Order in the Chaos and Chaos in the Order

There is one major highway that leads from Bengaluru airport to Mysore. I have been told that at one point in time, there was no median or lines in the road separating lanes. Luckily for me, there was a median but the lines designating lanes seemed to mean very very little. If you ever wanted to know, it turns out six cars can actually drive side by side on a three lane highway. While the drive was absolutely terrifying and chaotic, I trusted in the driver's knowledge of driving etiquette in India and that we would both make it to Mysore alive, and we did...

Then in an effort to fight corruption and end black market money, the Indian government has banned the use of the 500 and 1000 rupee bill. Overnight. No notice, just banned them. Now, all people with 500 and 1000 rupee notes have to exchange or deposit them. The exchange limited is 4000 rupees and deposit limit is 10,000 rupees. I can only imagine what all the grandmothers and grandfathers are going to do with all the cash they have been storing under their mattresses for ages. I am lucky at least. I spent all the money I had initially withdrawn and was left with only one 500 rupee note. Except I can't use it and ATMs are shut down, so I really have no money. But the coconut guy outside of Sarawati's Shala said I could pay him another day and so did the breakfast guy. So despite the chaos in waiting in a two hour line that gave me an express lesson on India culture to exchange the 500 rupee bill for 5 100 rupee bills, I got my money and I survived yet again to tell the tale...

Maybe all the chakra meditations and coconut water are getting to my head or all this asana has helped increase my patience and ability to handle bull***t, but what was I really going to do about it? Turn around and give up? Pull out my hair? Lose all decency and decorum and throw everything I have learned during my study of yoga out the window and start screaming at people WHAT THE F**K IS WRONG WITH YOU (which has surprisingly worked in the past)? When life doesn't go as planned, I don't stage a nutty, I have some chai and I take a shower, cause that's how it is in the NFL. All I can do is use my discernment and act and react when the time is right and necessary and not just when the time does not appear to be on my side. From my experiences, I trust that there is always some order in the chaos and chaos in the order and that I can never know what is going to happen until it happens. So I will let it happen and see what this chaos might bring and how long I can live in India with only 40 rupees to my name...

To the absurdity of life and my Year of Awe...

The first time I tried Marichyasana A (http://www.yogajournal.com/pose/pose-dedicated-to-the-sage-marichi-i/), the teacher whispered in my ear that this is when students quit Ashtanga yoga. I cracked a smile. Please. I used to walk a mile in 90 degree heat to teach an English class that no one showed up to for 3 months. If this teacher thought a yoga pose was such a hit to my ego that I would quit, then we obviously never officially met. If you have read anything of my time in Peace Corps Morocco (http://thebookofcia.blogspot.com) then you know I have very little dignity left.

A combination of my t-rex arms and shoulders wound tight by the stress of managing a yoga studio make binding postures at this time highly improbable. I have been doing morning Mysore now for almost a year and the bind is still elusive to me. But what is great about yoga is I have lifetimes and lifetimes to accomplish a pose, so I am not too worried. If I don't get it in this lifetime, maybe the next one? Plus, I am so used to putting all my stress and anxiety in my shoulders and lower back, if it was no longer there, WHAT WOULD I DO with all this newfound freedom and ease!? I CAN'T LET GO OF MY SUFFERING!!

I felt so witty when I made this quip to my yoga teacher after he asked me to release the tension in my shoulders. But as he walked away to assist the next student, it began to settle just how absurd my life is right now. I am so easily caught up in the annoying email, answering the same question over and over again, and seemingly endless work that comes from trying to make something work and grow given the inherent fear of change that we all posse. I have been so stuck in the mud that I have lost site of the grace and awe around me. I teach yoga for living and wear yoga pants EVERY DAY. Honestly, WHAT MORE COULD I WANT OUT OF LIFE?!  I am so stuck holding onto my suffering and the tension in my shoulders, that I fail to see what could be possible if it was no longer there...

I leave today for Mysore, India where I will study yoga for two weeks under Saraswati, the daughter of K. Pattabhi Jois founder of modern day Ashtanga Yoga. A truly profound beginning to my Year of Awe. I could be doing Sun A sand Bs for two weeks strait, or I could do a little more. Who really knows...yet I hope that the next two weeks will bring a "feeling of reverential respect mixed with fear and wonder," which is bound to be entertaining in one way or another for you and me both ;)

Please, for the love of yoga, do not flush wipes down the toilet

I don't even understand how something like this can happen. It looks like a combination of toilet paper, paper towels, tampons, and body wipes exploded from the drain outside the yoga studio. I don't see any poop. IS THAT POOP?!? No, I think that is dirt. F***, what did I get myself into.

I wouldn't be dealing with exploding tampon drains in my old job at the university's study abroad office. But I asked myself, am I really going to spend the rest of my life behind a desk? I had so much freedom when I was a Peace Corps volunteer in Morocco to create and move, what happened? So with the same "If Not Now, When?" mantra I used when I quit my nice job in DC to join the Peace Corps in Morocco, I quit my nice job at the university's study abroad office to manage the family yoga studio.

So here I am, examining the drain that exploded because of the pressure that was building behind the clog of toilet paper, paper towels, tampons, and wipes. I mean, WHO THE F*** PUTS WIPES DOWN A TOILET!? I WANT TO STRANGLE SOMEONE WITH THOSE F***ING WIPES! No, Lucia. Breath...10 times. You CAN do this. You are a YES. You are in the yoga business, you are not allowed to strangle people with dirty wipes that just exploded from a drain...

Now I have to call some guy named Rick Mick, or Mick Rick, I don't even know anymore, about fixing the studio's exploding drain. Water keeps pouring out and is slowly making its way down the driveway and into the street. That is A LOT of water. I hope to the gods of yoga that there is no poop in there.

The guys from Rick Mick come out and are like "again with this drain?!" Again, this happened before?! Breath Lucia, just breath. I told them I saw some tampons, but I think it's the wipes that got us this time. The two Rick Mick guys look at each other knowingly, "yeah, those wipes will get you every time." I thanked them and offered them coconut water. They politely declined but looked at me like I was crazy. I think I will need to get used to that look at this new job. At least I get to wear yoga clothes every day.

So they fixed the drain and reminded me that people should not be flushing tampons, paper towels, or wipes down the toilet. "I know, we have SIGNS!" I said with great dismay. The Rick Mick guys agreed the yoga studio's signage was adequate, wished me luck, and reiterated that wipes are horrible for the plumbing. "No s**t" I thought.

As they drove away I realized I forgot to ask if they were able to fix the big hole one of the students put in our studio wall the previous night while trying to do a handstand...