Soul transition.

It has been a month since I boarded the flight that brought me back home. I have relished these past four weeks, taking in every familiar sight and sound and taste as if for the first time. Hugging commonplace conveniences like my washing machine. Wandering around for hours at the grocery store. Driving. Running. In my transition, there has been little room for reflection and I imagine it’s similar to the first visit to the lake every summer. You know that water is going to be damn cold so, standing on the edge of the dock you muster up a whole heap of courage, plug your nose and make a dash for the water. You plunge beneath the surface and for a few moments are suspended in a watery dream. It is damn cold. For a moment, there is nothing but pure adrenaline pulsing through your veins. Then you realize you survived the jump, the cold and shock of the first plunge and you smile, knowing the rest of the summer is going to be easy living. And as you resurface, life is a bit different. You have a new confidence. A new outlook. I imagine my transition in this way. The fifteen days I gave myself between making the final call on leaving my apartment in Los Angeles and boarding a flight to New Delhi: that was
me, standing on the edge of the dock as I mustered up a whole heap of courage and made a dash for the water, a whole lot of unknowns. The five months I spent in India, completing my yoga teacher training and life transition as a person: that was the plunge, the watery dream. It was damn cold (and then unbearably hot). For a moment, there was nothing but pure adrenaline pulsing through my veins. I realized I survived the jump, the cold and shock of the first plunge and I smiled, knowing the rest of my life is going to be easy living. The four weeks of chaos that have buffered me from becoming too nostalgic about my experiences in India have been a blessing, from losing my best friend to switching coast lines. And now, it’s the final resurfacing, the breath of fresh air, the knowledge that life is a bit different because now you live with a new confidence, a new perspective. That’s the moment to reflect on, the moment not to be missed among the trinkets and remnants of India.

This is my soul transition.



Again, the universe is SO silly

This morning I was hydrated enough to get my running shoes on and head out with my loyal running partner for a 3 miler. We wove our way through the cows and puddles and dogs and motorcycles until they gave way to our familiar mountain path, the terrain shifting to a tree lined dirt path. Similarly, our the conversation wove its way from saris to boys and finally settled on yoga. But of course, right? After all, yoga is the microcosmic practice of life.

I shared with her my fear and anxiety about the upcoming week, in which I teach my first full two hour yoga class. Just me. And a class of 20 students. That’s my first diversion from the truth. When my teaching slot comes, I will find myself in a room with just me. Teacher/student. No difference. It’s cliché, but it’s true: we are all here to learn. Life. It’s just that we learning through our bodies.

The universe always brings you the guru you need right when you need them. The same applies to when you need honey lemon ginger tea. True story.

Water is lost; vessels constrict

I’m laid out again with another severe headache. I know it’s due to dehydration. It’s been over 100 degrees here every day for the last few weeks and I’ve been yogurting and running every day. I’ve also been fasting and only eating two meals a day. All these factors have contributed to a general shift in my body and today it’s manifesting as a headache. Curious though, as I sit here and sip my electrolyte water from a bendy straw…how do dehydration and headaches relate. Internet!

What’s Happening in the Body When You Have a Dehydration Headache?

It’s not known precisely how dehydration causes headaches. According to some experts, it’s a by-product of the body’s effort to maintain adequate fluid levels. The blood vessels narrow, reducing the brain’s supply of blood and oxygen. According to LeWine, the brain can’t feel pain, so the headache discomfort may result from pain receptors in the lining that surrounds the brain. The loss of electrolytes may also contribute to dehydration headaches.

Must be sweeter to the hippie body.

This all happened in one day











1. Sometimes you wake up and before breakfast, you gotta have a dance party.
2. The color palate for my hippie barn
3. The Kelly and Perry Show
4. Pew Pew!
5. Lunch view/freedom café
6. Write a post about margaritas and coronas and the universe will give you nachos.
7. I’ll take all of them, please.
8. “Of course, I knew it was your shadow the minute I saw it. And I said to myself, “I’ll put it away for him until he comes back. He’s sure to come back”. And you did, didn’t you.”
9. In a side alley, in a tiny shop of mostly shawls…I find this Free People gem. $6.
10. A hippie sunset

Partner Yoga










1. Spiritual gangsters
2. Like little hippie sponges
3. Your butt is like a shelf for my butt
4. Two sides
5. Same coin
6. Lift
7. Flying bow
8. The hippie crashes to the ground, partner narrowly misses certain death
9. A borrowed tantra pose; we all were wanting our men for this pose.
10. Duh.

Creative problem solving

It’s been nice not having everything I want. Initially, it took some time to see it this way but really, not having every option in multiple color choices with the option to upgrade…it’s been a blessing. Today, for example. My hair has been through hell and has the scorch marks to prove it. I’d run my fingers through my hair and I could hear a sound like the rustle of dry leaves. I spent most of the morning trying to communicate the concept of a layered trim to some very sweet Indian women but they were just as scared as I was about actually making any cuts. So as I wandered back to my place, I popped into an Ayurvedic shop to see what they thought might help my dying hair. Coconut oil, they said. 40 INR ($.80) and twenty minutes later I was covered in a delicious layer of pure coconut oil. I smell like a Girl Scout cookie but its working and I didn’t spend $100 on a rehydrating something or other treatment. Eighty cents and twenty minutes.

20130404-201553.jpg coconut cocoon // new rooftop friend

Another example: my windows won’t latch. They’ve either lost their hook or their eye so they flap chaotically in the wind, especially at night. WHAM!!! WHAM!!! My initial solution was to tie my tennis shoes to the handles in an effort to at least create a barrier between wood and glass. It failed. The blanket though: perfect.


Nothing is the space required for something

I’ve had such a beautiful show of support since my post about where to go from here. People have shared their stories of struggling with similar situations and, with a sincere wish for the best, they encourage me to be patient. Thank you to everyone who reached out; I am very grateful.

The last few days have brought a shift from a limited scope of the mind to no scope at all: A situation that I had invested in, mostly with love (the most expensive currency), and on which I had been relying for support was suddenly taken away. My plan of where I was going from here was destroyed, shattered by another individual’s ignorant choices. My choice: leave that situation behind. This meant letting go of the plan I had settled on. I was scared. I found myself in a panic, thinking what have I done in letting this situation go!?? I am left with no plan!

Nothing is the space required for something.

I learned today that in order to have something you have to make space for it to exist. Space is the lack of object: no thing: nothing. By letting go of the plan I had limited myself to, I opened up to infinite possibilities.