The end of the 8th week

I know I haven't been writing. I apologize.

Time is commodity that hasn't been in abundance lately.
But now, with dialogue clinics over, things are, for all practical
purposes, on a downhill (lots of prepositions in that sentence).

This week was the most exhaustive out of the eight.
I think the cumulative fatigue, stress, sleep deprivation, overall stink, and
perpetual states of being moist had reached, and past, a point of being humorous and tolerable.

Lemmings are little mammals (rodents I believe) who live in the northern climes of
scandanavia. They are promiscuous little devil who just consume and procreate like
'there was no tommorow.' Well eventually one day, in the future, (a bikram saying)
the population becomes so large and its burden on the local ecosystem grows so heavy
that there is a exponential increase in social/biological pressure. The environment
can no longer sustain the amount of lemmings. Resources, although still available, are inadequate to sustain the entire population.
Now this is the interesting part. Because of this pressure from a stressed social
group, the lemmings disperse en mass. Their egress from their locale is so uniform
and determined that observer often mistake this departure as suicidal (anecdotally
they've been observed to head straight into oceans and lakes and, sometimes, over
cliffsides into certain furry death).

We aren't lemmings. I have no urge to flee into Topanga Canyon and take an ill-fated
leap because I'm sweaty and the room stinks but I certainly believe the environment
is definitely driving me a little nuts.

But today feels great. The mental work is over and the only thing to concentrate on
is just listening to Bikram and going to class.

Tuesday

"This week is starting well."

I write this wearing a wry smile...because you never know what could happen.


I've decided to just let go (finally) of those things I have no control over.
The buddhist have a saying: You can't make the river flow faster or slower, it just flows at it's own speed.

I think a lot of the misery that I've encountered over the course of the training has been self generated (actually I'm certain that's the case). This has been an awesome experience because it has pointed out my particular habits

The End of the fifth week.

I'm sitting here at home a little melancholic.
There are four weeks left in our training and I already am starting to miss it.
This program has been so immersive and personal. I've learned more about myself in this short time than I ever have in any other academic institution (including medical school).

The priamry thing I've learned is that 'I don't know.' It sounds like a such a simple statement and, at times, a stupid new age, alternative thing to say but I can honestly say that this is most veracious statement I've spoken. If I live another hundred years I still may never know anything. That is humbling.

Since I've started this program I've had many words of encouragment and 'hellos' from friends and well-wishers (much appreciated guys) but I've also received my fair share of imput from others with other yoga, meditation, and alternative backgrounds. Other than those of my own teachers (Val, Jeff, Monica, Krystal, Yelba, Diella, etc.) I can't say that the (unsolicited) advice has been germaine or helpful (it has been appreciated though). Everyone has their advice or nuggets of wisdom but the nature of this program is so personal that someone from the outside can't understand. Heck, even the experience amongst my teachers is unique. I've figured that personal treks like this are more about the inner geography being traversed not the actual day in and day out activities (although those things are often the vehicle leading to such journies).

Friendships and other personal relationships have been strange. I find them analogous to billiard balls bouncing about the table after the initial break. The contact is instantaneous, fleeting, yet intense. Already I've been the subject of a few school girl crushes and having a few of my own crushes as well (how juvenile, eh?). I've made friendships that have been intense one day, absent the next. That is my one lament with this environment, not enough time to connect with someone, anyone, in a significant way: friendship or otherwise. Everything seems so tenuous and, at times, contrived. Again, this is a personal journey but hey even Jesus had his apostles, Buddha was married (at one point), I don't deserve a sidekick or a travel companion on this road?

Bikram is back from Japan. Still shocking and bombastic as ever. The last lecture that he gave us was about love. One thing I learned was that he isn't a romantic... more on this later.

There is so much more I'd like to write about but it's really personal. I'm still processing some things as well....

I'm feeling a little raw right now. Like a overly scrubbed, overly exposed face. Throbbing, red, angry, and painful. Both emotionally and physically. Part of me would like to scream and run down the street naked in some sort of cathartic release (Freud would be proud). Another part of me would like to lie down and just watch the stars all night until they fade with the encroaching sunrise. Still, yet another part of me would like to be enveloped in a big hug and just stay there like that until the sun burned out and the earth faded away. My body feels fine, I just feel like I'm juggling a hundred balls and I can't drop one of them. Ironically I don't have that many things in the air...

I share the similar sentiment of of many of my classmates: I don't know if I can go back to my old life. Things have changed. I've changed. I'm hungry for more from my life. Much more than what was offered from my old routine. I'm looking for adventure, to live loudly, to live big, to love passionately, to have greater loyalty. Simply to be alive.

Owning an Audi is meaningless to me now. I'm looking for spiritual value and truth. As Bikram says, "I like money, you like money but these things, at best are %5 of your life. Even a fortune. True Spiritual value is the fortune."

We'll see what happens from now on...

The third week

tomorrow the third week begins. The 3rd and 4th week, we were warned, were the times when people would start experiencing 'drama.' She must know this from experience because I'm finding her words to already speak true. I've already been embroiled in my own little mini-drama. Admittedly, it was of my own creation, three confusing cases of puppy love that seemed to go nowhere. Very confusing. You'd think I'd know something about women by this time (I'm 31) but apparently I do not...(elaboration to come in later posts).

I can feel the emotions bubbling up more than usual. The tedium and fatigue that sets in during the long days definitely does irritate and provoke curious thoughts and a hunger for anything else to replace the monotony.

The dust gets stirred up...

Warning: self indulgent (according to Bikram 'mental masturbation'= mental ruminations) writing ahead

For me, this teacher training represents many things.

1.Improving my practice.
2.Learning more abou the yoga.
3.Learning more about myself.

It's the third point that is the most important part of the teacher training.
It's certainly something that is at the forefront of my thoughts at the moment.

The last few days in exile have heightened my new feelings of being rather adrift. It's not something I felt when I began this program nor something I was expecting. I thought it was just gonig to be something to do during the spring and summer to occupy the months... I never thought it would get... emotional.

What's weird is that I'm being confronted by the same emotional patterns and situations that I've experienced in the past. (I certainly won't go into specifics... not on this public site... no way! but I will tell you it has to do with relationships) I don't think it is a coincidence that today I found myself in that same situation...

Today we were still a displaced lot. The fire department had still barred us from the Bikram College so we had class at the LAX Westin hotel ballroom. After a miserably cold class taught by a very apologetic Rajashree (Bikram's wife), we sat quietly in savasana. She read us her favorite poem.

Lying, listening quietly in the dark I found myself getting choked up.
It felt like the poem was written specifically to address me (although I'd say most in the room could say the same thing). Maybe it wasn't a coincidence that I got Rajashree's copy after class.


The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dreams
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your
fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand on the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes."

It doesn't interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after a night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.



I guess what I have to keep in mind (fervently keep in mind) is that this program is going to be what I make of it. I've already felt myself get somewhat sidetracked by other concerns. More specifically, I found myself growing preoccupied by expectations of things that have not yet happened, all the while ignoring the pleasant realities (friends, wisedom, love) in front of me. Like the guru says, the self is the most important thing we have...

Since there are no Bikram news today...

Since Bikram Headquarters is temporarily shut down until they get new fire doors, I'll have to write about other things...

Both the rain today and my recent
enounter with something achingly beautiful
from Montreal compelled me to pull something
out of an old journal about a day long ago
in Monteral Canada...


It was spring and I was walking through old Montreal with Sally. The last few days were overcast and the skies that day were grey and full. In sharp contrast to the dark, gloomy canadian weather, we were a bright, beaming thing and entirely in love.

Our relationship was still fresh and new. We had met at medical school a few weeks earlier and had fallen quickly for each other. It happened so effortlessly. The long awkward courtship rituals that seem to plague my relationships prior and past were absent when we met. There was a familiarity and a rapport, the electricity of attraction, and boiling intelligence to our conversations. My first morning waking next to her, I knew that I had just been handed a lottery size chunk of my emotional life. I wasn't scared, in fact, staring into her beautiful face and honest blue eyes made this nihilist believe in everything.

Walking along the cobblestones down the narrow streets, we followed the byzantine maze wherever it lead. While peering into shops (and sometimes people's apartments) she spoke of how this place reminded her of Austria, particularly Salzberg (where she studied during college). I listened with rapt attention. Partly trying to learn every bit about this amazing person but also encouraging her to speak so I wouldn't have to...

Those were strange days for me. I was well past the halfway point in my studies. Most of the lectures were finished and I was actively engaged in my clinical training. During this time when I should have been planning my future residency, I had begun serious considerations about leaving medical school. Whatever passion I had starting out was long exhausted. The work itself wasn't difficult, actually academics was never an issue. It was the tedium. I felt the work was just leeching something important from me. It was during this period, while these dangerous, inchoate thoughts were still coalescing, I met Sally.

On some nameless quiet street the first few drops of rain fell. We stared up like most people do in dumb surprise squinting at the sky (must be behavioral vestige from primitive times). Quickly it began raining in earnest and we found ourselves deluged by sheets of water. Letting out a shrill scream of surprise and amusement Sally grabbed my hand and together we ran back the way we had come.

After what seemed like an eternity of running, her screams evolving into peals of laughter, I realized that this crazy woman would shortly have us swimming back to our hotel room. By sheer luck, I pulled her into the first establishment I spied to my right. Our grasped hands jerked momentarily, she stood dazed at the break of her forward momentum, still enthralled in the spell of her mad but waning reverie she allowed me to lead her inside.

Passing the threshold we were greeted with the smell of strong coffee, fresh pastries, and quiet music. The cafe was large and eclectic but tasteful (like most of Montreal), furnished with sofas and tables strewn about in haphazard but cozy fashion. The place was largely lit by the large poster window facing the flooded street that we had just left. Leaving her at the table by the window, I went to get us something warm to drink.

While pouring cream into our cups I watched Sally watching the rain lash the windows (as well as the occasional stray french canadian who didn't have sense to get out of the rain). I remember trying to drink in every detail. Her large eyes, full lips, and the delicate line of her neck, even the way she wrinkled her face at some rain up her nose, I knew that this was important. I knew that this moment, this memory, would be more valuable than anything I studied in the last three years.

In that brief, private moment, something was unveiled to me about human need. My need. Whatever made life into biology wasn't the same as those things that made it into poetry. That the emptiness, dissatisfaction, ennui, I was experiencing in my life was because of the lack of this...This grace. Scores of weighty medical tomes that made up my past had just been trumped by a single mad dash down a cobblestone street.


I may not have consciously realize the road this insight had placed me, Illumination is often found in the province of retrospect. It wouldn’t be another few months when serious decisions and changes would be made. Really, at that moment it didn't matter. Sally wasn't yet a metaphor or abstract inspiration of my awakening or something altogether cheesy like that. At that moment she was just a beautiful person with whom I was sharing coffee and a slice of life.

As I reached the table, I placed the steaming cups down. She looked up with a happy smile. 'Oh you got muffins too!' she exclaimed. Smiling, I leaned down and kissed her.

I just couldn't help it.


Best Rainy day of my life.

'I hate drama' or 'We have no Bikram Today'

Bikram's large yoga room doesn't have the proper doors that meet the city's fire code. So I've missed both the Thursday afternoon and Both classes on Friday. It's been somewhat depressing. I felt like I was having a very strong experience. It's raining hard today as well which doesn't exactly lighten my disposition...(I also
had an AWFUL class this morning at Studio City as well).

Jesus and Hitler

It's late and I have to study dialogue tonight.
But we met Bikram today. All I have to say is that I found
the guru to be true to everything I've ever heard. He is frankly everything I ever
wanted in a guru...
The Funny thing he said was that his 'old self,' who wanted to be a fighter
pilot was like hitler (a nietzschesque uber-man who wanted to
bomb Pakistan) but after his tremmendous transformation he now
was a 50%-50% Jesus Hitler hybrid.

God do I love that man.