Teaching Yoga and Meditation to Children in Orphanages with Jen Posner

Heart Aches and Opens in Cambodia

Out of all of the countries that I have visited, I felt the most unsettled about traveling to Cambodia. The little I knew about its history was heartbreaking and I was concerned that the reality of what happened there not too long ago might be too much for me to bear emotionally. Yet, despite my fears, I booked a ticket to Siem Reap from Laos.

My friends had left Luang Prabang in Laos a few days earlier than I to go tube rafting and partying down a river in Vang Vieng so I had to make the journey down to Cambodia on my own. As I sat in the airport in anticipation for my flight, I felt butterflies fluttering around my belly unlike anything I had experienced during my travels thus far. I was nervous. I sat and read about the country’s saga in one of my guide books and then it occurred to me why I felt the way I did; because the atrocities that took place there were so recent. The war and genocide only ended in 1979 and the country has never really recovered. The reality of that was very unsettling.

When we arrived in Siem Reap, after a very turbulent flight, I was very surprised by the very clean and modern airport. Immigration was very professional and collecting my backpack was a breeze. I almost forgot where I was for a minute and thought that perhaps my experience there wouldn’t be so bad after all.

I had pre booked myself into a guest house and had made arrangements for someone to come pick me up at the terminal with a tuk tuk. As I exited the airport, I was greeted with a huge smile by Tanvent, a young handsome Cambodian who I immediately liked. As we drove from the airport to Rosy Guest House, I was surprised by how quiet and tame Siem Reap seemed. This wasn’t the way I had imagined it. I learned later that local law enforcement implement strict protocol about beggars and homeless people in the city. Most are either forced off of the streets or put in jail. This is all done for the benefit of tourists and the idea made me uncomfortable.

After quickly checking in, I asked Tanvent to drive me to Angkor Wat for sunset. When I arrived at the gates of the temple, I was stunned by the number of tourists waiting on line to purchase tickets.I felt like I had arrived in “Spiritual Disneyland”. I raced up a mountain accompanied by hundreds of other visitors to ancient ruins. Despite the number of people, I felt instantly connected to my surroundings and was overwhelmed by the beauty of the sun setting over this new land that I found myself in.

The following morning I awoke at 4:30 am and made my way back to Angkor Wat to witness the sunrise there. I found a quiet spot away from the crowds, positioned myself in Lotus position and began to meditate. Walking through the temple was mesmerizing. The detailing and craftsmanship in the stone quite literally took my breath away.

The distance between each temple is quite vast, so Tanvent drove me from each holy site. Bayon temple brought me to tears. The Bayon's most distinctive feature is the multitude of serene and massive stone faces on the many towers which jut out from the upper levels and cluster around its central peak. The effect is spectacular.

After sunrise, I invited Tanvent to join me for coffee and he began to tell me a little bit about himself. He grew up in Pnom Pen but moved to Siem Reap to go to college. He is studying business and accounting yet would prefer to go to acting school but tuition is too high ($700 per year) so he has compromised his dream in order to earn enough to support his family. He misses his parents desperately, says not being near them “hurts his heart”, and finds himself feeling lonely most nights. He is kind, smart and speaks very good English. His grandparents were killed by the Kmer Rouge and his family live with the devastation of their deaths every single day.

As we sat there, a group of children came over wanting to sell me some souvenirs and knick knacks. I began to teach them English instead. As the crowd of kids grew around us, I was reminded once again why I love children: their hearts and minds are open to everything. They do not judge, they just absorb, appreciate and are totally present. Being around them is a gift.

I had met a young artist inside one of the temples who was selling paintings created by children at an orphanage nearby. The sale of the artwork helps fund the children’s education, food, clothing and accommodation. I inquired about volunteer needs, jotted down the address and made my way over there.

As Tanvent and I walked into ODA orphanage I was struck by the gorgeous artwork that the children have created; large, bright and vibrant detailed canvases depicting local cultural scenery set up in a makeshift bamboo gallery. As I turned the corner, I was warmly and loudly greeted by a large group of smiling children. A couple of the boys grabbed my hands and began to tour me around their home which is comprised of 2 rooms (12 girls sleep in one, 11 boys in the other), 1 very small outdoor kitchen with a medium sized dining table and an outdoor art “studio” where the children sit and pour out a flurry of paintings and drawings.

I sat and spoke with the owner of the orphanage who explained that he became an orphan when his parents were killed by the Kmer Rouge in 1977. He is a trained artist and although he does not make much money, he felt responsible for other orphans and built the facility with what little he had. He says that he struggles to keep the residence going every day but that he could not live with himself if he didn’t continue to take care of these children. I am consistently astounded by some people's bravery and inspired by their sheer will to do good for the sake of love.

After sitting and painting with the children for awhile, I offered to teach an impromptu yoga class which they happily joined in for. Despite the language barrier, all the kids joyfully made their way into various postures giggling and breathing deep. My heart flooded with gratitude for the gift of my yoga practice once more and the ability to share it.  I returned to ODA for the next couple of days and tried to stay focus on what I was able to offer as opposed to the yearning in my heart to do more.

My friends and I reluctantly decided to take a bus down to Pnom Pehn where the Kmer Rouge evacuations initially took place.  Although we knew that our visit there would be hard, I never imagined just how challenging it would be. Unlike Siem Reap, the energy of Cambodia's capital is deeply unsettling and chaotic. Cars, tuk tuks and motorbikes flood the streets and sidewalks are riddled with beggars and victims of landmines.

After getting conned into staying in a deplorable guest house that stunk of fish and stale cigarettes, we got ourselves together in search of a restaurant for dinner.  As we walked the streets in silence and shock, an old woman on crutches, who was missing a leg, followed us begging for change. I felt emotionally drained and physically exhausted after the long bus ride and ended up tripping off the sidewalk and falling onto the street. I twisted my ankle and screamed out in pain. Fear gripped me with the thought that I might have broken something. All of sudden, I was surrounded by a mob of people offering to help. I was sat down on a chair and the same woman who had been tailing us got down on the ground, began to massage my foot with tiger balm and, as if by magic, the pain subsided .  As she smiled a toothless smile up at me, tears began to pour down my face.  How can someone who has nothing be so full of love and compassion for a complete stranger?  My friends offered her some change in thanks for looking after me which she declined.

When we finally made it to a restaurant, we all sat down in astonishment at the evening's events. We knew the following day would be hard as well since we had made the unanimous decision to visit the Killing Fields and Kmer Rouge torture prison.

The Killing Fields were a number of sites in Cambodia where large numbers of people were killed and buried by the Khmer Rouge regime, during its rule of the country from 1975 to 1979, immediately after the end of the Vietnam War. At least 200,000 people were executed by the Khmer Rouge (while estimates of the total number of deaths resulting from Khmer Rouge policies, including disease and starvation, range from 1.4 to 2.2 million out of a population of around 7 million).

Walking the grounds of the Killing Fields in Pnom Penh is heartbreaking to say the least. Knowing how many innocent people, including women and children, were killed and tortured there is beyond upsetting. After visiting the torture prison and looking at hundreds of photos of the victims, my friends and I decided that we had had enough and that it would be a good idea to travel to Vietnam sooner than anticipated.

The next morning, we packed up our backpacks and hailed a cab to the bus station. As we stopped at a red light, I caught eyes with the same homeless woman/ angel who had taken such selfless care of my foot. I jumped out of the car, gave her a hug, and handed her some money. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes, brought her hands in prayer position at her heart, I did the same, and we respectfully bowed to one another.

As our bus, headed to Vietnam, pulled out of the station, I said a silent prayer of gratitude to a country that I have so much love and compassion for. Despite the pain that I felt in my heart while traveling there, I will be forever thankful for the insight and inspiration that it has gifted me. I am amazed at how warm, loving and open the people of Cambodia are in spite of the terror that they have endured. They are a huge testament to the expansiveness of the human heart. My life has been forever changed by the experience of traveling there.

Sending you love and light.
xoxo

Loving Laos

Despite the fact that Mary, Clare, Jamie and Anne are on a tighter time schedule than I, we made the group decision to journey to Laos via a slow boat ride up the Mekong River that would take us 2 days. We were told that this was an ideal way to arrive in Laos and we were all excited about the experience. The loading for the boat takes place in Chiang Kong which took 7 hours to get to by bus from Chiang Mai. We made the arrangements for our Laos visas upon arrival at our guest house and were notified about our early departure for the next day.

Crossing the border from Thailand to Laos via boat was a funny and chaotic event. After being literally squeezed unto an unstable wood boat across the Mekong with our enormous backpacks in tow then herded to a disorganized “immigration” desk, we suddenly found ourselves in Laos. The trip from Thailand to Laos took all of 10 minutes. It felt strange to suddenly be in a new country because nothing seemed different besides the change in currency.

The first day’s boat ride wasn’t easy; the ferry was overfilled beyond capacity so some passengers, including Mary and Clare, had the misfortune of being placed on the dirty wood floor which wasn’t much better than the hard wood benches that the rest of us were sitting on. I did my best to distract myself by reading, writing and making small talk with the other passengers. Mostly I spent my time taking in the peaceful views along the river which is riddled with smiling fisherman, gorgeous untouched rainforests and tiny miscellaneous villages. I began to contemplate life back home and thought about how hectic living in cities tends to be and how much I long to live somewhere with wide open space.

When we arrived in the miniscule town of Pak Beng for our overnight stay we scurried our way up a vertical sand dune followed by an even steeper hike up to our guest house. Even after having been warned about the possibility of being offered drugs in the area, I was still shocked when I was solicited by the owner of the guest house upon walking into my room and even more shocked when we were again approached at the restaurant that we ate dinner in. The corruption and illegal activity that takes place in this part of the world never ceases to amaze me.

The next day’s boat ride was much more comfortable. I spent the majority of the trip at the front of the boat with two very sweet girls from the Netherlands and an interesting couple from France who had been traveling for the same amount of time as I. We all shared stories about our individual adventures traveling throughout the world. I was reminded yet again at how fortunate I am to be on this random journey and for my current freedom.

Upon approaching the town of Luang Prabang, the sun began to set and I guided my new friends through a chant of the Gayatri Mantra. As we pulled into the harbor, we looked at each other with internal knowing that we had arrived in a very special place and smiled. I decided then that it was time for me to get back to some volunteer work which, despite the wonderful time I had had in Thailand, my soul was craving.

When we arrived in town, the first thing I did was ask locals if they knew of an orphanage in the area. An owner of a restaurant informed me of an Australian ex patriot named Ruth who had been living in Laos for 10 years. She owns a used book store and restaurant and contributes 20% of her earnings to an orphanage just outside of town.

The next afternoon, after visiting some of Laos’ extraordinary temples, I set out on my own to find Ruth. When I arrived at her bookstore, I was a bit taken aback to meet a slightly grouchy older woman who didn’t seem the least bit enthusiastic about my wanting to come and volunteer my time. She informed me that there are 580 children living at the orphanage and unless I was able to purchase enough food, clothing or supplies for all of the children that my time would be useless. I offered to teach the children yoga, which she found ridiculous, or to teach them English to which she informed me that the people who run the facility would be frustrated with unless I could speak Laos to translate. Although I felt exasperated, I wasn’t about to give up. My intention was to do some good while I was in there and I wasn’t going to quit that easily. Seeing that I wasn’t going anywhere, she gave me the name of an organization called My Library, told me how to get there and off I went.

Walking through the back alleys of this beautiful little town is sure to inspire even the coldest of hearts; run down French colonial buildings and homes, gorgeous tropical trees and flowers, awesome temples with Buddha statues that literally take your breath away, beautiful children running and playing in the streets, monks dressed in orange robes mindfully carrying umbrellas and peacefully walking, all overlooking the Mekong River with wooden boats carrying fisherman over her body. Luang Prabang is dazzling.

When I arrived at the My Library building I immediately knew that I was in the right place. After an enthusiastic welcome from some of the students on the first level, I was introduced to an American woman named Carol who founded the organization about 6 years ago when she became aware of the lack of access to books and computers that Laos children had in the area due to financial restrictions. Now, children and young adults are given the opportunity to learn how to read and write in English, how to use the internet and those who are interested can learn about photography. A gallery of photographs taken by some of the kids graces the walls of the small library. Seeing the world through the eyes of a child is such a gift so for them to be able to transmit that through the lens of a camera is simply astounding.

I sat down with a couple of boys initially and the questions began to unfurl on both ends. They began by asking me the obvious about where I am from, what I do, do I like Laos followed by basic grammar questions. I learned about their lives growing up in Laos. They ride their bikes anywhere from a 1/ 2 hour to 3 hours per day to come to town to work and to the Library to learn. They are eager, curious and incredibly gratefully for the opportunity. As our conversation continued, more children joined in and I began to fall in love with the Laos people, their culture, their beliefs and their hearts. Most of them follow the Mhong belief system; which basically means that they believe that multiple spirits inhabit each of our bodies. When someone gets sick, a local shaman is called to clear the negative spirits out. I learned that these “children” were our waiters, the ones who run all of the local guest houses and hotels and shopkeepers. Not a single one of them had ever left Luang Prabang but they are all eager to get out into the world.

While conversing with, laughing and learning with them, I realized once again why volunteer work is so important for me. Beyond the fact that it feels wonderful to be able to share my time with people who are so grateful for what little time I have to give, it reminds me of just how fortunate I am. I have learned so much from the incredible people I have spent time with over the past 8 months. I will be thankful to all of them for inviting me into their lives forever.

A few hours later, as I left with a big smile on my face, one of the boys caught up with me on his bicycle to thank me again for taking the time to teach them. I was really impressed with his English and his eagerness to learn. I took him to a local used book shop and bought him a copy of “Lord of the Flies”. At 16, he has never owned or read an English book from beginning to end. It makes me happy knowing that his first book will not only have a tremendous impact on him but will probably be shared with some of his friends as well.

The next morning I woke up at 6 am to join the only yoga class available in the area. On my way back to the guest house, I nearly tripped over a tiny black and white kitten that had found itself in the middle of a bustling street. I scooped it up into my arms and noticed that there was something wrong with its eyes so I bought some milk and a bowl and put the little cat down in a safer location. As I walked away, the kitten followed. Seeing that no one seemed to show it any interest, I decided to bring it back to our guest house to try to find it a home. When I arrived, I showed the owner and asked if she knew if anyone would want a kitten. She suggested that I bring him to the monastery up the street to see if the monks would take him in.

When I arrived there, all I had to do was look into one of the monks’ eyes and he said “would you like for us to care for this kitten?” And that was it. He gently embraced the cat in his arms, as another monk placed the bowl of milk on the ground. The love that these men in orange had in their eyes for this sad little animal made me love and appreciate them and their belief system all the more. If only we all had such unconditional love for all of God’s creatures.

I spent the rest of my week volunteering with the kids at My Library and ended being invited to come teach English in the local college; took a cooking class and learned how to make some delicious Laos cuisine and finished up the week bathing in a gorgeous waterfall and teaching some friends yoga at its base in the pouring rain.

Laos is by far one of my favorite countries that I have visited so far. I cannot recommend traveling there enough. I would have liked to stay longer but was eager to join my friends in Cambodia for the next chapter of this magical adventure that I am on but I will be back and I hope it is sooner rather than later.

Sending love and light from Thailand.

xoxox

Thai Surprise

I didn’t intend on making my way up to South East Asia on this trip. I had been invited to join friends on a trek through Cambodia months ago but didn’t feel ready then and was more curious about Australia and New Zealand at the time. But while in New Zealand, a couple of new friends from Ireland were talking about their plans on heading to Thailand and its neighboring countries. My curiosity was peaked. So after a little research, I booked a flight to Bangkok with a stopover in Singapore to meet up with Mary and Clare.

I arrived in Singapore and checked into a hostel in Little India for a couple of nights which, despite the deplorable condition of our 28 bed dorm, made me feel quite at home because I was surrounded by the Indian culture that I just adore. Singapore was an even bigger turnoff the second time around. The girls and I literally could not wait to get to the airport (which is just about the only reason to stop there).

As soon as we arrived at the Bangkok Airways gate, I cosmically sat down next to a Buddhist monk dressed in a golden robe and a new level of excitement and anticipation leapt into my chest. His kind spirit and compassionate nature confirmed that I had made the right choice yet again and I knew that I was exactly where I belonged. He and I sat and discussed meditation, the importance of living in the moment and the value of being mindful of every infinitesimal act. During that hour, I was reminded of so much that I have learned over the past 8 months and so much that I tend to forget in the twinkling of an eye.

Arriving into Bangkok was nowhere near as hectic as I expected, India has prepared me for the absolute worst of transportation nightmares, so being hassled by cab drivers barely sparks an iota of anxiety anymore (until you feel as though you are being conned or ripped off which can get my nostrils flaring). We arrived at our guest house, The Wild Orchid Villa, at around 1 am, checked out the $3 a night rooms that we had reserved, decided we were not up for the window-less and stifling rooms and upgraded to the $10 a night option instead which felt like an upscale accommodation dream.

The next morning we woke up and began to explore the surrounding area. Bangkok is chaotic, but not unbearable. I actually love the madness of the “tuk tuk” versus motorbike traffic and the swarms of diverse tourists who roam the streets. There is a beautiful medley of eccentric hippies with dreadlocks and tattoos and more “upscale” looking travelers who blend in with the Thai shopkeepers, drug pushers and “lady boys”. Having only a few days there before heading up North, we indulged in some very affordable shopping, delicious food and of course the ever so blissful Thai massage outrageously (but gratefully) priced at $4 for an hour of perfect relaxation. That evening we met up with a British couple, Jamie and Anne, that the girls met while traveling in Australia and whom were planning on passing through the same areas that we were. Suddenly, our little family went from 3 to 5.

The following day, we all made our way back to the airport and boarded a flight up to Chiang Mai in Northern Thailand. After settling into our $3 a night “guest house” with it’s oh so suitable wood like mattresses we made our way over to the infamous night market and were dazzled by the eclectic goods and unique local artwork.

After a fairly uncomfortable night’s sleep, we woke up and began to visit some of the temples that the area is so well known for. I had read about something called “monk chats” at a temple called Wat Suan Dok which was supposed to be particularly beautiful at sunset. When we arrived, we were amazed by the beauty of the temple with its golden façade, gigantic Buddha statues and dozens of monks dressed in their orange robes; some mowing the lawn while others played games with the several stray dogs that have comfortably made the monastery their home.

I inquired about the “monk chats” and we were escorted into a modest room which is set up like a classroom. Clare, Mary and I were sat down at a table on one side. Two monks sat across from us and informed us that we were welcome to ask them absolutely anything about their traditions, Buddhism, the temples, etc. We were assured that no question was too outrageous and that they are open to all inquiries. My mind began to flurry with queries and the questions began to pour out.

I have read quite a bit about Buddhism and although I don’t consider myself religious per sea, I really respect the Buddhist belief system and think there is so much to learn from it. I love the idea that Enlightenment is an inner journey, not something you can search for outwardly. I also strongly agree with the importance of taking responsibility for ones actions. I could have sat and talked with them for hours. Just being in their presence gave me hope and made me appreciate this experience that much more. We left the temple feeling humble and grateful.

The next morning we jumped in a tuk tuk and set out on a two day trek into the jungle, an activity that Chiang Mai is renowned for. Our adventure began with an elephant ride through the forest and into a river; this was followed by a 4 hour uphill hike to a remote village in the mountains, after a quick swim in a gorgeous waterfall. Our guides were a comical duo named Mr. K and Tony who impressively walked in simple flip flops and sang ironic versions of western songs the whole way.

Our campsite in the village consisted of a wood hut with a very long communal dining table, makeshift rooms made of old molded mattresses and mosquito netting and the dingiest bathroom that I have come across to date but the exquisite view of green and yellow tiered pastures made up for our modest surroundings. Mr. K and Tony prepared a delicious meal over a fire pit, whiskey and beer began to flow and the next thing we knew, our group of 15 became a giddy impromptu family. A group of children from the village came down and serenaded us with beautiful local songs and we did our best to sing back to them very ineffectively. My face hurt from smiling so hard. That was the moment that I fell in love with Thailand.

The next day we made the trek down the mountain, passing through more local villages, awed by their humble lifestyle and finished the day by climbing onto rafts made of bamboo poles and floating down a river. When we arrived back in to Chiang Mai, I treated myself to another Thai massage and mentally prepared for the 2 day slow boat ride to Laos that we had scheduled for the following day.

Although Thailand was never a country that I ever really dreamed about traveling to, I am so glad I did. The locals are kind and friendly and exploring their beautiful country is easy and virtually hassle free. The Thai people have taught me to laugh louder, live bigger and to love more. I look forward to returning to the South after Vietnam and cannot wait to go back and really saturate myself in the Thai culture and lifestyle.

Love and Light from South East Asia.
xoxo

Letting The Adventure Spirit Soar in New Zealand

Flying over and into New Zealand is like flying into a nature lover’s dream: snow capped mountains and miles and miles of green foliage embrace the landscape like a magic carpet. My heart leapt in anticipation over what was to come as I landed in Wellington and was welcomed by Marianne, a friend I met at the Yoga Retreat in Bali back in June. As we drove to her beautiful home in Paekakariki, a small village which is located on the West Coast South tip of the North Island, I couldn’t get over the views of turquoise water and lush green hills.

Marianne is a Yoga teacher and human rights activist who recently left her job at Oxfam to focus on writing a book about her experiences in Afghanistan. She very kindly opened her home to me without hesitation despite the fact that we don’t know each other that well and that she is under pressure to finish her book. I had mentioned that I was interested in volunteering with a local conservation group while I was visiting and she put me in touch with Nga Uruora. Nga Uruora - Kapiti Project Charitable Trust is a community based conservation project with a big work program and an even bigger vision. Set up in 1997 to reverse the drastic decline of coastal forest, they are aiming to create a continuous ribbon of bird-safe native forest running from Porirua through to Waikanae.

I was all set to begin planting trees the minute I arrived in Paekakariki and contacted Joe, the head of the organization the following day. I was instructed to meet him and a group of volunteers on the beach the next morning. When I arrived Joe informed me that our goal for the day was to plant 680 trees along the coastline as well as along the highway. Eight other volunteers and I began the task of digging and planting and five hours later we had miraculously achieved our goal and blessed 680 trees with new Earth homes. It always amazes me what a small group of focused and dedicated people can achieve in such a short amount of time.

The following day I began plotting my journey to the South Island, which I was told was an essential trip to make. After doing a little research, I decided to take a Stray bus which is a tour service that gives you the freedom to hop on and off the bus wherever you like, so if I fell in love with an area I would be able to stay there for awhile and then book another bus in my own time.

I spent a few more beautiful days practicing yoga with Marianne and getting myself prepared for the excursion that laid head. I hopped on a train to Wellington and boarded a ferry to Picton in the South Island. I got on the Stray bus upon my arrival and the next thing I knew I was sipping wine at the Hunter Vineyards in the Marlborough Region with new friends.

The Coastal drive to the Abel Tasman National Park is spectacular and reminds me of the Pacific Coast Highway back home. The road is steep and windy in places. The turquoise ocean dances on one side and glorious luscious hills ripe with palm trees, exotic ferns and hundreds and hundreds of sheep and adorable lambs grace the other. As we pulled into The Barn hostel driveway, I smiled with amazement at the beauty I had just witnessed and thought about how fortunate I was to be in New Zealand, a country I never in my wildest dreams imagined ever getting to.

I was put in a room with four girls from Ireland: Niamh (pronounced Nieve), Elaine, Clare and Mary. All of the girls work with children in some capacity so we developed an immediate kinship. The next morning, we set out to explore exquisite Abel Tasman with a beautiful 3 hour hike. Once we reached the ocean shore line, we embarked on a sail boat and drifted in the waters to get an alternate view of the National Park. The boat ride was stunning despite the rain and chilly weather.

The next morning, I taught our group a lovely yoga class on a deck at the base of Abel Tasman at sunrise and mentally prepared myself for the hang gliding that I had signed up for. A few years ago, I had experienced sky diving and loved the sensation of drifting through the sky like a bird. When I arrived at Sky Adventures, I was helped into a suit and placed into the Hang Glide which was attached to the back of a small plane. I thought about how insane what I was about to do was and decided to let fear fall to the wayside. As we drifted up into the air and detached from the plane, my heart sunk into my stomach and then I felt a tremendous amount of exhilaration. How beautiful it was to float above New Zealand, looking down on all the sheep, cows and patches of green landscape.

Upon landing, I boarded a bus once again and made the way to Franz Josef Glacier. The magnificent Franz Josef Glacier is widely regarded as the gem of New Zealand’s West Coast Glaciers. After putting spikes on my boots, and being handed an ice pick I was on my way to hike up the spectacular and most challenging glacier terrain imaginable. The climb took a total of 5-6 hours on the ice. We found ourselves in all manner of situations, from squeezing through tight blue crevasses and sliding through ice caves to “Franz shuffling” down near vertical walls of ice. The experience confirmed my absolute love of adventure and proof that my body and spirit are capable of just about anything I set my mind to. At the end of the day, I happily submerged my weary body in a natural hot spring and contemplated the ongoing bliss that I was experiencing.

The following morning I received an email from my friend Denise who I had travelled with in the Australian Outback. She works for TNT Magazine, a very well known backpacker publication in Australia. She had entered me in a contest, unbeknownst to me, for a free week of skiing and accommodation in Queenstown and I won! The package included free gear, lift tickets and accommodation for me and a friend. I was absolutely thrilled because I was hoping to ski while there but knew I couldn’t justify the expense. This was confirmation once again of the power of the Law of Attraction and the pure generosity of the Universe.

I invited Niamh and Elaine to share the room with me at the Pinewood Lodge and we figured out a way to share in the lift tickets up to Coronet’s Peak gorgeous mountain. We spent the next several days relishing in the freedom of skiing down the lush trails, while absorbing the glorious breathtaking views.

After Queenstown, we drove down to the Milford Sound region and boarded a ferry onto the water. The area is absolutely breathtaking. Tree covered hills, mountains and rocks overflowing with multiple waterfalls peak through magical mist. Seals dance and play without a care in the world. We spent the night in the “charming” Gunn’s Camp which was cold and damp and quite miserable at the time, but added to the unique experience in retrospect. We all bundled around the coal burning stove which doubled as an oven to cook soup and make tea on.

My four Irish friends and I decided to rent a car upon returning to Queenstown and set out on a cross country drive to Dunedin, a small university town which is located on the East Coast. The drive was spectacular. The scenery never gets old in New Zealand. If I could have put one of the lambs into my backpack, I would have. There I met up with my friend Holly, another Kiwi friend that I had met at the Yoga retreat in Bali and she treated me to a reggae show by the local group Kachafire which was extraordinary.

After a couple of days of exploring Dunedin, we made our way back to Queenstown and then jumped on yet another bus to Christchurch. A few days later, I sadly hugged my Irish friends’ goodbye and continued the journey up the coastline on my own. I drove up to Kaikoura and spent time falling in love with baby seals before making my way to Nelson, an adorable hippie town that I was told I would adore. I checked into the delightful Accents on the Park hostel which felt more like a Bed and Breakfast and inquired about the local yoga schools which the town was well known for. I spent the next week submersing myself in multiple yoga and meditation classes and even took a day to Paraglide off a mountain top.

Marianne suggested I check out a Yoga and Meditation Ashram in Takaka which is located in the Golden Bay. I rented a car and drove up the astonishing seashore and arrived in what I consider to be the closest I have been to paradise. Upon pulling into the gates of the Anahata Ashram, I felt overwhelmed with a deep profound feeling of peace. After settling into my room, I was given my schedule for the week. Every day we were woken up at 4:30 am and were sitting in the Yoga Shala by 5 am for silent meditation and chanting which was followed by breakfast in silence until 8:30 am. From then to 12 pm we were given “Karma Yoga” shores which is work that you do with an open heart and mindful attention. I was asked to work in the garden which gave me a tremendous amount of pleasure. All of the food that they eat at Anahata is grown on the property which is completely sustainable. Yoga Nidra is practiced before lunch, then Karma Yoga is continued until 5:30 pm. Yoga class is given at 6 pm followed by a light dinner and then silence is enforced by 8:30 pm until 8:30 am the following morning.

Although most people would find the schedule at Anahata too rigid, I felt perfectly at home there. If I could, I would have stayed for months but it was time to head back up to Marianne’s home in Paekakariki to begin planning the next leg of my journey: South East Asia.

New Zealand taught me so much about myself. For one, it reminded me that I love adventure and spontaneity. It also confirmed, yet again, how important it is for me to reside in nature. I learned so much about gardening and the importance of living in a sustainable and efficient way. I hope to take all of the lessons that I learned there and apply them to my life back home, wherever that ends up being.

Much Love and Light.
xoxo

Make Like a Kangaroo and Hop Forward

While clearing out my inbox on my computer today, I came across so many emails that were sent to me prior to my leaving Los Angeles back in March. So many kind words of encouragement were sent my way. It was nice to be reminded of the love and support that so many people showed me. I remember the inner fear that I was experiencing before taking off that I tried so hard to mask. Now, as I sit and write from Paekakariki, a small village located on the South West tip of New Zealand's North Island, I am amazed at all that I have seen and experienced in such a short time. My days have been so busy that time seems to escape me. My stories are endless and could fill a large book but I will share some highlights.

My last three weeks in Australia were nothing short of astounding and absolutely life altering. Each day was better than the last. The adventures continued throughout the Northern Territory with hikes through Kings Canyon and into the sacred Uluru area. Ayer's Rock is one of the most magnificent natural wonders that I have ever experienced. Sleeping under the stars and then guiding people through yoga at it's base will stay embedded in my soul forever. The rock glows and it's body seems to move like waves. If you ever get the chance to come to Australia please fore go the warnings that Uluru is simply a tourist attraction. It is an absolute phenomenon and not to be missed. I feel incredibly blessed to have experienced it.

Years ago I learned about the Law of Attraction and the power that each of us has to manifest anything that we truly want into our lives. What I really wanted was to finish my final week in the Outback with a smaller group and that is exactly what I got. The last seven days was spent with three other girls and a tour guide, all of whom I now consider to be friends for life. When I learned about our final "numbers", I laughed out load while the others looked on in astonishment because I knew that this was how we were all meant to experience the last leg of our tour and I am so happy to say that my intuition was absolutely dead on. Due to the size of our group, we were able to explore places and areas that would not have been possible with more people.

One of the highlights of our trip together was a stop in a surreal town called Coober Pedy, an opal mining town located in the Central Territory. The entire community lives underground to escape the heat which can reach up to around 115 degrees or more. Our tour guide Sean rescued a baby kangaroo after it's mom was hit by a car months ago and brought it to a couple who take care of orphaned roos in an art gallery there. Holding and loving on the baby roo was absolute magic. Kangaroos are such fascinating creatures and besides their cute factor, I love that they can only hop forward. It is impossible for them to hop backwards. Whenever I begin to dwell on stories from my past, I now think about them and focus on hopping forward. Brings a smile to my face and lightness to my heart.

Our trip carried us into the majestic terrain of Flinders Ranges National Park which is rich in wildlife including Kangaroos, Emus and Yellow Tailed Wallabees. We spent an afternoon rock climbing up steep terrain in search of the latter and we were fortunate to find dozens who were as curious about us as we were about them. Aborigines have lived in the area for tens of thousands of years and their energy is felt throughout with rock art sites and fossil remains.

On our final day together, we woke up at 4 am and hiked up to the top of one of the mountains in time for sunrise. I took our group through a beautiful sun meditation and then guided them into some sun salutations. As an eagle soared above our heads, we all sat in silent gratitude for the magic that unfolded over the week.

I was so sad to leave my new traveling family but have grown accustomed to moving on over the past months and settled into a new hostel in Adelaide. Pulling into this small city reconfirmed thoughts that I have been having about life back home. I am no longer a city girl. This feeling has been brewing for quite some time but being in the Outback solidified any doubt I had. My spirit is more at ease in nature, away from the noise and chaos of the urban world.

While I was in Bali, several of my new friends suggested that I visit the Byron Bay area located on the East Coast in New South Wales. I booked a flight and made a reservation at a hostel there called The Arts Factory. When I arrived, I immediately felt at home thanks to the multiple yoga studios and New Age bookstores. Artists, hippies and backpackers grace the streets barefoot and smiling. Although the main draw to the hostel was their advertising daily yoga and meditation classes, I was disappointed to find out that their teacher had flown overseas and the classes were canceled. After spending a few days in the area, I knew it was time to make a move which is when I met my new travel companion.

Francesca and I met while waiting for a bus into town and immediately felt a kinship. She had been traveling for almost a month in Australia from London. We had separately been told that we would love a town called Mullimbimby and decided on the spot to pack our bags and figure out a way to get there the following day.

After catching a ride and arriving into the small town, we both fell in love with the area and knew we had made the right decision. We checked into a motel and inquired about renting a car which led us to a local car repair shop. Although I have never driven on the right side, I knew that this would be the most ideal way to see the country and I was ready for the challenge.

We ended up renting a small red, very old, very beat up car which we named "Sally". She had a lot of trouble making it up hills, which was more of an inconvenience for people driving behind us and her lights were painfully low even on high beam but she took us to places that I am so happy I go the chance to experience.

We began our road trip just outside of Mullimbimby to the enchanting Crystal Castle which is nestled in the mountains. There we walked the beautiful grounds which are graced by the largest crystals that I have ever seen. After walking through the rainforest and getting photographs taken of our auras, we hopped in our little car and set off to the Minyan Falls. While making our way up the road to the waterfall, it began to dawn on us just how much of a lemon our little car was. As she slowly made it up the mountain, with a major lump in my throat, and the sun setting, we both looked it at each other and knew it would be wise to head on to the next location, a little (soon to discover, teeny tiny is more accurate) town named Uki.

While driving into town, we realized very quickly that Uki consists of about 3 main locations: a pub, a gas station and a grocery store. The latter were both closed. The drive there was nothing short of adventurous: imagine winding unpaved roads, no road signs, no street lights and a car with painfully dim headlights. Needless to say, we were both exhausted. We hadn't booked a bed for the night and made a pact that if we were not able to find something, that little Sally would become our home for the night. We had both spent enough time sleeping outside over the past weeks, that sleeping in car didn't seem like a bad option.

As I parked next to a large amount of motorcycles outside the pub, we both looked at each other with a grin full knowing that we were in for an experience. The minute we opened the door to the pub, it seemed as though every eye was on us and the music came to a hault. Apparently very few strangers visit Uki. We rushed up to the bartender to inquire about accommodation and she tossed a book of brochures our way. We quickly decided on a Bed and Breakfast called Shambala which is run by a local hippie couple and nestled high in the hills.

The rest of our week unfolded like a nomadic fairy tale with visits to a Hare Krishna Ashram, in Murwimballah, a few days in Nimbin which is a town straight out of the drug hazed 60s, a day trip to the lovely Bangalow area where we took part in a glorious drum circle, sunbathing on the beach in Brunswick Heads and finally a strenuous hike up Mt Warning which reminded me that I am capable of doing absolutely anything if I put my mind to it.

We rounded out our week by returning our little car back in Mullimbimby and catching a bus back to Byron Bay. I was sad to hug Francesca goodbye, but, again, goodbyes have become commonplace even though they are never easy.

I checked into a new hostel in Byron Bay, submersed myself in hours of daily yoga classes and planned for my final chapter in Oz: a journey to the Blue Mountains and a couple of days in Sydney.

Arriving in the majestic Blue Mountains, which is located just 2 1/2 hours outside of Sydney was amazing. The views are swept up by miles and miles of gorgeous blue hued Eucalyptus trees and raw rocks. I made friends quickly at the Flying Fox Hostel which felt more like a private mountain home with a cozy fireplace and warm hosts. Over the next few days, my new friends and I took road trips to visit an area called the "Lost City", a Glow Worm cave nestled deep in the mountains, a trek up to the Three Sisters, Echo Point and numerous other treks up to water falls in the area.

While in the mountains, I received an email from Ben Lee, whose wedding in India last December is the reason I am traveling now. He was doing a tour in Australia with the very talented Aimee Mann and invited me to come to a show in Sydney. So I hopped on yet another train to Sydney, settled into one of my Outback friend Denise's home in Bondi Beach and met Ben for dinner. It was so nice to spend time with a friend from back home, it felt like being home and reminded me that I am loved and supported and have wonderful people to return back to when I am ready.

My last night in Oz was spent at Ben's show at the Enmore Theatre. A perfect ending to a perfect experience in a beautiful country. The memories will stay with me forever and I will be endlessly grateful for the strength of spirit that I have found there. The layers have stripped and I vow to continue to hop forward from now on just like a kangaroo with deep gratitude in my heart.

Om Namo Narayani
xox

Following The Intuition Road to Oz

There was no question where I needed to go after Bali. Despite having been invited to join friends in Cambodia, Thailand and Vietnam, too many signs kept pointing me in the direction of the Australian Outback. I was told by more than a few healers and psychics in Ubud that I now needed to go to the Oz’s Northern Territory, to be in wide open space, away from cities, away from large groups of people, a place to tap into and trust my intuition on a deeper level. But I was also warned that my trip would not be easy and several challenges would cross my path but that it was essential that I stick with it and not let the negative deter me from the beautiful experiences that would eventually unfold. This could not have been truer.

I flew to Darwin, located at the Northern tip of Australia, from Bali because the flight was cheap and the Outback trek that I wanted to do began there. Australia is a lot more expensive than India and Indonesia so my only accommodation option was to check into a hostel which ironically is more expensive than any hotel, guest house or ashram that I have lived in, in the past 4 months and it is also the most run down and the most challenging.

My flight landed at 3:30 am and I boarded a shuttle bus to the hostel. When I arrived, I was greeted by a group of very young, very drunk rowdy 20 year olds who were hanging out by the reception area. They set the tone for the next four days. My room was a shared room with two bunk beds. The carpets were dirty, the room smelled like feet, the mold in the shower was enough to make me almost not want to bathe and each new roommate was drunker than the last.

I sadly had to leave Bali early because my visa was running out and I could not extend it. I needed a couple of days of preparation in order to get ready for my 14 day trek into the Outback where, as I have been told, I will be living outside on campsites under the stars, with little to no access to the “real world”. I am now an official backpacker; my large suitcase is gone as are most of my belongings and I could not be more grateful for the lightness that that has brought to my travels.

I booked the trek with a tour company called “Adventure Tours” upon recommendation from a few friends that I met in Bali who had travelled extensively in Australia. Ideally I would have loved to have been able to explore the Outback on my own, and at my own pace, but given the size, depth and potential danger that exists there the idea was simply out of the question.

The tour bus picked me up at the hostel at 5:30 am on a Thursday morning. The other backpackers came from all over the world; Canada, Denmark, England, Germany, Spain, Sweden and France. I was the only American on the bus which is something I have become accustomed to. Everyone seemed very sweet except for a frowning couple from France who did not speak a word of English. Because of this, I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, introduced myself and let them know that I am fluent in French. They seemed thrilled that I would be able to translate for them if they were having trouble understanding our guide.

Our first stop was at waterfalls in Litchfield National Park. As the rest of the group swam in the first body of water, I found a remote rock, settled in, and began to meditate. The land feels alive with energy here and I felt so grateful to be connected with it.

We made our way to Florence Falls which features a gorgeous cascading waterfall with a very large natural swimming pool. As I swam to the belly of the rushing water, I began to feel overwhelmed with an enormous amount of humility and gratitude for yet another phenomenal experience. I thought about so many of my friends back home who have dreamt of coming to Australia for years but who have not been able to due to financial constraints. I am abundantly aware of how fortunate I am and because of this, have vowed to not take a second of my experience here for granted. As my new friends and I played and laughed in the perfect water, I noticed the French couple sitting on the rocks looking as though they were annoyed by something. As I made my way back to land to dry off, I asked if they were okay. Their response was that they were disappointed that there were so many people on the tour with them (12 of us in total). They then asked me if I knew how many more waterfalls our guide was intending on bringing us to. I knew that we had two more full days of hiking up to and swimming in various waterfalls in Kakadu National Park and that personally I was thrilled at the prospect of diving into more sacred water. The Frenchman snarled back “we would not be caught dead swimming in one of those dirty pools. That would be like bathing in someone’s dirty bath water.” Interesting view, I thought to myself. There is nothing remotely dirty about these pools by the way. They are exquisite, clean, clear bodies of beautiful water.

The second half of our day was spent on a boat ride up the Mary River Wetlands where we were introduced to a variety of crocodiles, wallabies and other natural wildlife. Our day ended at a secluded campsite at Point Stuart Wilderness park where we cooked and then settled in for an early night’s sleep in free standing tents. The French couple continued to complain about the food and the accommodations but being that I was the only one who understood them, I decided to bite my tongue and vowed to try to ignore them for the next 13 days.

The following two days were more magnificent than the first. Kakadu National Park is a magnificent dream. After viewing ancient Aboriginal rock art at Ubirr, we made our way up to the top of the Nardab lookout where I preceded to submerse myself in a series of Sun Salutations. The vast and infinite landscape is so astonishing that it brought tears to my eyes. From there we made our way up Maguk (Barramundi Gorge) for a strenuous hike which was rewarded by gorgeous plunge pools. As everyone else swam and as I meditated at the top of the rocks, I noticed the French couple had not so much as dipped their toes in the water. I began to feel sorry for them. How could they be here, surrounded by such beauty and completely take it for granted. I wanted to scream and tell them how fortunate they are but knew intuitively that my words would fall on deaf ears.

The following day involved a lot of driving, hiking and more swimming in Jim Jim and Twin Falls. The pools at Twin Falls are fantastic and involve climbing up rocks barefoot to make the way to hidden pools in the surrounding area. A small adventurous group of us made our way to the furthest pool, and as we arrived at the highest rock, I taught a very short impromptu yoga class. The landscape here calls for yoga and I feel honored to introduce my beloved practice to my new friends.

As we all made our way back to the bus, an Aboriginal man (who we found out later owned the land we were on) asked our group if anyone had a cigarette. The only smokers in the group were the French couple (smoking like disrespectful chimneys in national parks ). One of the girls from Denmark said "the French couple have one but they don't speak English" to which the Aboriginal man replied "well can someone translate" so I did. I turned to the couple and said, in French, "can you spare a cigarette for him because otherwise he has to drive 3 hours (!) into town to get one". The Frenchman looked in my eyes and said, in French, " No. Mind your business. I understood what he wanted and I was not about to give a black Aboriginal man one of my cigarettes." I was horrified. Climbed in the bus and said "what an asshole", utterly disgusted.

We were heading back into Darwin for the night and made a pit stop for drinks. As I descended from the bus, the Frenchman was standing outside smoking and called me over to him and said "you know that stunt you pulled with me earlier. That is never to happen again. Do we understand each other?" I said "I am not sure I know what you mean." He said " I understood what the man wanted and I was not about to give him one of my cigarettes. You need to know when to open your mouth. You pull that shit again and you and I are going to have some major issues on this trip. Do we have an understanding?" I just looked him in the eyes and said "you are a real asshole of a man. Do you know that?" I walked away and could hear him behind me saying "As long as we understand each other. You better watch yourself!"

I walked up to rest of the group shaking. I felt threatened. I told the tour guide, she called the front office. They said unless he was physically threatening that there was nothing they could do, the only option would be for me to join another tour 2 days later. Although I was sad to be leaving the rest of the group, I knew intuitively that I would be better off. I could not fathom being stuck on a bus for 11 more days with such negative energy even if that meant enduring another couple days in a hostel in Darwin.

I am so happy that I listened to my inner guide. It was actually nice to be back in Darwin, to be able to pick up essentials that I had not thought of purchasing prior to my first take off and to better prepare myself for the next leg of my journey. The new group that I joined were kind, grateful and a lot of fun. We bathed in waterfalls in Katherine Gorge, took an art class with an Aboriginal artist, I did yoga in the light of the Full Moon, fed a camel apples right from my mouth, swam in a natural hot spring swamp which was like swimming in Heaven, meditated on top of a humongous rock in the sacred Devils Marbles desert and drank beers at the Daly Waters outback hotel, the Territory's oldest pub.

I have 10 more days left on my tour and I imagine each day will be better than the last. My intuition is in high gear, my heart is full of gratitude, my mind is clear. I am happy. Life is blessed. Australia is a dream. It is, as the locals call it, Oz .

Sending love a many blessings from Oz.
xoxo

Healing in Ubud

I have had a terrible case of writer's block over the past month in Bali or, as my mother cutely refers to it, “writer’s blog”. The experiences that I have had here are so surreal and beautiful that I feel like it would be almost impossible to adequately capture my experiences on a page. I could never do them justice but I will do my best.

The decision to come to Bali initially took place in December 2008 while I was in India for Ben and Ione’s wedding. It was my last night at Peedam and I had just experienced a private fire ceremony in the heart of Amma’s Golden Temple. My friends, Jo and Edo, were sitting in the dining room at the ashram and we were discussing dreams and my yearning to break free and travel for awhile. They mentioned that they might be going to Bali in June for a yoga retreat and would I be interested in joining them if they did. I was on such a high from the experience at the temple that I answered “yes!” without hesitation. There was simply no question that I needed to go. I am so happy that I listened to my intuition.

I booked the retreat while I was travelling in India in May. I did not know where I was going and never bothered to look up the Bagus Jati resort website. All I had was the date to arrive and an address. I was told that we would be located in Ubud, which I was really excited to experience since my last two weeks had been spent in Canggu which is more residential and not as hippie/ artsy as I understood Ubud to be. When I gave the address to Nyoman, the sweet taxi driver who had been taking such good care of me on my treks back and forth to the orphanage in Denpasar, he informed me that I would actually be staying a good ½ hour outside of Ubud. “You will be residing in the mountains, in the wilderness. It is a very beautiful, magical place.” He assured me.

Now I know I keep repeating throughout my journey that each place I have been to so far to be “breathtaking” and “mind blowing” but THIS place was unbelievable. I could have never have dreamed a dream as beautiful and serene as Bagus Jati. The property is located in the mountains, everywhere you look is green. My “room” was actually a self standing bungalow with a straw thatched roof. The interior was stunning with twin beds (my roommate was Dans, a yoga teacher from Australia, who I fell madly in love with) and the bathroom is equipped with massage tables. The landscape of the property is exquisite. We are living on multi tiered levels of what must have been rice fields at some point.

Each day of the retreat consisted of 2 daytime yoga classes, the evenings ended with Kirtan (devotional call and response chanting which is led by Edo and Jo and is quite possibly my favorite aspect of the retreat) and meditation. One day involved a gorgeous hike to the top of Mt Batur (1.717 Meters), a Balinese volcano, which began at 3 am. We arrived at the top for sunrise and proceeded to chant the Gayatri Mantra as the sun flooded the sky. Some of us proceeded to hike into a tiny cave inside the volcano and participated in an impromptu Puja ceremony which set my heart on fire once again.

The people that I met during the retreat are some of the kindest, most compassionate and inspiring friends I have ever made who came from all corners of the world: Australia, Germany, New Zealand, and the US. On our final day, one of our teachers led us in an exercise called “Angel Whispers” where one yogi at a time was blindfolded and was led around the circle and each of us whispered what we appreciated about them softly in their ear. I kept my hands on my heart the whole time for fear that it might leap out of my chest if I let go.

After the retreat, some of us decided to take an impromptu trip to the Gilli Islands which are located off the North East coast of Bali. We spent four blissful days of snorkeling, bike riding, surfing, boat riding and sun bathing.

I returned to Ubud with Jo, Edo, Kay and Chrissi and checked into the lovely Ubud Aura which has been my home now for over a month. The hotel is owned by the local Guru, Mr. Ketut Arsana. He is a healer who also runs the beautiful Bodyworks massage center and Ashram Munivara. My room looks over acres of rice patties and I am woken up each day by the sounds of roosters and local farmers scaring birds away from their crops.

We are located right next door to Yoga Barn, the main Ubud yoga studio which becomes my home away from home. I attend classes daily which range from various Yoga styles to Tai Chi to meditation to lectures about life and spirituality. I am amazed at how much there is to learn and I am fascinated by it all.

Some people come to Bali, specifically Ubud, from all corners of the world to heal; the healing can be physical, emotional, mental or spiritual. Whatever ailment or suffering you are going through, there is most likely someone here with a remedy for it. Although I was not ailing from anything specific, I was still curious and open to meet with healers per friends’ suggestions.

The first healer I visited with in Ubud was an elderly man named Jokrta Ray (sp?). He is supposedly in his mid to late 80s but looks about 60. He spoke very little English but lead me to sit down on the floor between his legs. He proceeded to dig his fingers into different parts of my head, some areas hurt more than others. He told me that all of my organs are functioning properly except my mind. “You think too much. Your mind is overactive.” He then layed me down on the floor and began to press into my toes with a wooden stick. As tears streamed down my face, he started to make some drawings on my stomach while chanting in Balinese. I was then sat up and told to look at myself “in the mirror every day and smile big, then swallow your smile and feel it in your heart, solar plexus and sex organs. Then bring the smile up to your face again. No more living in the past. No more living in the mind. Now is what you have. The present time is all that matters. Enjoy your life completely and laugh out loud every day.” He then patted me on the back and sent me on my way. When I met up with my friend Ged (my gorgeous English neighbor/ soul sister who has been living in Australia for the past year) afterwards, she said I was glowing. I had no idea what had just happened but something in me felt lighter.

The following day, Ged and I went to our appointment with Wayan, the female healer who became famous after Elizabeth Gilbert’s account of her in “Eat. Pray. Love.” My session at the Balinese Healing Center has been a definite highlight of my trip, an experience I will remember forever. Wayan is a nice looking Balinese woman with a spitfire personality. Her “office” opens onto the street and my initial “consultation” took place in front of complete strangers (this tends to be the norm with healers in Bali, there is no room for shyness or secrecy here). She began by examining my legs and back, looked into my eyes and at my tongue. Her assessment of everything was exactly right on point from the ligament issues that I have in my left knee to the lower back pain that I occasionally suffer from. She then read my palm which was also accurate. From there, I was escorted upstairs to a room where I was instructed to change into a sarong. I was then sat down on a chair and for the next hour and a half my body was scrubbed down with herbs, mud and potions by 2 to 3 people at a time. Wayan stood over me occasionally, chanting over my body and blowing on my stomach at random intervals. This was followed by an hour long massage, shower with herbs and the most delicious meal that I have had to date. At the end of the session, Wayan stood me in front of a mirror and asked me what I saw. I saw happiness. My skin and spirit were glowing. I feel grateful and fortunate. As I hugged Wayan goodbye, she whispered softly in my ear “you have a beautiful heart. Don’t get stuck in your mind. Live for today; not for yesterday. Now is all you have.” If I was a skeptic, I would have thought that the healer from the day before had called her up and warned her that I was coming but being a believer, I decide to take their guidance to heart. I too had something to heal, as do we all.

I have visited with psychics and Qi Gong teachers, spent days bathing in holy water with Balinese devotees, taken a trip to Nusa Lembongan (a little healing island just South of Bali) and even went in for a “chakra tune up” and so far the most healing experience I have had has been the time that I spend with the children at the orphanage teaching yoga. That is when I am most “present”, feel most grateful and most at peace. This is how I know that I have found my calling. When I look at photos that friends have taken of me teaching, I see the same “glow” in my face as the day I spent with Wayan. The children are my healers and my teachers and they are the reason I set out on this journey. If someone had told me 10 years ago while I was working as a publicist in New York, promoting Hip Hop stars and fashion designers, that I would end up teaching children yoga and meditation, I would have probably thought that they were crazy. And not crazy in a bad way, crazy in a “that’s too good to be true way". India and Bali have shown me that when you follow your heart and have faith in yourself, anything is possible.

Sending healing love and light from Ubud.
xoxo

For The Love of Children

I love children. I love their innocence, their honesty and their resilience. My trip has been one of giving back, of sharing my time and heart with as many people as possible.

I was so happy and excited to begin my work with the children at the orphanage in Bali. I had emailed with Cecilia, the orphanage manager, prior to arriving and had offered to teach the children at Care for Kids Bali, Art, English and Yoga. She seemed so kind and loving throughout our communication and I knew intuitively that she and I would quickly become friends.

The morning after my first night in Bali, I met Cecilia at a Kindergarten that Allison Chester built for the local village (I am living with a modern Mother Theresa, more about her later) which is a few doors down from the family compound I am staying in. When I walk through the gates, I am overwhelmingly greeted by a large group of some of the cutest kids I have ever seen. They all rush to grab my hands and hug me with such delight. My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. They escort me into one of their bright and beautiful classrooms and begin to sing songs, play on drums and show off their hula hoop skills. Cecilia arrives and greets me with a warm hug. “I am so happy you are here. The kids at the orphanage are looking forward to meeting you.” she says.

Cecilia works for Allison and manages this kindergarten as well as the orphanage. She has lived in Bali her whole life and has never travelled anywhere else. Her smile could light up a room and her heart beams out of her chest. Her energy is infectious. As we make the drive towards the orphanage in Depensar, which takes about 45 minutes from Canggu, Cecilia tells me a little about the children and what I can expect. They speak very little English but are very willing and open to learning. The age range is 1 to 18. Most of the kids come from a poverty stricken island called Somba where their parents still live but are unable to provide for their children so living in an orphanage is their only hope for basics such as food, shelter and an education.

When we arrive at the orphanage, I am immediately struck by how clean it is. The space is not large but very open and rich in plant life. The walls are painted with a beautiful mural graced with animals and ocean scenery. Overall the energy feels happy here which surprises me. Cecilia takes me to the main courtyard where groups of kids begin to pour out with warm greetings of “Hello! How are you? What is your name? Where are you from?” They have been taught to say “thank you” and “please” and to say their names and age. Although the conversations pretty much stop there, I am very impressed with their willingness to communicate.

I ask a couple of the older girls to show me around their home. They take me to their rooms which house four bunk beds and 2 dressers for clothing. The laundry area is drowned in piles of clothes and stacks of shoes sit at the entranceways to their rooms. The bathrooms are in need of a makeover, a lot of the doors have come off the hinges and the “toilets” (basically holes in the ground) seem to be crumbling away. There are 2 main social areas, a computer room which is the most popular area for the older kids and a communal area with rattan chairs and couches. The kitchen and dining area are in an open space overlooking a small grass area. The kids excitedly show me a new stove that has been donated recently by a generous supporter.

Cecilia and I agree that the best way to begin would be to gather all the kids together so that we can introduce ourselves to each other. She begins the process and suddenly I am sitting on the grass with 42 beautiful Indonesian children staring back at me. We go around the circle, and one by one they tell me their name, age and what their favorite hobby is (football is a dominant favorite but I jokingly tell them that yoga is just as fun which is met with huge laughter). I then introduce myself and tell them why I am here and what I will be teaching them.

Over the next two weeks, I arrive at the orphanage at about 11 am five days per week. I make sure to teach English every day and cater to the various age ranges and abilities of the kids. The little ones like to learn colors, animals and parts of the body, the older ones prefer to learn basic communication skills. I find myself using a lot of the improvisation techniques that I learned in acting school many years ago. The classes are joyous and filled with laughter. I am impressed with how quickly they begin to learn and how excited they are every time I announce class time.

Teaching the children Yoga is a dream of mine and I feel so grateful to be able to share my passion with them. I ask Jogi (pronounced "Yogi", which is too beyond perfect), an 18 year old boy who lives at the orphanage, who has the sweetest disposition and speaks English pretty well, to help me translate my guidance into English which he does willingly and with graceful ease. I am overwhelmed at how focused the children are and how easily they take to the poses. It becomes clearer and clearer to me with each class that this is what I am meant to do: teach children yoga. I have never felt more satisfaction with any work I have ever done, I have never felt so fulfilled, I have never felt more in tune and in line with the Divine.

My personal Yoga practice only really began about 2 years ago and my life has been transformed since. I can’t even imagine how different my life experience would have been had I been given the tools that I have learned when I was young so to be able to share what I know now with other kids is really a tremendous blessing. I love coming up with new creative ways to teach them and engage their interest and attention. There is nothing quite like watching a group of children sit in meditation. How beautiful to be a small part of teaching consciousness and awareness of self.

I spent my birthday, June 11th, at the orphanage. When the kids sang “Happy Birthday” it felt as though my heart might leap out of my chest. Being with them was the absolute best birthday gift I have ever received.

Although I have committed to a yoga retreat in Ubud, I have promised the kids that I will be back to teach which they are excited about. I am committed to helping them and sharing my heart with as many children in Bali as possible. They have given me so much more than they will ever know. They are MY teachers.

To make a donation to the Jodie O’Shea Orphanage (a little goes a LONG way), please visit their website: http://www.careforkidsbali.com/

With gratitude, sending Love & Light.
xoxo

And Then There Was Bali

My last few days in India were perfect. I saturated myself in yoga and time with the babies at Rogpa then made a plan to visit Amritsar and the Sikh's Golden Temple before flying down to Singapore. Despite the heat, the experience at the Temple was beautiful and it was fascinating to experience yet another spiritual belief system in India and the commitment of the individual devotees.

Arriving in Singapore was a complete culture shock. The airport is immaculate, gorgeous orchid plants grace the path to the baggage claim and getting through immigration was smooth and effortless, the complete opposite of India on all levels. Linda Anderson, a dear friend of my parents, came to pick me up. After a round of hugs, her first question was "do you want a latte from Coffee Bean?" Surreal. I hadn't experienced a familiar food chain in over 2 months and didn't miss them at all. I ordered a vanilla latte and silently thought about how much I preferred the Chai tea I had been drinking from side road shacks in India.

While Linda and I drove back to her beautiful home, I was astounded by the cleanliness and sterility of Singapore. It is the most immaculate city I have ever been to and the complete opposite extreme of India. I oddly found myself missing the grittiness of my last residence. Although it was amazing spending time with the Andersons' for the week, I very quickly realized that Singapore was not for me. I had very little interest in the ample shopping and excessive lifestyle. It was lovely to be in a real "home" again but I missed my $5 a night room and all its simplicity. I thought about the "stuff" that was sitting in my Public Storage unit in Los Angeles and how I wished I had gotten rid of so much more of it. I no longer want to be weighed down by "things". I want all aspects of my life to be light so that I can easily pack and take off at a moment's notice. The highlight of my trip was a day trek inside Singapore's rainforest, away from cars and man made noise and deeply embraced by nature. Simple. Beautiful. Basic.

By the end of the week, I was excited to pack my bags again to fly off to my next destination: Bali, the enigmatic wonderland that has always been second on my list of "dream destinations".

I was invited to stay with my mother's friend, Glen Arthur, a South African fashion designer who she knew from the garment business. Glen lives on a family compound in Bali part of the year and is involved with an orphanage on the island. Although we have never met, he assured me via email that I would have a home in Bali if I needed it as well as ample volunteer opportunities with the orphans. Throughout my communication prior to coming, Glen kept "warning" me that the home was nothing fancy, just a very simple family home and he hoped that I would be okay with it. I assured him that I would be happy with a mat on the floor somewhere.


My flight to Bali was delayed by a few hours from Jakarta (which I flew into from Singapore) so I sat around in the airport and began to realize that my "learn the Indonesian language" lessons that I had been listening to on my IPod did me no good. I had been warned that most people do not speak English here but I was not expecting such a dramatic language barrier.

Glen and his friend Claudia picked me up at the airport and we made the journey to my new "home". The drive there was fascinating. Bali reminds me of India in a lot of ways. There are temples everywhere and beautiful flower offerings in front of every doorway. Locals travel mostly by motorcycle and stray dogs are abundant. Unique to Bali are the rice patties which are so beautiful and rich in color. Fields of green soaked in murky water. Seeing them never gets old, each one I pass is more beautiful then the next. We pull into a driveway and are greeted by two men in uniform. "Who are they?"I ask Glen. "Oh, they are the home's security.", he responds nonchalantly while pushing open a very large carved wood door whereupon my jaw literally dropped to the ground. I had been invited to stay in paradise. Lush gardens paved the way to one of the most beautiful homes I have ever been in. Beautiful Balinese beds, Buddha statues, amazing art, all poured onto a magnificent pool.

After being introduced to the cooks (Yes, you read correctly. They have cooks who have been pre informed that I am a vegetarian and who have already prepared menus for my arrival. Insane! Just a simple family home in Bali...), I am brought over to the pool to meet all of the compound family members. Allison Chester is the owner of this home and the founder of the orphanage I will be working in; Yanto is Allison's husband; Emma and Rachel are Allison's daughters and they each have separate homes on the property; Keilo is Rachel's son and Isabella is Emma's daughter; Mikala is Emma's husband; Tamar is a travelling nomad who has been living in Bali off and on for over 20 years and Rasmini is an Indonesian princess who has been friends with the family for ages (she is British and was somehow asked to be a princess in Bali for reasons I am still unclear on.)Everyone greets me warmly and Glen guides me to my bedroom which is in a bungalow above the pool. Again, my jaw drops and gratitude prevails. My bed is a four post beauty draped in mosquito netting and the room opens up onto a balcony overlooking the pool. Paradise found and I keep pinching myself that I am here.

Glen tells me to unpack and get changed because he wants to take me to a local Balinese healer nearby. As we drive through back allies, villages and rice patties I am reminded over and over how incredibly fortunate I am to be having this experience. It has become so clear over the past 2 months that the decision to make this journey was the best one I have ever made. The opportunities that have been afforded to me and the people who have come into my life are miraculous.

We arrive at the healer’s compound and are greeted by monkeys, roosters, dogs and children. Glen guides me into the waiting room and reminds me that my experience here will only work if I let go of any skepticism that may come up. The healer is dressed in head to toe white garb and asks my name, he then says “tell me about your heart.” “How did he know?” I think to myself since I have given him no additional information besides my name and I rarely speak about my heart condition. I have been suffering from chronic chest pains for the past two years and was finally diagnosed with Mitral Valve Prolapse and a heart murmur after several months of tests. I had been told by my doctor back home that I would have to live with the pressure in my chest and that there really is nothing that can be done about it. The Balinese healer looked me the eyes and said “I will heal you.” He then took me by the hand and guided Glen and me into a temple on the compound. We are instructed to sit across from him and I am asked to put my attention on his Third Eye (located between his eyebrows) so that he can “see inside my body.” I am then asked to sit by him, with my knees touching his and to put my head on his chest with my eyes closed so that he can “take a look at my heart.” He laid me down on a mat and began to put pressure on the surrounding areas of my heart. The process is painful but despite the discomfort, I am consumed with deep faith that this man can help me. After about 20 minutes, I am brought up to seated position and he asks how I am feeling, to my astonishment the pressure in my chest is gone. He then says “you must come back twice more. I will give you some medicine to drink tonight and some medicine to put on your chest and then the pain will go away. No problem.” The session cost $15.

Afterwards, Glen and I sat with the healer as I drank my “medicine” which tasted very similar to what I imagine dirt would taste like and I began to ask this miracle man some questions about how he became a healer. He tells us that he was given this gift at a young age and that he does not do the work but channels the energy from a source greater than him. When patients look at his Third Eye, he literally can see energetic points in the body pulse and can determine what needs healing.

I leave the compound amazed, feeling healthy and grateful for yet another magical experience. When we arrive back home, a masseuse is awaiting me. I have arrived in Heaven and don’t want to ever leave. So now the plotting begins to extend my trip in Bali as long as possible.

Before going to bed, Allison lets me know that Cecilia, the orphanage manager, will be meeting me at 9 am the next morning at a nearby Kindergarten. I cannot wait to meet the kids and to begin the journey of giving back as much as possible to the wonderful Balinese people who have so graciously welcomed me to their home.

Sending love and light from Paradise. xoxo

Perspective - A Night in the Slums

Every day in India alters me in some way, teaches me something new and stirs my spirit. But despite all of the beauty, intensity and adventure that has occurred no experience has impacted me quite so deeply as the one I had the other day when I was invited to stay at a friends’ house in the slums of Dharamshala.

Reita and Rimpal are a gorgeous Indian couple who own a meditation and yoga studio here in McLeod Ganj. I met Reita and her 9 month old baby, Shagun, when I moved into my little “home” here at the bottom of the hill. We were immediately drawn to each other and quickly began a friendship. Reita teaches Hindi and is trained in Acupressure. Her husband teaches Yoga and Meditation. She and Rimpal have been living in Dharamshala for 5 years. She is 26 years old and he is 32.

After my yoga class in another studio, I am usually greeted by Reita and we go into the meditation hall to talk about life and spirituality. I enjoy learning about Indian traditions from her and she loves hearing about my life in the US. She has never travelled outside of Northern India but is deeply interested and curious about the world at large. She asks if I have ever spent time in an Indian household, when I let her know that I have not, she invites me over for dinner and a sleepover the following night. When I accept the offer she says, “Wonderful! But please know that we are very poor and live in only one very small room with plastic for a roof.” I assure her that this doesn’t matter to me and that I am very grateful for the invitation. Elated, she and Rimpal then ask me what my favorite Indian food is to which I happily share: Palek Paneer (spinach with cheese) and Raita (yogurt with cucumber and tomato). We make a plan to meet the following evening at 7 pm in their Yoga Hall.

When I arrive to meet them the following night, I bring a gift with me that I know they would appreciate, a little statue of Lakshmi that I have been travelling with that I had gotten at Amma’s ashram during my last trip to India in December. Lakshmi is the goddess of prosperity, wealth, purity, generosity, and the embodiment of beauty. Reita and Rimpal are very touched and immediately place her on their altar in the studio, sit down and begin to chant to her.

Transportation for a lot of Indians is by motorcycle and this is how my friends travel back and forth from McLeod Ganj to lower Dharamshala every day with their nine month old baby. The roads are steep and quite dangerous but there is no alternative for them and despite Reita’s obvious fear of getting on the bike, she usually does so happily but is thrilled that I am her guest and that we will be travelling by taxi. The journey to their home takes about a half an hour. Despite the late hour, she excitedly points out different locations in town that are a part of her daily life.

When we arrive at their home, I am surprised at how nice it is despite the fact that the walls are crumbling and the roof is in fact made out of black plastic. The room is very small with their bed as the central element to the space. They do not have a wardrobe or closet, just a plank table where small piles of clothing are set up next to about 4 toys that belong to their baby, Shagun. There is no kitchen, only a small stove that sits on the floor in front of the bed. There is no refrigerator and no running water. I ask them what they do about storing their food and they tell me that they only purchase enough food for their daily meals. Any leftovers are handed out to animals living in the street (cows, dogs, goats, birds). The bathroom is in a little room across from their “house” and consists of a toilet (again, no running water) and no shower. They have a large water receptacle that they fill once a week which acts as their water tank. If they wish to bathe with warm water, they must heat some water on the stove and mix it with the cold water. They then sit on a stool and pour the water on themselves.

I am invited to sit on their bed which startles me because there is no mattress, only wood planks which are covered by very thin fabric. Shagun and I begin to play on the bed as her parents prepare dinner. Reita rolls dough and makes Chapati (traditional Indian wheat bread) and Rimpal makes the Palek Paneer and Raita. I am touched that they are making my favorite dishes and watch in awe as they do all of this on the floor with no formal cookware or supplies. Within an hour, the food is prepared and we are all excited to eat. Newspaper is placed on the bed and metal plates filled with food are placed on top of it. The food is delicious and I am in awe at the skill with which they have prepared it given the conditions of their home.

We begin to talk about life and I have a million questions for them. They tell me how they met and fell in love. Unlike most Indian arranged marriages, theirs is one of love. They met in Acupressure school and although Rimpal knew that he was in love with Reita from the first day that they met, he waited until their graduation to tell her so. Instead of directly asking her to marry him, he coyly asked “yes or no?” Once she figured out what he was asking, she happily accepted and they were married a few months later. They have been married for 5 years and are very obviously each other’s soul mate.

Rimpal only charges 50 Rupees per Yoga class in McLeod Ganj, which is way below average. Typically classes cost from 100 to 250 rupees. I know he is a wonderful teacher and I am confused as to why he charges so little. He tells me that “money is not important to us. As long as we have enough to pay our rent and can feed ourselves and our baby then we are happy. Too much money confuses people and brings grief to the heart.” I tell him that I admire and understand that but that money is necessary if they want to come visit me in the US. He says “we are always provided for. If we are meant to travel, then we will find a way. We are simple people who do not require much and are blissfully happy. We don’t want to be weighed down by things. If we wish to move, we want to be able to so effortlessly. Life can be challenging as it is. We choose simplicity.”

I began to think about my life back home in Los Angeles. How complicated things can be. When I gave up my home to come here, I sold many of my belongings at a yard sale and was still able to fill a fairly large storage unit with my stuff. I wish I had gotten rid of more and I will probably do so upon my return. In the West, we are encouraged to consume and purchase more and more stuff with the promise that things will make us happy. A bigger home, a newer car, fancy clothes. But are we really and truly happy?

I ask Rimpal what he feels the key to happiness is. He says “Meditation and faith in the Divine. These are the only way.” I believe him. Being around him makes you feel at peace. He is always smiling and laughing. He tells me that he is “always happy.” Reita agrees. Even their baby is happy. She rarely cries and is always smiling.

At about 11:30 pm, we all climb into their bed to sleep. The bed is very uncomfortable (again, we are sleeping on wood planks) and I am amazed at how quickly they fall asleep. I toss and turn for hours. It is hot. There is no air circulation. The electricity is not working so the fan is turned off. I finally fall asleep only to be woken at 6 am by Reita with a cup of Chai tea. She says “I clean. You drink your tea and play with Shagun outside.” Although I am delirious, I happily take the baby outside where we play for hours while Reita sweeps her home, bathes and chants in front of her alter. She then prepares Dahl (lentils) for us as we sit and chat like old friends. I feel so comfortable in their home that it brings tears to my eyes. Reita tells me that I am welcome in their home anytime and I can come live with them if I want to. I ask her if my two dogs are welcome as well. She says “of course. You are all welcome. “The thought of this makes me smile and makes me realize that all things are possible as long as I am open.

My heart is filled with gratitude for the experience and my perspective about life has greatly shifted. I will never take anything for granted: Running water, a comfortable bed, electricity, my ability to travel but most importantly the love of my family and friends. I am so fortunate to have the life that I do, to be able to have the experiences that I am having. And I have so much faith in the Divine.

Sending you Love and Light.
xoxo