the South is alive

Grasshopper on Kristi and Bill’s back porch.

Creek outside of Barton Springs – Austin, TX

Grandma’s house – Shreveport, LA

Tree lined avenue – Shreveport, LA

’55 Chevy on family property – Killian, LA

Old Oak on family property – Killian, LA

Dad going nuts about something.

Me making use of a nice kitchen.

Mickey and Squirt on the river.

The Sqirt Perch.

Rain.

Backyard view of Blood River on a quiet morning. – Springfield, LA

Green.

Blood River – Louisiana

The Old Oak.

Gentle rolling hills and serene gulf estuaries of Ocean Springs, Mississippi. The psychedelic furls of salty shrimp infested waters intertwined with blonde patches of marsh-grass glowing golden in the morning sun. The lushness of lower Louisiana wetlands. Bright white Egrets juxtaposed against a forest of trees half-covered in lake. Innocent beds of lily pads hide lurking gators. The summer is soaked down here.

Spanish moss and baby ferns ornament age old Live Oaks, while Pecan trees line the sun-soaked avenues as if to keep tradition of a small Southern town intact. Pecans from grandma’s front yard, fried food, sweet iced tea and watermelon dripping from my chin.

Jazz and Blues, Country and Dirty South rap. All the young’ins know the words: “I like my beats down low. And my top laid back.”

My, oh my. I think The South is alive.

reminders of the infinite stream

Sometimes it feels like the divine flow of life spit me out onto its bank and meandered somewhere out of my immediate sight. But I am in fact always in the stream of life, no matter the speed or pressure or conspicuousness.

Not all is gained from nothing. We must give up something to get anything. This is the Law of Nature. Surrender that which is most precious to you – perhaps your ego, your heart, an attachment – and see what happens. The most rewarding bounties come out of these actions.

A friend and yoga teacher, Yogishi, said to me the other day, “The only thing I want in life is to be happy and to live to my highest potential.”

I too have shared this same sentiment along this trip and given up all ambition to see the path Spirit laid forth. This path is always there, but not always apparent. This is the highest truth: The Law of Nature. Every other ambition involves some impermanence that will eventually prove hollow. When we open ourselves to the universe, she opens herself up to us.

I’ve barely begun to break ground on this notion of total surrender. The daily grind, excitements and disappointments are incredibly easy to slip back into. Sometimes running around in circles with a blindfold on our face pushing an empty wheel-barrow is just what we need to realize how goddamn silly we are.

But if we consistently ask ourselves what actions we could take to benefit our highest potential we might find more purpose and fulfillment in our daily lives, no matter what the outcome is. Acting solely for the purpose of our highest good can only benefit us as a result and the world at large. We turn the focus back inwards for the answers and our actions are no longer goal-oriented. Our minds and hearts automatically open to Possibility and we become aware of the infinite flow of life streaming through each and every one of us. There are no wrong answers here. There is no second place. This is the Law of Nature.

I’ve given up my plans for India to return to Thailand. Nepal has felt vacuous at times, and I yearned for the depth and magic I felt in Koh Phangan, yet my meditation practice is deeper than it’s ever been and I am clearer and more solid than I was when I left Thailand.

The valuable lessons I learned in Nepal and a bit of India were set a midst rugged mountains, simple village life and easy-going Nepali people who housed and fed me. I’ve tasted Tibetan Buddhism, a mind-blowingly complex religion. Kathmandu is what I imagine the end of the Earth and a fiery hell to be, yet the people all over the country are so gentle and kind. Many know at least a little English and extend themselves to talk and share with foreigners – a welcomed change from Thai people. I give my deepest gratitude to Nepal and hope to one day be back for some incredible mountain treks.

I realize I am just a tadpole in this infinite stream. Life isn’t just about gaining. What can I give up today?

hippy style in pokhara, nepal

View of Phewa lake in Pokhara, Nepal.

Jacque giving me rowing lessons.

Arita grinding ginger for dinner with stone and slab.

Jerome and Max, my Capoeira training partners.

Eating delicious dahl bat (typical Nepali food) with Bikas and Yogishi for lunch.

Massive spider that later flew across my room into my bag after the friendly Russian neighbor offered to “help” exterminate it.

Sathya Sai Baba, deceased Indian guru. You know what they say about the size of a man’s Tilak.

Yogishi and his clean kitchen.

Don’t mind them….

Yogishi’s studio, Purna Yoga in Pokhara and some sort of ghostly orb in the foreground.

Mia and I enjoying chocolate ice cream coffee shakes, beer and cigarettes on the second day after our Vipassana retreat, undoubtedly created new samkaras for ourselves to eradicate.

Munchkins learning English.

Humble Yogishi drinks tea at his dining table overlooking Phewa Lake.

Munchkin taming the beast.

I’m not a very good trip planner. I like to get a good feel for a place, make friends, engage in the community and then see what spectacular happenstance activities manifest. This kind of travel can both reap great rewards and leave one sitting around seemingly wasting time.

This happened to me here in Nepal. A spontaneous seven-day trekking adventure led to three days at a Tibetan Buddhist monastery and preceded 11 days of actual monastic living at a silent Vipassana meditation course. Twenty days of planned activities and 15 days of……..? But who’s counting?

I currently find myself in Pokhara, Nepal, a big town that feels like small one, situated on a lake near one of the biggest trekking destinations in the world: The Annapurna Circuit. Pokhara is beautiful, but right now gives the impression of an Old Western boom town.

Rain muddies the dirt roads, but the grains are so fine that within hours of drying dust clouds permeate the trafficked streets and coat the cafe tables. Most of the trekkers have come and gone. The heavy heat and rainy season has already begun. Worldy hippies and transient festival-goers sparingly sprinkle the streets to hang around, smoke weed and stay doing absolutely nothing for as little money and as long as possible. They all seem to be going to India eventually.

So, what to do? I meditate. I walk. I admire the water-buffalo in the lake and then go swim with them. Make some friends. Row a boat to the other side of the lake. Meet some Capoeiristas and train in the evenings. Meet a local yoga teacher and cut my teeth teaching Vinyasa once a day. I buy some eggs, some fresh green beans, yogurt and fruit. I eat cheaply for a few days. And then I make a decision on where to go next because my visa says I have to.

Nepal is nothing what I thought it’d be. Then again, I never planned to be here in the first place.

friendship and letting go of preservation

If relationships are meant to help us see ourselves more clearly, then it’s important to look at the moments when friction takes place as well as the flowy, fun, heartfelt, connected, inspiring ones. Same as in life. We take the bad with the good. Both are equally important in recognizing where we block the flow of energy in ourselves – eventually growing, maturing and expanding as human beings – and recognizing our true nature.
No big deal, right?

Sure, I’ve been on this exploratory personal journey. Ups and downs abound. I feel the rush and flow of the universe pushing me high and pulling me low and go with it. I deal. I balance. I reflect. But all of this is through my own filter and on my own terms.

I’m often spending time with fellow travelers, but never all the time or for more than a few days at a time. We’re all on our own journeys and come and go as we please. Leave it up to an old friend visiting me here to throw me off my game.

It’s easier for me to fully express my disagreements with someone I’ll never see again. It’s utterly inconsequential. But in a long-term relationship and counter to what one might think, sometimes it’s difficult to say exactly how I feel at all times, whether it’s for political reasons or for want of preserving the state of the relationship.

For me, this is a major lesson I’m still learning about.

I can shoot love beams from my chest and prana out of my ass on a tropical island filled with consciousness expanding activities and love mongering hippies, but as soon as I step out of that environment and am faced with disconcert with a good friend, suddenly my flaws are shoved in my face and I get to learn. Thanks, Lindsay!

It’s interesting when this dynamic happens with friends because friendships are supposed to be peachy all the time, but the reality is they’re not. And these, like any other relationship, give us an opportunity to look at and better ourselves, even if it’s just to recognize a fault.

It’s too easy to say, “I’m better off on my own;” “She’s the cause of my dismay;” “How can i change her,” etc. But then, we’re stuck in our own patterns and karmic wheels. Our problems never get solved and our relationships never grow.

I take a passage from an article on Mind Body Green:

“Remember, we all move to practice, but we need to work to expand. We can first start by being completely open to receive something new to challenge that which is old. It can be a healing, an idea, or a difficult pose. This is not a bullshit new age sentiment; You have to want it and bring awareness to it.”

– Dr. Emill Kim in What a Backbend Can Reveal About Your Life –

So, I get to see I have trouble expressing my new ideas about the world in established relationships. I think they won’t understand. I’m afraid of being different and losing their faith. Breaking out of old thought patterns is easy when I’m with brand new people in a brand new place. But this proves a bit harder to stay with when I’m faced with someone who expects me to be a certain way. Imagine these challenges when I’m back in the U.S.!

I get to see I can let people in fully but only for small amounts of time, and then I start to feel burdened. I still don’t know how to let all this Life in AND manage a close relationship at the same time. Unwilling to let the negative feelings go, my ego strives to figure out how to change this thing or person. But of course, it’s impossible to change anything outside of ourselves.

These are old patterns.

Energy’s innate nature is transient. Trying to figure out the blockage only exacerbates the stagnation.

It’s these moments when we have choice to stay in our bodies with the feeling. If it doesn’t move, take the risk and communicate. Often times the singular act of expression without blame helps to unblock the path or create new ways for the energy to move.

All we are are conduits for energy. Look at the discourse in our relationships as reflections of ourselves and opportunities to grow. Take risks with our loved ones and don’t hold back.