Ten Days

Ten days.

In ten days my sandals will come off, and my first footfall out of the house won't be on Guruji's doorstep. In ten days Mysore will heat up to 85*, and won't drop below 65*, just as the Groundhog plays Mother Nature and gambles on an early spring. In ten days I will not rise at 3am and walk through the bats' breakfast obstacle course to get to yoga. I will not have a coconut waiting for me after practice. I will not be paying for my after-yoga snack with rupees. In ten days I will not be thinking about the next ten days.

I will be home.

January has been packed. At the first led class of the new year, I was up front hearing that the count topped 100 and more poeple were still coming in. Both bathrooms were packed on both levels, as was the main foyer. Last week they handed out time-cards to let us know(and them) what our start time was. The numbers only went to 208. After that, students need to try Saraswathi or Sharath's classes, or find somewhere else. Tough. Today I met another new-to-town yogi from Australia. Another first-timer. At conference last Sunday, Guruji said that 60% of students right now are new. This is good, he says. On teaching, he says students should not teach what they don't know. Many students want to be teachers, before they are even students. Study. Study, then go teach with blessing. Go teach it right. OK, I'm paraphrasing, and I didn't hear everything clearly, but that is the basic idea. So that's where we are at. Ten days left to process our lives, plan for our future, live in the current and try to survive ourselves enough to see this thing through. I want to say that this is the glorious end to a successful adventure, but this isn't a comic book. For one thing, I'd have better tights, and a cape. But we are struggling to find a balance with being open to experience and people, and needing to shut down, pack up and not feel loss. The good thing about our timing is that we got set up at the shala and Mysore before the crowds. Many are turned away each day to make other arrangements for practice, homes, and living supplies. We are so greatful still for all the generousities given to us along the way. We also balance how much of ourselves we are able to give. There is no end to need and poverty here, and it can be overwhelming. We decided early on that we would try to not let it bother us, that we would give a bit when we can, and make greater attempts as we near our departure date. So our visits to neighborhood kids has increased. Yarrow gives food daily to a girl her age who takes care of her toddler brother. It is good for her to have this experience, and have it be a positive interaction instead of just another street-begging moment. Today we also took a cat to the vet. That is the blur in photo #2. She lives at a nearby bakery living on cake. She developed an abcess so an vet appointment was made. We spent the day with the calico kitten, or "becu" and will give it back with medicines and instructions, with follow-ups to be planned. There are several who will help take care of this, but it feels weird to start this process and leave town. This is difficult because I really want to help, but it's hard to be so open and expend energy when I question If I even have enough for myself. The other side is that there are fewer cats in India, so I haven't been around them and that is hard for me. Dogs, yes. Everywhere dogs. Cats? Skittish and hidden. In ten days I will be able to spend time with cats. I will wear converse. I will drink Batdorf Coffee. (OH, GOD YES!!!) In ten days I will be in my country of origin; my experiences, my shadows, my triumphs, my bon mots- but part of me will not be coming back. Part of me will stay right here, wrapped in the reality-turned-fantasy. Just as it took time to integrate here, I anticipate a re-integration period. The difference is that we only had to survive and seek out experiences, decide on where to have lunch or which Sutra classes to take. When I get back, I feel like I need to hit the ground running. Vivian has classes starting up the next week, I have some theatre stuff, and we have the massive ordeal of our lives we left behind and all the question marks to be answered. As much as I'd like to believe that everything will be ok, I've learned that that simply isn't so. I've been told by rickshaw drivers that they know where the place is and that the meter is broken, when both are false. I've also been told that I would have work waiting for me when I return, and I'm once again 'less than employed.' I'm not being told much, so I'm not sure what all is going on, and I don't think that I will ever be told the truth. I got a raise, but lost all seniority and won't be scheduled. I just know that in ten days I will not bask in my experiences but rewrite my resume and remind myself that this was always a possibility with this lifestyle. I try to be open with myself and others and go after the things that inspire me, hopefully at no one's expense, but I feel like I'm stepping on toes trying to do right for myself and family. All I want is to do what I love, do it well, and share it with others until they are passionate about it too. This is hard to do. For me right now this obviously requires several jobs and lots of caffeine. The coffee I can get anywhere, but the work is different. I AM looking forward to sinking myself into work, I just wasn't expecting to start over somewhere else. And now I feel that I've got ten days to figure it out. And say goodbye to a Nation.

In ten days I will be surrounded by English. In ten days I will unpack tomorrows memories. In ten days I will be looking at the want ads on my living room floor.

In ten days I will be home.

*** aeryk ***