Bali in 29

Style: Hot
Teacher: Ichih Wang
Studio: Santosha Westboro

Back on the road again. After one day of rest I've reverted into the do-or-die challenge mentality and to get started on the good foot I decided to try a new studio. While I've been to the Santosha on Elgin a few times during the ninety, today I headed into Westboro to experience the original location. Underestimating the power of rush hour, I pull into a parking space minutes before the class is scheduled to start. Glancing down at a torn scrap of paper in my hand with directions and an address, I try my best to decipher my illegible scrawl as I run down the street like a maniac. Dashing up the stairs as fast as I can I scramble frantically to the front desk, trying to catch my breath. Class has just started but I'm welcome to sneak in. Entering the sweltering heat and tiptoeing over a few yogis I eventually find myself a piece of floor and unroll my mat. The next hour and a half drifts away in a sweaty, blissful blur and before I know it I'm back outside in the warm evening air.

Getting home and setting up shop in front of my laptop, I'm sitting in its silent glow, waiting. As I prepare to throw an assortment of thoughts into the digital sea of information, I'm suddenly visited by a most unexpected stranger. Though my front door is locked, it passes through and moves in closer, descending down around me, draping itself over my shoulders. It's an old friend of mine, known as Doubt. As soon as I become aware of its presence I can feel my whole disposition being altered. The calm post-yoga bliss has soon evaporated and the void left behind is slowly being filled by the side-effects of my acquaintance. First it surrounds me, then it slowly starts to suffocate. I'm antsy, I'm fidgeting, I can't sit still or concentrate. I have no idea where this came from. Something feels different about today. After rounding the bend, completing the ninety-day challenge, I feel like I'm on the home stretch. The thing is, I'm not feeling any sort of relief. On the contrary actually. These next 28 days are unbelievably intimidating. It seems to be an immovable object and the voices in my head are cursing and berating my decision to continue. I feel like I can't do it anymore.

Unable to withstand it any longer, I close my computer and make my way upstairs. Looking at myself in the mirror, I can only shake my head, disbelieving the self-constructed predicament I'm in. It was over. Why couldn't I have left it alone? As I turn on the water for a shower my mind is still tossing and turning, twisting itself into knots. It's an unsettling, claustrophobic sensation and I feel like I would do anything to be left alone. I close my eyes and try to taper off the steady flow of uninvited thoughts, but it's no use. Nothing's working. What is wrong with me? As I step through the steam into the hot, cascading water, the stress slowly starts to release its grip. I try to hold my consciousness in limbo, keeping my thoughts as motionless as possible. Soon I'm wrapped in a consoling towel, drying my hair and trying to forget the sense of impending doom that I can't seem to shake.

It all comes down to one thing. Trust. It's hard to live with uncertainty, to survive in the uncharted and unexplored. Nothing is ever guaranteed. I don't know where these last thirty days are leading and I don't know what's waiting for me in Bali. To tell you the truth, I don't even know what to do with my life. I cant help but feel lost. Moving blindly into the unknown is terrifying. It's all about trust. Somehow deep down I understand that I just need to let go. I need to trust that when I take the next step, the ground will be there to support me. Life unfolds in the most fascinating but mysterious ways and it tends to be completely unpredictable. My mind wants everything to be laid out in an understandable order. It wants a succinct blueprint, a precise diagram. It wants a road-map with all exits clearly marked, a step-by-step itinerary that I can follow logically to get from point A to B to C. Life doesn't seem to function like that. It seems to be a headfirst plunge into potentiality. Nothing is definite and anything can happen. I just need to hold on to some trust, some faith in the outcome. It's all going to work out, I just need to know that. Tonight that knowing is easier said than done.


Shawna Almeida said...


Thank you for writing with such honesty and humility. It gives me comfort to know that I'm not the only one struggling with the dualism that comes with opportunity.
Personal growth is a pretty intense thing and can knock you off your spiritual feet. To counter this I suggest the following: remember your commitment to meditation and consider the following mantra, "Om Namah Shivaya". While there is no true translation of this mantra, the commonly understood meaning is "I honour that which I am capable of becoming".
Whatever you come to be, you'll still be you.

Hope to see you Wed

Post a Comment