Koh Phangan, Thailand

Sawasdee ka and WELCOME BACK to Thai island paradise where weekends are unnecessary, and hugs last for two minutes (or longer…. whatever feels right).  Apologies for the slight rain delay……. I chose an impromptu cacao ceremony, on the beach, until 4 in the morning instead of writing.  We drank a bunch of cacao (that Yonathan had been stirring for hours), opened our hearts, connected with our higher selves, skinny dipped, overshared, and kumbaya-ed the night away.

Has it been a month already?!  I don’t believe it.  Not because I can’t read a calendar, but because I’ve only febreezed my body twice.  Let’s see……. since we last spoke, I ripped a hole in one of my five underwears, Mousety ran out of gas three times, and I’ve worked my way through my favorite fruit stand (mango, mangosteen, papaya, pineapple, dragon fruit, passionfruit, jackfruit, that bouquet of itty bitty kiwi-looking brown balls that reveal a glistening, translucent-white fruit brain once you peel them?  So tasty.).

I’ve even gotten used to waking up without an alarm, showering above the toilet, buying gasoline in 1L whiskey handles, always being a bit sticky, and never having internet.  (Thank God I weened myself off technology before I left.  The first week of December was my ‘technology twitch’ period, where I’d unconsciously grab for my non-functioning cell phone like a phantom limb, not know what to do with my idle hands, and end up quizzing myself in little arithmetic games on the Calculator.  Sound pathetic?  It was.  But 10/10 necessary because now I suffer from 0/10 technology culture shock and I’m freeeee to be meeeee.)

Nothing seems to matter much anymore.  Can’t find my scooter key?  Hitchhike into town.  Bed’s not long enough?  Sleep diagonally.  Debit card sucked into the ATM?  Borrow money from Carly until my new card comes in the mail.  Ants crawling up my leg during meditation?  Pretend that each ant is holding a baby feather and lightly tickling that feather across my skin.  Aww, THANKS GUYS!  SO soothing.

i would rather the ants tickle me with cheese crackers, but whatchu gonna do?

On the flip side, I can’t imagine I’ll ever get used to 1.) throwing toilet paper in the bin (and not the toilet), and 2.) saying goodbye to people.  I guess it’s a good problem to have – making connections, so deep, in such a short period of time, that your heart breaks a little when they leave cuz you might never see them again.  This is gonna be the year of people coming into my life, however briefly, making an impact, and then leaving just as quickly.  I need a better way of handling it because my first go-around……. I was a HOT FREAKING MESS.

Gokben, Neeve, and Martina all left Samma Karuna within a 5-day period.  On that fifth day, I ate two breakfasts, two lunches, a huge dinner, and all of my feelings.  Gokben was up first.  After a miscommunication with Niki (my friend & volunteer manager who said I couldn’t miss the weekly meeting to see Gokben off at the Thong Sala pier), I started hyperventilating……. and ugly-crying for ten, full minutes.  Niki lit’trally had to bear-hold me for the duration (bear hug / pressure-hold combo).  She stuck with me like a champ, while I soaked both of our t-shirts and raised our collective temperature by 25 degrees.  I was then allowed a proper pier goodbye with my Turkish delight, where the hugging and crying continued into the early afternoon.  As for Neeve, I scootered behind her pickup truck airport taxi, looking at her the whole way (like a creep), thinking about why I loved her and how much I’d miss her first-thing-in-the-morning, full-face smiiiiiiles……. and I almost LOST IT when her taxi turned a corner and slipped out of sight.

gokben & neeve

martina & i are muay thai boxers now

YOGA

A yoga retreat is not my usual, competitive team sport cup of tea; I’ve never been to therapy; and I’ve only used a meditation app, called Headspace, twice (for 10min each) before I promptly forgot the app existed and went about living my life.  At first, I didn’t know how on earth I’d make it through 2-4 hours of various postures and positions.  Sure, I can do Cactus Pose all day long cuz it looks like everyone’s about to break into jazz hands (and I LOVE a good synchronized-dance routine) but King Pigeon?  Peacock?  Holding Downward Dog for an entire episode of Friends as a REST PERIOD?!

Yoga is hard, y’all.  I’ve always shied away because I’m usually the ‘athletic’ one in the back, grunting my way through while Ms. 85lb pregnant GI Jane fit mom is flowing flawlessly in the front.  Don’t mind me!  I’m just struggling to get into Child’s Pose (the ‘easiest & most relaxing pose in all of yoga’) …….and crashing my entire body weight onto my chin as I attempt Hummingbird for the first time.  At least my friend Tif already taught me Crow Pose that one Memorial Day back in Montauk…….

yoga isn’t just for rich people who are bad at tennis – it’s for you and me!

When you start yoga with a body tighter than a snare drum and the knees of a 300-year-old woman, there’s nowhere to go but up.  I’ve tried Hatha, Hatha Vinyasa, Yin, and Kundalini and honestly, my body and mind feel LIGHTER with each class.  All these beautiful mantras and musical pieces and slowing down your breath and tuning into what’s happening on the inside.  I like the challenge and the stillness and Juan’s tight, little European soccer shorts as he forward-bends in front of me.

Who knew yoga, meditation, and spiritual enlightenment are all connected in one, big, beautiful web of relaxed awareness & mindfulness?  Where you find technique(s) that work for you, quiet your compulsory monkey mind, and achieve balance in body and soul.  That’s not to say I’M balanced and one with the universe…. just that it’s possible.  I don’t think I can pass for enlightened when the phrase ‘JACKET POTATO’ keeps popping into my mind during class.  Damn you, Neeve, for telling me that you call baked potatoes JACKET potatoes.  ‘Quick!  Somebody get that potato an evening jacket!  He’s onstage in 20 and it’s FREEZING out!’

I’ve had some downright wacky experiences in these meditation & therapy classes, y’all.  In descending order of ca-razy pants wacky, you’ve got your Osho Nadabrahma humming meditation where you feel your insides vibrating like static electricity, your Osho Dynamic rapid breathing/conscious catharsis meditation that I successfully avoided until my final week because the room sounds like an insane asylum from the outside (AT 7 IN THE MORNING), your Guide through the Seven Chakras meditation that I couldn’t quite get into because the instructor kept repeating the words ‘anus’ and ‘pulsating’, and your Spiritual Awakening seminars and Compassionate Sharing Forums.

Most of the seminars and therapy sessions start with a detailed explanation and general thoughts on this week’s theme of trust, confidence, sensuality (‘If we take the highway that everyone else takes, we end up where everyone else is.’ Or ‘Education teaches us to work hard, not to be happy.’) ……. then, they morph into partner work where you undoubtedly stare into your partner’s soul eyes for an indeterminate amount of time while sharing your innermost fears, vulnerabilities, and insecurities in as safe a space as possible.

For example, the partner exercise might be taking turns completing a few of the following questions/phrases:

1. What is a negative thought I have about myself?  ‘I am…….’
2. I am afraid that sooner or later people will find out that I am……
3. My negative thought about people or the universe in general
4. My MOST negative thought is
5. How often do you have these thoughts and who created them?
6. What styles of protection do you use to keep yourself from being vulnerable?
7. What are you trying to hide with these behaviors?
8. What EMOTIONS are you not allowing yourself to feel?
9. What is the price you are paying for it?

When everyone feels comfortable to let their guard down, be true to themselves and completely surrender to the process, it’s a beautiful thing.  (The Forum takes it a step further by asking people to ACT OUT their emotions in the middle of a group.  Then, the group gets a chance to act as mirrors to what they saw, giving the sharer an opportunity to uncover hidden truths and see their issues from different perspectives.)

MOVING ON to my meditation highlight reel, you’ve got some intense breathing meditations (Sudarshan Kriya and Rebirthing), meditations through DANCE (naturally, ALL my favorites), and some light dabbling in Tantra (just for giggles).  Sudarshan Kriya is a five-stage meditation of heavy breathing (think snot rockets with no snot, in & out, in & out, in & out, in & out, clucking your arms like a chicken in certain sections to exhale the breath even harder & faster) to a recording that sounds like a Buddhist trapped in a submarine.  Once you build up enough energy in your body, through the breathwork, you lay down and IT FEELS LIKE THE EDGES OF YOUR BODY ARE SWIGGLY LINES.  Your skin is vibrating, your lips are clenched in a small ‘o’, your hands are clenched into claws, and YOU CAN FEEL THE ENERGY FLOWING THROUGH YOU AND AROUND YOU, CONNECTING BODY PARTS THAT AREN’T TOUCHING, AND CONNECTING YOU TO THE WORLD.

I ended up passing out; my body couldn’t take that much sensation, so it made the executive decision to shut down.

Next up was Rebirthing with Chandra, where rhythmic breathwork allows you to expand your state of consciousness, let go of limiting beliefs (I’m not good enough, pretty enough, strong enough, smart enough), and self-heal your pain/blockages in order to feel fully alive.  Chandra had me sit up halfway through the meditation to facilitate faster, stronger breath and when she came back 10 minutes later, I heard her mumble, ‘Oh goodness, you can lie back down now….’ because I was FEEEEEEELING ITTTTTTT!!!

T. Rex claws back in action……. rest of the body, rigor mortis. Energy swirling inside my chest, some invisible person pushing energy into my palms with his thumbs and holding my shoulders down, flattening and opening up my chest. I wasn’t crying; I was leaking tears.  Totally exposed.  It felt like I was SHEDDING.  RELEASING negative emotions to make room for positive ones and then wanting to give my love to the woooooooorld.  It was beautiful.  Find a rebirthing class = I’m a fan.

One of my wildest rides was INNER DANCE (first up on my dance meditation hall of fame).  At first, nothing was happening.  I was lying on my mat, listening to ‘brain wave music’ while three facilitators jumped around the room with bells and bowls and jingle jangles and, to be honest, I felt a bit silly.  THEN, one of my favorite songs came on (which was odd because most of the music was African tribal weird swamp music) and I was instantly transported to one of my favorite places with one of my favorite people.

It’s a lot to go into (and I don’t feel comfortable sharing my innermost revelations with you – you haven’t even bought me dinner yet), but basically one session of Inner Dance unlocked something inside of me.  Once I fully surrendered through this intense wormhole of emotion I was going through, my shoulders PIQUED, back arched, chest high up in the air and (I shit you not) I felt someone else’s soul leave their body THROUGH ME.

To wrap up this already-too-long post, we have Biodanza Heart in Motion and Ecstatic Dance.  The Ecstatic Dance craze is sweeping the island – no talking, no shoes, no phones, no judgment.  Just completely sober & consenting adults coming together to express themselves through movement.  You can gallop, sashay, tango, move around like a vampire with bad intentions, ANYthing your body wants to do in an open-air, 2^nd floor yoga studio at sunset.

Imagine 80 of me at a wedding reception, and REAL me is like medium-crazy on the crazy dance move spectrum.  Yeah.  It’s like that.  You’ve got your subtle swayers and your ethereal flow-ers and your hard hitters and your funky chickens.  Then, you’ve got your windmills, jumping beans, possessed, no bones, and offbeat but happy bouncers.  I like to position myself by the hardest hitting gaggle of male funky chickens (roosters?) and vibe off their energy as I switch from entranced robot to reptilian funk master flex back to wiggle wobble and the classic ‘no control of my arms’ mashup of car dealership balloon and zombie attack.

(For those of you I haven’t danced with, to give you a flavor of the flailing monstrosity that is me……. a friend of a friend saw me dancing in a Detroit bar and asked, ‘who’s the girl in the Ditka sweater vest that doesn’t give a FUCK??’  Yeah, that’s me.  Very sexy on the dance floor.  Did I say sexy?  I meant sweaty.)

Standing by the DJ, looking out over the entire Ecstatic Dance crowd, I thought, ‘these are my people’ (and then I imagined each one being raptured into clouds of black-lit smoke, right when they hit their crescendos).

Thank you, Simone from Switzerland, for taking both of my hands, spinning me like a merry-go-round, and cheesing so hard as the background faded away so that all I could see was your shining face.  (I tried something similar with Ellie’s Mom at Ellie’s 30^th birthday party, but I lost my grip and flung Mrs. Dovantzis across the banquet hall.  This time it worked much better.  PS. Mrs. Dovantzis, how’s your hip???)

I think I’ll do ecstatic dance 5 or 8 more times before I leave this island.

Alright, time to go – I need to stretch.  Last night, I met my match with Christian from Milan.  We mirrored each other’s moves for a good thirty minutes right AFTER me and those two girls with bright blue dreads played that cat & mouse dancing towards and away from each other game.  My calves do not like me right now.  But I love you.  And I LOVE that sweater.  Is it new?  Ugh, adorable.