- Sort out my Australian driver's license now that I'm officially a resident
- Plan a couple of new yoga classes for Friday
- Fix my broken vacuum cleaner or take back to shop
- Book some flights to Germany from London in August
- Sell my (aherm) second wedding dress on Ebay (I was married in April 2009)
- Research the blogging market, and find out how to be a better blogger
- Read Donna Fahri's classic, Yoga Body Mind and Spirit
Monday, June 28, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
- Ignorance (avidya): My attitude towards our scuttley friends is based on my samskara (or habitual pattern of behaviour/thinking) which says ‘cockroaches are evil’. This is irrational and is therefore a misconception of the truth. If we remember Kino’s words from my post earlier this week, the goal of yoga is to free ourselves from these patterns of behaviour.
- The ego (asmita) causes us to feel separate from others and most commonly results in negative patterns of behaviour such as the need to be better than so and so. Now I’m certainly not trying to be better than that so and so Mr Cockroach but I do feel separate from him, I just don’t understand him. Maybe some compassion is required here, he’s just doing his thing breeding and trying to make ends meet like we all are.
- Attachment (raga) and rejections (dvesa) I’ve rolled these together because they’re related. Attachments are like the extra cup of coffee/glass of wine you don’t need but that mechanical attachment causes us to really want it. Rejections or ‘dvesas’ are the opposite and here’s where Mr C comes in. When we have a difficult experience or find something unfamiliar we tend to reject it, assuming (incorrectly) that it will always cause pain.
- Fear (abhinivesa). Mr C is causing me to suffer from an irrational fear. When has a cockroach ever hurt me? In fact there are plenty of substances/activities/relationships which I’ve indulged in time and time again which have caused me far more pain in the past.
Monday, June 21, 2010
So through watching our reaction to the gross, physical stuff, for instance diliking a particular posture, we start to access the subtle levels of mind and soul asking ourself: why do I hate this posture? What does that say about me? Likewise it figures that doing a yoga practice helps prepare us for the nonsense which life throws at you, life’s conundrums, and the slippery mountains which seem impossible to climb. So, we struggle and battle with a particular posture (for me it was lotus, then supta kurmasana and now bhujapidasana - okay you don’t need to know what these are but...) the point is, I told myself, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to do these impossible crazy bendy asanas. I know. There’s a girl. Could do with a bit more Anthony Robbins don’t you think? But it just seemed bloody impossible. Then, after a few more weeks/months of practice something opened up and I made progress in these postures, then hey presto, test tube experiment successful. I can get there. So ultimately the impossible became possible.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
I love the fact that us Australians (I became a permanent resident last week so feeling very Australian lately) celebrate the birthday of our lady, the Queen of England. Back in Blighty we don't even know when her birthday is, let alone give the entire country a day off, so if ever there's a reason to be a royalist, here it is!
So, hubby and I decided to cut loose from the big smoke that is Manly and head on up north to another idyllic Aussie beach - Seal Rocks. Ahh tis the life Australia. Being a long weekend and all (not that that means much to me these days - hooray!) it was the perfect chance err... do nothing. That's right. You have to travel for 4 hours in a car to do nothing these days.
And that's just what we did.
Well if you consider two closely fought games of Scrabble (1 draw, one win to me!) a stroll up to the lighthouse, feeding the retreat's horses Mono and Gauntlet, befriending the kookaburras and eating too much cheese and home cooked curry - thank the lordy for Madhur Jaffrey, you can't go wrong.
The weekend was perfect. As we crunched along the gravel roads to our hideaway, the evening sun casting golden spears through the trees, I felt one of those rushy, tingly there's-nowhere-I'd-rather-be moments. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remember how lucky I am to live in this beautiful, glorious, country.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
I love Friday mornings. I don’t teach or practice until the afternoon so it’s the only day of the week when the alarm goes off at what my former self would’ve called a ‘normal time’. Ahhhhhh, stretchhhhh, mmmmmmmm… 7am. Love it. Being your typical 50s housewife these days (minus the valium) I get up, put the kettle on and start stirring up a big pot of porridge for hubby and I. It’s honestly one of my weekly highlights and I say that without a hint of irony. Until now, I’d never really taken to porridge; this fabled cholesterol lowering, low GI, stomach warming, oaty super food. Sticky, cementy, tasteless, Dickensian goo. But, after eating it most mornings in India, as the only viable alternative to curry (I love curry but there’s only so many cumin-based meals I can take in a day), I can whole(grain)heartedly attest to its powers. On the digestive front it’s my super hero – I mean have you seen how much muscle power those oats have, bubbling forth in the pan? Whatever they’re doing in there, I promise they’re working even harder down there… aherm.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
I can’t write today without mentioning that it was the Manly Food & Wine festival at the weekend. Of course it's one of my annual highlights, but happily this year sustainability was integrated into the event, so folks were encouraged to cycle there, and biodegradable cutlery was provided along with numerous organic, eco and sustainability stands (the chickens were another highlight!). But I’m feeling guilty today. Guilty about the amount of wine I drank on Saturday. Guilty because I always talk about making changes and for some reason I can’t seem to bloody well do it.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
These last few weeks I've become an emotional chameleon. It’s not my skin that camouflages with the environment, (although, sadly, my Indian tan has shed, in favour of winter lizard scales...) It’s my soul. My mood, my mind, which is currently spotted with damp puddles, unsettled by a howly wind and beaten by lashing rainstorms. Sydney weather eh. I know it’s typically English to whinge about the weather but permit me just two minutes to be a real Pom. What kind of crap weather is that outside, Manly! You’re a dreary soggy shambles and you’ve sucked the light right out of me. Okay.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
See, there you are, let's wipe that blue pen off your cheek and I'll put you in a pretty lilac dress and.. ooh those matching purple earrings.. you're looking so cute!
Well, at least a little more presentable. Geeee......
Yes, I've got blog envy. So many pretty looking blogs out there and my blog reminds me of me as a kid. Not that my mum didn't dress me properly, she did her best but I was a strong-willed child. I refused to wear a dress/skirt until the age of 13. I remember my parents' triumph when they packed me off to a friend's seventh birthday party in a kilt, obviously under the pretence that a kilt is definitely NOT a skirt.
It's tough you know, sometimes you want things to go a certain way, to look a certain way, to be a certain way and, like trying to teach a kitten the clarinet, the kitty cat won't play.