I have less than a week left of my yoga training here in Ubud so figured I’d share some of my learnings, random thoughts, and fun memories from my time here thus far….Friday Five style, of course.
When you’re surrounded by 22+ yogis for an entire month, literally living and breathing yoga and eating a vegan and gluten free diet (with the occasional instant coffee), funny things can and will happen.
Jungle Yoga: When you practice in an open air yoga shala adjacent to a bustling jungle every single morning and evening, you often find yourself drifting to the sounds of the jungle. One morning while I was in downward dog for what seemed like an eternity, I started to notice that I was literally surrounded by ants. I was watching them walk around the back of my mat, a few of them dancing between and over my fingers and some of them, obviously the strongest ones, were carrying what looked like white rice on their backs. They reminded me of all the Balinese who ride around on their motorbikes with what seems like 25 gallons of water balancing precariously on either side of their seat. Or like little soldiers, marching around, each one fulfilling their duty and purpose in life. I found myself thinking, damn they’re industrious. Damn, ants are kind of …awesome? All this yoga talk about being rajasic, sattvic or tamasic all week, every week for the last three weeks had me actually feeling like maybe I wanted to be an ant. I felt absolutely captivated by the little soldiers parading around me, living out their productive little lives. I don’t know about you but I’ve never ever before in my life thought I might want to be an ant. Then Bali happened.
Every yogi for him(her)self. Since we’re talking about the open air shala, let’s talk about the fact that it has no walls. Just a few pillars. And after we’ve been practicing for hours, everyone wants to lean their lazy bodies against something…including me. Sitting for hours and hours of lecture on hard surfaces with the help of blankets and bolsters never quite feels like enough. But alas, I’m never fast enough or thinking clearly enough to set myself up strategically near a pillar so that I’m guaranteed a pillar for lecture. On my birthday, I basically charged into the shala for morning practice, set my stuff against a pillar and claimed my damn spot. And that was that. My one and only lean against a pillar all day experience. And to be honest, it wasn’t as good as it seemed like it would be. Because….the ants.
And speaking of every yogi for himself, we only have one teeny tiny french press at the retreat center. And when it comes to this one and only teeny tiny french press, I’ve learned you have to guard your coffee with your life. Almost every single day, I end up drinking the instant coffee because the french press is always occupied. And my rule is that if its in use and I didn’t make it, then it’s not my coffee to drink. On my birthday, along with the pillar victory, I also managed to get to the french press first. I was so pumped. I made my coffee, walked away and then looked over and saw another yogi about to pour MY COFFEE into her cup. I practically jumped out of my seat, ran over and motioned to her that it wasn’t yet ready (since it was silent breakfast and all). I grabbed the press and guarded it with my life until I had my cup of joe. And then left the rest for the coffee scavengers.
I’m like really into pink. During lecture, we were talking about visualizations in meditation practices. And for some reason the teacher turned to me and asked me what my favorite color was. My favorite color? Uh, pink. I could hear the room of spirit junkies, heart hugging, chakra loving yoga teachers gasping. I could feel them all silently judging my pink love. I could feel them all wondering why I wouldn’t say something more spiritual sounding like forest mist or purple haze. Basic bitch said she likes pink. And she wears these crazy looking hot pink headphones when she…[gasp…] RUNS….
Clearly, I’m projecting. Nobody cares about my love for pink. 🙂
Addicted to my dog. Almost every single day since I’ve been here, I’ve found myself scrolling through photos of Abbie. I think about what she’s doing. Whether she’s been a good girl at the park. And whether she misses me. And then I find myself sharing those photos with anyone who is near, whether they care to see or not. And in lecture, we were chatting about addiction and again I blurted out something along the lines of my favorite color is PINK in a yoga teacher training and that was …I’m addicted to my dog. I want to squeeze her for 24 hours. HAHA!
Ding dong. I’ve learned that ding dong doesn’t necessarily mean the witch is dead; it actually means someone is doing something right. Like someone is hot. Or rockin’ their booty shorts like Beyonce. The girls here use it to compliment husbands, boyfriends, outfits and sometimes even yoga poses. I like it even more when it’s a ding dong in an english accent. The other day, I got one of my first ding dongs – and all I had to do was dive into the pool after a hot, sweaty afternoon run in my super cute hot pink Jolyn bikini. I was really rockin’ that pink. Pink running shorts. My pink Aftershokz. Pink bikini. DING DONG for pink.
All that yoga in an outdoor shala adjacent to a bustling jungle, learning yoga philosophy, eating vegan and gluten free everything for 30 days….and funny things happen. Funny thoughts happen. Funny everything happens. I’m telling you. It’s a real thing.
Stay sweaty friends!