like to do ON MY OWN. But no that wasn't the case. I was in India after all and one thing I've learnt is to just go with whatever is happening. Don't try to control the situation.

So there I was trying not to be noticed in a room full of people. Just as I was about to arrive at the back door to go to the loo, I realised it was barricaded up. His dad took barricade (okay so two planks of wood) down and I, still embarrassed cause the entire family knew nature was calling, rushed out to the loo. As I opened the loo door I was thinking 'ahhh at last a moments peace'....when there standing right in front of me were two goats starring back at me. They were the family goats and had to be kept indoors during the evening. So there I was, taking a waz, while two goats looked on...I couldn't even take a piss without being watched!!

Bemused as the hilarity of it all and relieved at the fact I didn't suffer from stage fright when it really mattered - I went back in to the sitting room and squeezed in between Vinod and his brother and settled down to watch a Bollywood film. Aha, now this I can relate to - sitting in front of the telly. Bliss.

It was during the film that I started to wonder where I was going to sleep - I asked Vinod - he laughed 'in here'....so two hours later there I was getting ready for bed. I didn't even bother with changing - nor did anyone else - the rigmarole of it all was too much. Then it occurred to me that there was only one bed - again I asked myself and Vinod: 'where was I going to get my beauty sleep'. Well, the only bed was assigned to me. I couldn't believe it - no matter how much I protested his parents were insistent. The only bed in the house had my name on it. So while his mum slept on the floor (Vinod tried to consol me with the fact she used to sleep on sand in their old 'house' 'so the concrete floor with a matt was much better'...no, I couldn't quite grasp the concept either...) I slept in the same room on the bed. Vinod, his father and brother slept on the floor in the hall way. Can you believe it - his parents gave up their own bed for me!

The following morning I opened my eyes to his mum and dad both staring at me - they had been watching me sleep....ironically I only hoped my audience wasn't due to the fact I'd been sleep talking...

Visiting an Indian Family Part 1

I met Vinod while I was in Varkala last year - he was working in Cliff Manor where I was stayed for a few weeks. He's like a little brother and he kindly invited me to met his family last year - fyi it's a huge compliment to be invited to an Indian family home don't you know....

At the time I did my bit to improve relations between Britain and India by getting pissed on coconut toddy (deadly stuff) with his dad, smoking untold amounts of fags (Keralan woman never smoke so it was right up there in the inappropriate behaviour category), while trying to contain my laughter as his father did a very good mock-moshing impression to the Prodigy's 'smack my bitch up' which blasted from the stereo. I then passed out on the bed. Classy.

My days of generally humiliating myself (while under the influence at least) are thankfully well and truly over. So when Vinod invited me to stay overnight at his house, I was determined to make a more respectable impression second time round. Naturally this first involved buying a new outfit so if I did stumble on the unfamiliar path of respectability, I would at least look semi decent in doing so.

First stop to Suka's shop to purchase the necessities. Mindful of my historic tendency to fully embrace the traveler look I gave her a strict brief i.e. nothing florescent, or featuring any Hindu god, or slogan led or too ethnic looking and absolutely no Ali Babba trousers. She looked puzzled but I think she could sense the severity in my tone of voice and stuck firmly to brief. I settled on a beautiful silk skirt, tee and sandals. Simple but effective - I hoped. And more importantly I didn't look like I'd just left a rave on Anjuna beach.

Vinod lives in a fishing village on the out skirts of Alleppey. His father and brother are both fishermen and life is tough for the family. They have very little money and I don't mean in the sense of not being able to afford to go on holiday, buy a new car, go clothes shopping or debate on whether to cut back on the number of take away's they order each week. I mean they properly struggle. Their life style is beyond basic by anyone's standards and I'll be honest I really didn't anticipate the experience I would have. It was a huge reality check for me and at the same time it was really touching, rewarding and heartfelt. An unexpected combination.

The family home is built with breeze blocks and the roof is made of corrugated iron. There are two rooms - a kitchen which is about 8ft by 4 ft and has a tiny two ringed gas stove and a sink. The bedroom/sitting room is roughly the same size with a small double bed and the large TV is the focal point of the room. The small hallway, which separates the two main rooms, is adorned with pictures and mini statues of Jesus. In fact it's like a shrine to Catholicism with the bible laid open on a make shift altar. Even the light switch is surrounded by an image of the Pope. 

Naturally I have to comment about the loo situ. You have to walk through the kitchen so the door itself is outside - it's Western style and it's spotless but it doesn't flush so you have to pour a few buckets of water to move anything down the system. You can wash in there too but there isn't a shower as such so it's totally traditionally ie pouring water over yourself from a bucket.

I knew all of this before I arrived so going back wasn't a surprise in terms of the layout, their lifestyle and so on. What I hadn't bargained for was just how much I was going to get a real taste of Indian family life. I'd heard on many occasions how you're never alone in India, rolled my eyes when I was queuing for a train ticket and had zero personal space as I was pushed up against the person in front of me. I never truly understood the meaning of never being alone in India. Nor did I have an understanding of how the tiniest cultural difference which didn't seem like much on paper but was monumental when I experienced it for myself.

I have more baggage than I thought....

A realisation is a funny thing - it can be satisfying, thought provoking or sometimes really irritating. I've had a few realisations about myself since I have' been in India and this one I'm not particularly pleased about.

I decided to take my Reiki Masters course while I was in Varkala - yes, I've been studying. It may come as a shock but it's true - I am not just sunning myself on the beach or chatting with friends - although I must admit that does take up a significant amount of my time. No, I've been learning a new skill, adding another string to my bow, stretching my mind, which is all rather well and good except I didn't bank on uncovering yet another realisation about myself.

You see I was under the impression that I'd learnt enough last time I went away. Indeed it would even appear my 'discovery journey' continued when I returned to the UK.  It's pretty tiring all this 'looking inwards' especially when what you see isn't quite what you'd been telling yourself.

I'll give you an example: I can't drink, it leads to a a whole host of nonsense (mainly in my head) which I've decided I can no longer deal with. That's one realisation. Another is that no matter how many pairs I try on Gold Ray Band Aviator sun glasses do not suit me. I'm gutted. Mainly cause this realisation shocked me so much I had to purchase a pair of Oliver Peoples sunglasses at triple my original budget. Realisations can be expensive lessons. My realisation about the baggage in my life causes me extra expense too.

Take my rucksack for example. No matter how hard I try I just can't seem to pack the thing correctly without it feeling like I have a dead person on my back. I even left what looked like half a ton of clothes, toiletries and books at my friend Joanne's house when I left Varkala for Patnem. Still didn't make a difference - on arrival in Goa I waddled off the train and rather than take a bus the weight of my rucksack meant I had to take a taxi. When I arrived in Patnem, the sun beating down on my weary forehead and the weight of what now seemed like several dead people on my back, I had no choice but check in to a 'luxury' hut rather than walk up and down the beach searching for a cheaper option.

It appears the excess baggage in my life doesn't just apply to my rucksack. No. You see part of my Reiki is essentially about energy. Universal Life Energy. The energy is used for healing all sorts of mental, physical, emotional and spiritual disabilities. Emotions are energy too so if you have an unprocessed emotion which many of us do, the energy stays in your body.The location of the toxic energy is determined by the type of emotion. So grief and anger can result in problems with the shoulders, resentment and bitterness affects the lungs, judgement and criticism affects the teeth and gums and the list goes on.

All rather fascinating indeed but naturally when one is learning you look to yourself to determine what aliments you have which may need attention. My hips have always been stiff. They are the bain of my yoga practice - stiff hips. I have to work on them on a daily basis and it's pretty painful. So you can imagine my horror when I discovered the reason for my stiffness. My ex boyfriends.

Yep, it would appear that you hold your past relationships in your hip area. It explains a lot. Previous boyfriends have mostly been undesirables now it appears I have all of them in my hips. I've been spending the last week trying to 'remove' Gary, Kevin, Warren, Nick and those are just the relationships. God only knows how many other flings/dalliances/mistakes I have tucked up in there.

So you see I have more baggage than I originally thought.