Discovering an Ancient Future

Mmm, Bali. A tropical, paradise island in Indonesia home to volcanic mountains, coral reefs and green paddies; it is rich with culture, high in spirit and the perfect place to hold a consciousness raising festival. So that's what happened!  We were introduced to The New Earth movement, a consciousness raising initiative run by an eclectic group of individuals that have backgrounds spanning different professions, from tribal leaders to scientists; it brings together ancient wisdom and modern developments to create a conscious future. 

The New Earth, Ancient Futures Festival was the first of its kind; held in the beautiful surroundings of Ubud, Bali. A charismatic and passionate man named Sacha Stone who is one of the main initiators of the movement, hosted the event at his incredible residence. His vision took the form of intricate bamboo structures that were weaved together in different sacred geometric forms. For those that don't know, 'sacred geometry' mimics designs found in nature; the mathematic ratios and proportions of these designs are found in such natural formations as shells, flowers, music, light and the human body to name a few. Ancient cultures have utilised these designs to channel the energy within sacred spaces like the Ancient pyramids of Egypt, medieval cathedrals in Rome or Hindu temples in India. By designing structures in this way it effects the entire dynamic of a room; its circulation, lighting, sound and energy flow. By integrating materials such as copper, it can serve to ground ones energy. The earths surface is naturally charged with electrons that are pushed up into our body to the top of our head causing a potential within our being. As copper is commonly used in devices as an electrical conductor, it can be used to conduct our own electrical energy downwards, through our feet that are in contact with the earth. One structure, the 'bio-arc healing dome' was lined with copper wiring in-between the wooden floorboards climbing all the way up, into the center of the dome. This sacred structure is where we experienced our first workshop of the festival. 

L, R & I <3

The workshop we chose to attend was lead by 'G' , an extraordinary woman and the pioneer of cacao ceremonies to Bali. The cacao plant is traditionally used in many South American rituals as a powerful, heart opening tool. Everyone sat in a circle and in the middle was a jug of thick cacao mixed with wild honey, hot water, cajun pepper and other spices to help activate the natural properties of the cacao. We went round in a circle, sharing our intention for being there and pouring the cacao into small glasses to drink when we felt ready. G lead us through a two hour, meditative journey in which we danced, screamed and released that which did not serve us. Through this process, we paid respect to the sun, water, earth, wind and ether elements that work together to grow and nurture the cacao plant. Some people had profound experiences as the spirit of the cacao worked through them; shaking spastically, bursting into tears or screaming with laughter - it was amazing to see everyone in such a raw state of being. That was my first afternoon of the Ancient Futures healing process. By the end of that day my fear had melted away and my heart felt so expansive; R and I officially committed to our connection and went into the night rolling with the rhythm of the universe.

That evening and for the next 4 to come everyone danced in ecstasy to an eclectic mix of musicians and performers from all over the world; a group of sufi drummers playing the sounds of India, a Gypsie folk band from California playing instruments I've never even seen before, a dystopian breakdancing group, stand up poets and funky DJ's. The best part? Everyone was sober. The festival guidelines stated that drugs and alcohol were unwelcome but looking at the crowd, you'd never have guessed.

Every day of the festival was themed around a different element. The 'water' day was my favourite; in each beautifully decorated venue around the festival there was a different talk, workshop or meditation about this element. Some were more informative; explaining the water shortage in Bali or the global travesty of what is happening to our water sources; did you know, when water moves through 90° angles (e.g. in the pipes that it must go through before it reach our taps), the natural charge/ beneficial potential of the water is reduced. With the addition of heavy metals, fluoride and other toxic substances to the human body, it essentially becomes 'dead water', stripped of all its natural benefits or 'purified' as the cooperations advertise. The messages had a strong impact and the intention was to raise awareness and empower everyone to become protectors of water; social activists for the precious natural resources we so often take for granted. The negative facts were met with positive solutions; for example we were taught that if water moves through a vortex the molecules are re-energised and re-charged, restoring its beneficial potential. So devices exist that can re-charge our water or, given that our bodies are made of 70% water and our mind is our powerhouse, we can simply set intentions before drinking/ using it to maximise its effect on our body (check out Masaru Emoto for more!). A few scientists attended the gathering and although some things went over my head, you could see that the research of these professionals was extensive. "MNI WICONI", we all shouted - 'water is life'.

Every day I began to feel stronger and every day my consciousness began to expand. As everyone's energy began to merge, our collective frequency intensified. One day as everyone was lining up to get their beautiful cooked, locally sourced vegan food, I wondered through the hippie paradise. I dipped my toe into the healing pool that was lined with crystals, feeling so grateful for being in that magical space. Everyone was going through a healing process of some kind, some metamorphosis - releasing the old and welcoming the new, we were all equally vulnerable and equally receptive. There was little room for judgement but lots of room for expression and expansion; in the process many real connections were made. By the end of the festival, unlike most others, my memory was intact and full of knowledge. Through the transformational breathing, soul healing and body work we had tapped into that inner wisdom that everyone has the potential to reach. 

I left our lovely villa and said goodbye to R, L and all the other beautiful souls I had connected with; I looked out the window at the lush green rice paddies of Ubud and the old stone temples strewn with faded flags. It was time now to take what we had learned from the wisdom keepers and inspirational speakers and share it; as part of the movement to consciously create the new earth we want to live on. I am so grateful to Bali, the hosts, organisers, volunteers, guests and everyone in-between who made the experience possible, Aho. 

Chronicles in the clouds 4

My blog posts seem to have fallen short of time; the weeks have blended into one another and somehow the 200 hour yoga teacher training journey that we all embarked upon, has come to an end. Everyone has parted ways and flown the Bhagsu-nest, travelling to mountainous peaks in Nepal, Rajasthani deserts or summer days in Europe. A few of us have stayed on, transitioning slowly, renting little rooms (for 1 pound a night!) and settling into Bhagsu a bit...

Challenge complete!

Shopping in Mcleod

There was a lovely quote by our satvic teacher dressed in white at the closing ceremony: 'we meet to learn and we part to share'. Over the last month we've followed a strict 12 hour schedule for 6 days of the week, wondering in and out of lessons with intermittent breaks to the local market, or a nearby cafe. K. perfectly described our structured lives, living as 'yogabots.' The strings started to loosen for some faster than others, Masala Chai became a gateway for caffeine addictions to resume & the smokers haze in Dharamkot drifted down to Bhagsu. Satvic meals occasionally got replaced by a creamy curry & the consumption of Bhagsu cake became a regular occurrence; I could see the flash of  headlines in bold print 'Beware of Bhagsu Cake, the slow killer'. 'Hello to the King/ Queen' is another indulgent item on the dessert menu that I have recently discovered - the name some sort of a remnant from the British Colonial era.. it consists of an ice cream sunday with hot banana and bhagsu cake, mmm; it definitely left a sweet note at the end of our last group dinner.

I'm sitting in Om Star Cafe, looking through the giant dream catcher made of rope & watching the comings and goings of locals; the truck that's been trying to make

Once in Nature's 'pet' snake

a 360° turn on a narrow road for the last 5 minutes, another yogini doing their last walk down the hill with their backpack and yoga mat. Silent Baba's just ordered his hot cardamon milk with ginger and honey and is lighting his chillum - a distinct wave of charras floating through the room to join the clouds outside. Baba is the local, charismatic 'holy man' of sorts. He's 3 years into a 12 year vow of silence and communicates through gestures, sharp looks and his little notebook that he keeps tucked into his fisherman pants. Wherever you are, Baba will find you - walking bare foot, his one versatile dread swinging back and forth across his shoulders, brandishing his medieval walking stick with menacing dark brown eyes. His presence is loud despite the silence and his poetic messages allow a deep and somewhat confusing insight into the mystery behind the dreads.

An interesting Tibetan lunch :)

A traveler is walking down the stairs now, with a huge guitar on his back and a strawberry hat on his head. I feel like I'm in some sort of fantasy novel, the other day I was walking up the hill to 'Once in Nature' and I passed the woman selling her beeswax products on the rocks. I asked her how her bees were doing and she took me through that mornings routine. The next prehistoric landmark was the rock with the yellow painted sign leading to 'The Vegan Cafe' ... on this sat 2 monks and another man also wearing deep maroon garments. They leaned towards us as we walked by and showed us a picture of an Israeli man. They had been sitting from morning till evening for 2 days, asking everyone who walked by that rock, whether they'd seen the man that had lost his wallet. A man behind me happened to own the hostel near where the Israeli was staying, so they took down his number and thanked him. We wished them good luck, gave a little bow of respect and allowed them to continue their noble quest, having been given another piece of the puzzle.. For a minute, I reflected upon the ridiculousness of how frustrated we get in our daily lives when we have to wait for things, like when a webpage takes an extra minute to buffer and that hot, restless sensation takes over your body. These men had taken 2 days out of their lives for a complete stranger, you've got to admire that selflessness.

The shrine under the rock

The external simplicity of monk-hood has a gentle attraction; it's what I kind of love about Mcleod Ganj, despite its fairly chaotic energy, it is home to so many Tibetan Monks that carry around a contagiously peaceful energy. On our 3rd week into the course, we had a very special experience visiting The living Karmapa monastery, a stunning Tibetan temple and the Hindu temple that our main teacher Mahi had been to growing up.

Blessing the lingam

 I blessed the Shiva lingam with fresh water and leaves, following A's instructions. Listening to a few golden nuggets about how the blue Hindu god Krishna could be differentiated from Shiva because he always carries a flute... The 3 petaled flower that was a part of most statues and images in the temple stood for The 3 Gunas/ energy bodies (Rajas: Active/ awake state, Tamas: sleepy state and Satva: peaceful/ balanced state) that we fluctuate between during the day. It was interesting applying some of our knowledge to our cultural surroundings. We wandered down the rocks to the waterfall and poked our head under the huge rock with a tiny Shiva Shrine hidden beneath it... Back inside the temple I joined the circle of our group that was sitting with the local astrologer who was giving readings. A boy came in with a metal tray and sat down in the centre of the circle; after passing around the little metal cups, we sipped hot Chai and listened to our astrological destiny. Despite the slight lack of authenticity given the presence of the 'automatic astrology programme' on the computer in front of him, it definitely gave me something to ponder.

Tibetan wood-work

The day blossomed along with the deep wooden grooves and turquoise on the outside of the Tibetan temple... we watched how they paint the intricate Mandala's, carve the little wooden statues of Sakyamuni or bash circular metal plaques that become delicate goddess wrists. We crowded into a restaurant and ordered our food (all of which was probably cooked by one man; those at the end of the queue weren't too happy), receiving the nimbu-pani (lime soda) and breathing out a sigh of relief at the touch of a cold glass on a humid day. The Monsoon downpour began, and the dry roads were soon flooded with waves of rainwater, the traffic at a standstill and the horns continuously honking. Mahi took control of the overwhelmed staff behind the counter as we lined up to pay for our food, emphasizing the school-trip vibe :p.

The living monestary

A moment of silence

We dashed through buckets of water and piled into the taxi that wasn't ours - distinguished by my yellow umbrella that was missing for the 100th time. Arriving at the large yellow monastery I felt a wave of tranquility with the the collective energy of all of the monks that surrounded us. I walked past the metal bowls filled with water alongside the yellow Buddhas, half-listening to a jumbled Mahi explanation as to why so much water was used (something about the importance of the water element). I sat on one of the long, low maroon sofas in the room, crossed my legs and closed my eyes. The monotonous chanting of monks reciting their scriptures sending me into a meditative trance. How often do you get to sit in a room listening to layers of ancient sounds, recited by monks rocking back and forth in such a repetitive, familiar motion.
                       

I'm brought out of my past reverie by the sounds of the speakers; mmm how organically music shapes your mood. Bhagsu is as awake & Rajasic as Bhagsu can be; the eggman has delivered the eggs, the milkman milk, the washing has been hung on the multicoloured plastic grooves and the sound of one motorbike engine has drowned out everything else on the street. A month ago, a group of multicultural yogini's met dressed in white, to learn about the beginning of a world of knowledge and now we part with our slightly off-white clothes to share our experiences across the globe.

Quote of the day: 'Impermanence' 

Getting my new tat!

'Impermanence' in Sanskrit

Chronicles in the clouds

En route to
 Dharamshala

As I look ahead of me, the clouds have again enveloped the rippling landscape of mountains that stand smothered by shades of green flora... As it´s mid-monsoon here, the weather fluctuates between downpours and cloudy skies, with the odd patch of clear blue that reveals the grandeur of our surroundings... Just as sunflowers turn to face the sun, the yogis all appear in waves on the balcony, to soak up the rare rays and feel the warmth on our skin (that's getting paler by the day)...
I, along with many other beautiful souls are halfway through our journey to become Yoga Teachers with 'Mahi Power Yoga', far far away in a little town named upper Bhagsu (Dharamshala, India).
I arrived in Delhi alone, feeling that familiar rush of humidity in the airport after a long journey from London via Dubai ... a phrase that has resonated with me throughout this trip is ´You may make plans in India, but in the end, India makes plans for you´... this lack of control was initiated from the beginning. A group of us got in touch with each other and organised via whatssap to meet up at the airport, before our last leg of the journey in a tiny aircraft to Dharamshala ... but alas, the wifi was not working and we had  no way of recognizing our fellow virtual strangers..
I sauntered around the airport for a while and then sat down to sip on a king coconut and hide my bare legs from the wrath of disapproving looks, wishing I had access to the leggings in my backpack that had been shuttled off somewhere else... The expats in the little airport were soon reduced to shaved head Hari Krishna devotees, or a bunch of slightly worn-out yoginis; so it didn't take long to find each other and the excitement began as we shared stories of our lives, journeys and expectations of the course...

The opening ceremony

Our beautiful teachers

After arriving at the airport, the rocky ride to Bhagsu began; we were truly in India... the driver erratically swerved the wheel from left to right as though playing a racing game on Wii for the first time. We had become a part of the jerky flow of organised chaos, along the dusty roads, past fruit stalls, giant plastic blow up toys and mountains adorned with prayer flags. At one point, the traffic was at a complete standstill and the cars were helpless as people were speedily weaving between them... We looked at our phones, the time ticking down until the opening ceremony was due to start. I ceased a moment and jumped out of the car to buy a phone charger from the shop next to us (that broke 2 days later) and returned to our unmoving vehicle; it was the first test of everyone's patience as to how long it would take for the jam to cease.

Yoga in 'Summer Hall'

Each of us (surprisingly) arrived in one piece. We jumped out of the car, were greeted by one of the team and assigned our rooms. Luckily (after a bit of re-organisation) I landed myself in the main building, 'Forest Hill' and despite a few dodgy locks, I feel blessed to have a huge double bed and a mountainous view outside my window, just what I'd imagined... We swiftly dropped our stuff and changed into white clothes to join the ceremony just in time- the delirium of our long journeys kicking in.
The fumes of incense twirled around the 40+ new faces and sound waves of chanting resonated all around us, soon to be drowned out by the heavy monsoon rain. A few strands of red string were tied around each of our wrists as a symbol of protection, our commitment to each other & the upcoming month. We ate dinner that night (blissfully unaware of the ´eat in silence´ signs that were taped on the walls) and formed our initial bonds before welcoming our first glorious sleep.

Yoginis

Drying the tomatoes
on our balcony

Alarms shrilled at 6am and the course began... every day has followed an intense structure consisting of 2 hours of morning yoga (that varies in style between Hatha, Ashtanga and Vinyasa), breakfast, Yogic Philosophy, Anatomy, lunch, ´the art of teaching´, yoga therapy, meditation, dinner, bed.
From 7am - 7pm our minds and bodies are imbued with the ancient knowledge (Vedas) and writings (Upanishads) of the Rishis (ancient architects of knowledge from medicine to music). Our bodies are strengthening as we engage in Mahi's therapeutic yoga classes, become accutely intune with our own (mis)allignment in asanas, follow a strict Sattvic diet (mild, vegetarian, Indian food, adoorned with cumin seeds...) and a healthy sleeping pattern. The meditations each day have been an eclectic mix to say the least; from dancing to jibberish, Osho to visualisation techniques and pranayama to Tai Chi - each has been approached by everyone with an open mind and allowed a lot of emotional release.
One common favourite was the dancing meditation that began with 10 minutes of closed-eye 'body shaking' and lead into 40 minutes of spontaneous dancing to the changing beats. Laughs were echoed as 'I'm a survivor' by Destiny's Child transitioned into a fast paced Hindustani tune (and everyone began screwing in their imaginary lightbulbs...)  The windows soon transformed from transparent to a sweaty opaque with everyone's body heat, we finally lay down in Shavasana (corpse pose), closed the practise and stood blissfully in line for dinner that snaked from the yoga hall to the buffet table.
The emotional release from all the self-work has been manifesting itself physically as the numbers in lessons continue to sporadically decrease, yogis retreating to their rooms after falling victim to another cold or tummy bug... Luckily (touch wood) I have remained healthy so far, trying to stay aware of whatever comes up & steer clear of becoming the next protagonist of a Delhi belly story (just as my stomach rumbles :s)...

Lunchtime escapes to
our local waterfall :)

Mmm I can smell a freshly made Masala Chai brewing near me: the spicy aroma of cinnamon, cardammon and cloves, it's like an Indian Christmas... I'm at ´Once in Nature´, a beautiful cafe perched at the edge of a mountain,  about 10 minutes from our Centre. I've been escaping here on my lunch breaks, sauntering up the cobbled path, past the mountain goats and deadlocked babas smoking charas... to sit in silence & indulge in my current book ´The White Tiger´ by Aravind Adiga: a sinister read appropriately set in India.
The other day as I turned another page, there was a moment where I sat back and laughed... the ink had faded at the beginning of all the pages of the book, forcing my mind to pause and figure out the meaning of the sentences... I laughed at the text in front of me and the sounds of my 'quiet escape': loud conversations in Hindi and nearby drumming, not the most relaxing but appropriate background music nevertheless...

Ah, the limitations of time... that's the end of my lunch break today, time to get the books out again.

Message of the day: 
"Nothing can make you suffer without your silent permission"

The silent riot

Placing a fresh grape in my mouth, I close my eyes and feel the sensation of the cold, smooth skin that glides along the tongue and softly lodges itself into a comfortably warm position next to your inner cheek. As your jaw opens and your back teeth pierce through the outer layer, the juice instantly fills your mouth, sending pleasurable tingles throughout your body. The grape disintegrates fast and sensory adaptation overtakes as you forget about the recent burst of flavour and are left to chew on the slightly unpleasant residue of grape skin in your mouth. 

Goenka :)

In one of his talks, Goenka wisely says that 'pleasure always brings misery'... slightly depressing but true, what goes up must come down, right? It's funny reflecting on that simple process, something that was once a large, hard gape changed form and feeling within a few seconds... "Anitya" - the word for 'impermanence' in Sanskrit. Impermanence is ironically the only permanent thing in life and this is what I, along with many others have been spending the last 10 days trying to grasp. The story of chewing a grape will hopefully not seem quite so irrelevant by the end of this post... 

We've just completed a Vipassana course at the Dhamma Dipa meditation centre in Herefordshire, England. A 10-day silent retreat that consists of 11.5 hours of sitting meditation a day. Up at 4am with the repetitive sound waves of the reverberating gong and bed at 9.30pm as we flowed with the movement of the sun and entered into the deep rabbit hole of our minds. A silent retreat in theory but probably the noisiest 10 days I've ever experienced with the constant mental chatter.
In one evenings discourse, a staggered scene is described in which a mad person interacts with a 'normal person'... the mad one goes from wanting to eat to asking for food to being handed food by the normal person and then thinking the food's a weapon that was about to kill them they grab the food, throw it away and end up hungry, agitated and still mad. Now one would usually not compare themselves to the mad person right? But have you ever sat with yourself, crossed legged, still, with your eyes closed in complete silence and tried 'Anapana' - just being present with your body and monitoring your natural breath without trying to control it. Watching it come in and out and just focusing on the breath, not the thoughts. I urge you to do this for 10 minutes, not even an hour and work out the percentage of that time that you were able to be present and just focus on the breath..
now how much can you suddenly relate to the mad person... the lack of grammar, the constant flow, the scattered thoughts  that flit from this to that with such speed and intensity... and when you think about the fact that your brain is part of your central nervous system that controls your whole body/ your whole existence and your mind can't focus on one task, the breath, that is with you every second, day and night... it makes you question the amount of control (and sanity) you really have.

I missed the banana
and chopped the top of one of my thumbs off!! 

Vipassana was the technique that Siddhārtha Gautama, Shakyamuni (also known as Buddha) used to reach enlightenment - when one hears that it's associated with Buddha/ Buddhism it's like a red flag to a bull... it suddenly becomes a sectarian practise, something religious that freaks people out as it only applies to a percentage of people. However, this is a technique that has no religious affiliation. It consists of only 3 universal laws hence they apply to everyone. 1) Sila: Morality 2): sama-Samadhi: Mastery over the mind and 3) Pana: Wisdom. During a 10 day course living as monks, we were able to follow these 3 precepts so scrupulously in a tightly controlled environment. 'Sila' was followed by observing the 5 rules: no stealing, lying, intoxication, killing or sexual misconduct. This allowed one to develop 'Samadhi' (mastery over the mind) by initially practising Anapana that I described earlier, focusing on the natural breath and the small space between your nostrils and your upper lip, allowing your mind to become sharper and sharper in its focus before actual Vipassana meditation starts. Vipassana involves scanning your body from top to bottom and bottom to top, observing all kinds of sensations that occur like itching, aching, tingling or vibrating. You soon learn that the habit patterns of the mind can all be assigned to either craving or aversion. If you feel something you like and you want more of it = craving. This happens every day in life with food, people, activities, drugs, sounds etc.. the list is endless. Or you feel something you don't like so you try to get rid of it = aversion, again a daily occurance.
So the practise of vipassana is to remain 'equanimous': just notice and observe, like a scientist would without craving or running from any of it... easy to write but ridiculously hard to practise. On top of trying to remain equanimous to just the sensations you've got your monkey mind jumping around all over the place taking you to different people and countries and universes and multiverses to the point where you're clutching your head, ready to check in to an asylum. Not having your voice or entertainment or another person to be able to ground you, leaves one helpless and forces you to develop Samahdi... with every moment of being completely equanimous, your sankara's begin to release themselves. Sankaras can be described as the conditioned response to objects in your life that are basically the roots of your misery, they're so ingrained into your being that they cause many other patterns in life. We recognise these many patterns every day as problems but aren't able to really get that far below the surface. With this technique you begin to make an incision into your mind by breaking it's habit and instead of allowing it to create more sankara's and build on to its roots, it has no choice but to release the store that it already contains. During brief moments of equanimity, the Sankara's slowly began to rise and disintegrate, manifesting into all kinds of sensations like the hard outer layer of the grape before slowly breaking down to become the residue of grape skin ... and the cycle continues. 

How I felt after the first day..

So I thought, before this course, that like other yoga/ meditation retreats that I'd been to, this was going to be a relaxing break of no connection to the outside world (as we had to drop all forms of entertainment at the door), yummy vegetarian food and lovely people. Uhh. After day one, I realised this expectation was far from what we were going to be experiencing... and the sound of the snores in the silent hall coming from the girl next to me didn't serve to inspire..

It was 10 days of intense work, a surgical procedure into the mind that released a lot of the shit, resulting in a lot of unpleasant thoughts and feelings. There wasn't one day that I didn't have a moment of wanting to leave. Goenka, the amazing man that guides you through the whole process, admitted that he too packed his bags on the second day of his first course and was convinced to stay by one of the assistant teachers at the time... His story's pretty inspirational actually, definitely worth sharing:
To start, Vipassana has been around long before Buddha spread it.  After it was spread like any other teaching, individuals started to adapt it to their liking and it became lost, everywhere except Burma where Buddha had known that it would be preserved in its original form - he'd predicted that this would then be re-discovered and spread again 2500 years after his death...
So, Goenka was a rich, successful Indian business man and as a result of his stressful life he began suffering from terrible migraines that no doctor from Burma to Switzerland could cure, besides giving him a dose of morphine when the pain got unbearable... Not being a sustainable alternative to a cure and only adding a destructive addiction to his life, Goenka remained open to alternatives and one day was advised by his friend to take a Vipassana course... being the skeptic that he was he refused for a while as he didn't understand how it would bode well with his current religious practise or cure his migraine. Long story short, he finally agreed to go after being told it wouldn't interfere with any current practise and would teach him the art of living, curing his migraine as a bonus in the process... With patience and persistence he advanced on the path of Vipassana and stepped onto the wheel of Dharma (behaving in accord with the laws of nature) as opposed to the previous wheel of misery that he was once on. Once you live purely by the law of Dharma, it begins to reward you too - so he advanced and began to experience less misery and more liberation by taking his practise seriously. He was then sent away from Burma by his teacher when the time had struck in 1969 (2500 years exactly after Buddha had died) to go and spread the technique. Again, being the skeptic he was, he didn't see how he was supposed to complete this task. But after teaching his first course in India, the word spread and before long hundreds of people from all walks of life were practising Vipassana and walking the path of Dharma. He began to open centres up all over the world and today they're accessible to everyone, on a donation basis and taught via audio and video recordings from Goenka in 1991. 
Every evening we would all sit in the mediation hall for one of his discourses, it was like movie night! Listening to his funny jokes and stories that all had some underlying lesson here or there, he'd connect the dots for us by describing what we were going through and offering us guidance.
His voice became oh so familiar, I can hear it now... At the beginning of the day you'd close your eyes and hear his chanting over the speakers. Initially, I found much of it quite unpleasant and even funny. He had one long cow-sounding moooo sound that was completely off pitch, on the first day I sat with an aching back and excruciatingly painful legs with nothing but aversion, listening to this annoying noise in such irritation, wondering why on earth we had to be there. That was the beginning of the unpleasant process that I later grew to deeply understand and appreciate, he wasn't here to take us through a sweet sounding journey, he was teaching us to deal with unpleasant reality and reach for the sweet sound within... by the tenth day that sound brought the biggest smile to my face. 

The classic wheel of dharma

It was great being able to appreciate details that wouldn't normally phase you at all... every day as the 4am gong went, I'd freshen up and go for a walk in the forest at dawn. I'd listen to the layers of bird song while watching the little white tails of bunnies hopping through the trees and seeing the clumps of wild mushrooms hidden by the long grass, each blade held its own suspended drop of dew. One afternoon, I lay down in the grass and turned my head to the side, at eye level with the thousands of daisies that I zoomed in on individually, appreciating their beauty and watching the bees sucking out pollen from the wild flowers inbetween - reaping such satisfaction as the clouds parted and everyone lay down in silence to feel the sensation of the sun warming our skin. That evening I looked above the tree infront of the centre and watched tiny particles of dandelions dancing in the wind - this is what fairies were :) fantasy can all be witnessed...  

On the tenth day - 'metta', you learn to become extrovert again and integrate back into interacting with others by talking to the people you've created such an extraordinary, silent relationship with. Men and women are separated from the beginning to avoid distraction, so a bunch of hysterically excited women suddenly began to speak all at once... it was overhwelming in every way, what do you even begin to talk about? We all connected, breaking our previous conceptions of what everyone was like in silence - when we sat down to meditate again I could feel my heart almost leaping out of my chest with excitement... The weather could sense the change as well and as we all closed our eyes it began storming outside the room. We could feel the dramatic pulsing of thunder and rain and then above it all the shrill voice of the tall bleach blonde haired woman that had earlier been talking to me about creating a tornado in the next storm. She was running around outside singing her heart out. With all of our eyes still closed we witnessed the sounds of the drama, the pattering of the assistant teachers feet as she ran outside to explain the inappropriateness of her actions - more pattering of feet as more teachers went out to the scene. The argument escalated and we heard 'IGNORANCE, IGNORANCE' as she screamed with the energy of the storm at our teacher. Running around whacking the little trees in the garden, the previous serenity of the last 10 days seemed so lost and we curiously left the meditation hall at the end of the session where she was no where to be seen... The last day was dramatic in every way and it was discovered that many precepts had been broken by a naughty few who were either sneaking off to the fields for a midnight shag or walking to the 'nearest' pub for a pint...

So at the beginning of the post I began with what my present moment was, eating a grape. Something that is no longer as I look over at my bowl that now only contains a naked stem that was once abundant with lush greenery... Anitya. V asked me on the journey home how much of the time I reckoned I spent actually meditating during the 11.5 hours a day... I thought about it and replied 'about 20%' ... 20% of true presence out of 100... What a sad realisation, that one spends most of their life out of body, thinking about the past and the future. But I guess once you're aware of it and have been given the technique to change it, things can only go up ... if you stick to it that is.. Still wearing my sober halo and having completed the challenge of a lifetime, I've had a taste of Dharma and began developing the third law that I hadn't discussed, Pana/ wisdom, that can only come from experience. I thank Goenka truly and hope that everyone gives this a trial as it's so beneficial and gives you a glimpse of the terrifyingly expansive truth within. Paatiently and aardently I await to see how this seed will grow into a tree that will one day serve many others.  

Clip of the day: Goenka's speech at the UN 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xy9PugTy15M

I watch the forest breathe

The land of yogis and trees. I look back on my childhood memories at this enchanted pocket of the world – located in central Sri Lanka, Ulpotha is rich with the purest energy emanating from the fresh faces of guests to the organically grown food to the wild surrounding fauna. The trees range from bamboo to banyan, the tops of some lie submerged in the fresh water tank; during dry season, the water marks can be seen striped across the middle of the ancient rocks that line the perimeter of the water. Jumping off the steps, I glide into the earthy water and lie on my back looking up at the grand mountains and taking a moment to reflect. I imagine this scene millions of years ago, untouched, exactly the same - a long necked dinosaur leaning it’s head into the water for a drink would top it off perfectly.

I’ve been going since I was a buba myself, once upon a time groups of us were rampaging through the ancient forest playing cops and robbers, hiding behind the giant roots of trees or the lush green grass of the rice paddies – careful not to disturb the adults who we could always hear laughing or chanting, the sound of a gong now and then, reverberating across the grounds. It was our magical playground by day and by night it all disappeared with no electricity or lights; instead, oil lamps hang scattered inside the mud huts or along the pathways. It was so raw and wild that we’d always be careful to stomp our feet loudly for snakes and creepy crawlies, it wasn’t until 10 years later that I actually witnessed one!

We never appreciated it enough as children, but now as we live such chaotic lives full of all sorts of stressors, Ulpotha is the perfect place to wind down and press pause for a little while. With no sense of time you’re able to truly slow your breath down: in yoga classes, during an Ayurvedic healing, a natural shower or a gentle bike ride through the local village. Everything’s very spread out in Ulpotha, allowing you to be social yet have your space at the same time, it doesn’t take too long to get your bearings but ‘the Cade hut’ is definitely one to remember, as it’s always open for a Tambili (King coconut) or a yummy snack.

It’s rare to have time to fully relax these days and a shame that it often takes a drastic change in environment to do so – but with options like Ulpotha readily available, why wouldn’t you jump at the opportunity? Sri Lanka in itself is a gem, with its strong Buddhist influence, scenic land and loving people (despite their heavy history of conflict). I’ve never met someone who hasn’t shared the same thoughts and feelings as I.

We’re usually lucky enough to go to Ulpotha for New Year and while it’s always pretty similar, there’s something special you take away each time you leave. The same faces tend to appear and new ones are always welcomed. This year was the driest new year so far, the water in the tank was so low, we waded through the middle of the lake feeling the melted chocolate-like mud squelch and squirt through our toes, the wading soon turned into a therapeutic mud bath as we lathered it all over our bodies and returned to land to bake on the bank in the afternoon sun.

By night, it comes to life, friends, guests, local villagers and staff all joined together to dance on the smooth rocks to the rhythmic beats of Sri Lankan drummers, while the girl’s jangled and spun in their beautiful saris. Come 8am the local shaman had arrived to bless the land for another year by boiling the milk for the milk-rice (a local treat) as we patiently stood and observed the ritual.

Although time doesn’t exist in Ulpotha, it always ends too fast. But you come away inspired by the culture and energy that you’ve gained. One day I hope to take my children there, to run along the dusty paths, feel the magical energy and watch the forest breathe.