Crossing Oceans

B and I keeping warm

I opened my eyes this morning and didn't have to think twice to realize I was back in the tropics, it's growing on me. Monkeys instead of foxes, sweat instead of shivers, dresses instead of jumpers and rice instead of bread. I'm back in Asia! Stepping out the plane doors the familiar sticky heat blew over us, and the layers of clothes that I'd been wearing was slowly minimized. My eyes couldn't focus on one position due to sleep deprivation, climactic shock and a crazy week that involved a few brain numbing activities. I dragged my luggage along behind me, with no sense of self-conciousness after a 15 hour flight, only to hear my name called by a recognizable voice - 'shit.' I thought.  I turned around to a beaming familiar face, and her brother - She'd been sitting 2 seats behind me for 7 hours, and we hadn't seen each other once. My immediate response was 'what the fuck', that came out slightly louder than expected, only to be received by dirty looks from all the conservative Muslim women in burqas that surrounded us. To my relief, we all looked as bedraggled as each other, and it only served for more delirious laughter. The 14 hour flight was not something I'd wish to repeat, non-stop crying (by both myself and the 2 babies sitting in front of me), no sleep, delays, a hectic 10 minute transfer period, food that tasted like it'd come out of a clinical trial, uncomfortable seats and never mastering the right temperature.. but I'm here, safe and sound (much to the surprise of my entire extended family that for some reason, had their doubts..)

See the double halo?

Where to start, can I first congratulate everyone for 'surviving' the apocalypse!  I was so intent on feeling some sort of change occur at 11.11 on 21/12/12 but when I looked at the clock it was already 13 past - oh well. I was browsing Facebook yesterday though and on a group that I'm a part of called 'Catalysing Change' there was a post that explained what causes the 'halo around the moon'; apparently it's "caused by pencil-shaped ice crystals in cirrus clouds that bend moonlight. On Dec. 21st, Harald Edens of Magdalena, New Mexico, witnessed a double halo as seen in this photo. The inner 9-degree halo is caused by ice crystals in the shape of pyramids" - If you don't know the significance of pyramids, please do a bit of research, It's fascinating. But my point is, though I didn't see any profound physical change, at least someone did?

Grooving with my favourite boy
in the beer garden

The last week has been the craziest of my life. It was a familiar feeling that my grade had experienced post-graduation. Having to see each other as much as possible, attend everything that was going on and leave no time to breathe for 'FOMO' (fear of missing out) - only to suffer the consequences later. I remember having a conversation with my mum about this ages ago, because after about a week of the craziness, when it has died down slightly and your body has a minute to recuperate, the suffering begins. Why that happens is common sense, but what I found difficult to understand, was how your body can keep pushing when you know there should be a limit. In spiritual terms we call it 'ancestral energy' - it's like the core storage space that draws energy from 'our ancients' if you will for when we really need it, during illness or dire situations etc.. not when our body's can't handle too many substances or late nights out, which is where it can be wasted. Woops, the consequences aren't proving to be too fun.

Typical.

To summarize a week in a sentence: Party-crashing for free drinks by the Thames, Civilized dinners by candlelight in caves being served red wine and cheese, regressing to our youth with drunken nights on southbank in playgrounds, arcades and Japanese restaurants,  shivering on Hampstead heath watching psychedelic vibrating trees and London's reflection on an invisible lake, grooving to tunes in the beer garden in winter wonderland, farewell lunches with friends and family and raving in ecstasy under tube stations to deep dub with an eclectic mix of all my closest friends. It's been a sleepless adventure that I wouldn't give back for the world - they say living with someone makes or breaks your friendship, and M. - as best friends since day zero, I reckon we can say we've achieved success.. So the alarm went off 2 hours after bedtime and after a few kicks to turn it off, I scrambled the last of my things together, leaving a trail behind me of course, to jump into the taxi and head to Heathrow airport terminal 4. 'Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming' could be heard softly on the radio as I nodded off, only to be woken (what felt like) a minute later when we'd arrived. The recent loss of my debit card meant I had to actually pay attention to where my money was and what I was spending, so I bought the usual duty-free chocolates for the family, a couple of locks for my bag, and a coffee to keep my brain mildly active, counting the pennies as I went. The water-works soon started and I'd switched from the normal'ish looking teenager, to an exasperated mess.. that went on for longer than I would've liked..

Love for J in Trafalgar square

I gazed out of the small oval airoplane window that was cold from the high altitude.. The stars above doha twinkled in scattered clumps and before my eyes closed again, I felt like one of them. Stars appear on clear dark nights and leave when the sun comes up, always temporary but always there. The instability of my life at the moment feels immense in both a good and bad sense - the on-flight crew definitely picked up on it as my blanket got wetter and wetter with tear stains - but tonight wasn't about keeping up appearances as I slunk back to sleep in DLD trackies and a comfy hoodie - the best way to fly. I only managed to watch one movie 'L'amour dure trois ans' (love only lasts 3 years) that felt quite appropriate given that nothing seems to stay the same for long, but it's a good one to watch - not your typical Hollywood romcom.

The end of the world party <3

The stars faded and Kuala Lumpur showed it's face in the light of the dawn - driving along the highway chatting to our sweet taxi driver felt surreal, returning to the familiar after having experienced 6 months of different is an odd sensation. I was sat down in McDonald s before arriving home, for a cup of coffee with Z. our taxi man, because apparently 'my eyes had to be slightly more open when I greeted the family'. My heart rate increased as the caffeine rush kicked in, and we zoomed past the twin towers, school, our local roti cannai stall, up the hill, into the rainforest and through the gates to our house, to be greeted by an emotional family of three - how I'd missed them. The next few hours are a little bit of a blur, I know it involved swimming, a few more coffees, a light lunch and a social dinner in a scrambled order, and then my head hit the pillow, and all I saw was stars, until a very loud "STOCKING TIME" could be heard, making it's way into my room. My 13 year old brother dragged everyone into bed, as we opened our stockings in delirium and fed off his contagious excitement. My stocking mainly consisted of bits and bobs for travelling, lots of yummy chocolates and a bit of make-up -- Santa, you did me well. After a light hearted christmas jam (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H8NeUGA0An0) I got on the Irish coffee's while dad began scrambling eggs to be served with buttered toast and smoked salmon - a Chrimbo must. Handel played in the background and the Christmas spirit continued throughout the day as we opened presents, socialized with friends over a big Christmas turkey and ham and gorged with minced pies and christmas pudding that were drowned in brandy butter, clotted cream and haagen daz ice cream... that will last for the next week. 

Family.

Family skype sessions on both side commenced as dusk approached, and we ran back and forth between the two computers to send our love to kin across the universe. The day wound down with a session by our pool, breathing in the KL night, and a few other things, with old friends and music - suddenly it didn't feel so strange any more  a friend described the sensation as 'having the pause button switched to play after 6 months of living different lives'. I miss London, the people and the fun, but KL has a few adventures of it's own that we're all ready to take on - expectamus in antecessum. 

Recipe of the day: Devils on horseback (our christmas classic)

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/mar/27/nigel-slater-devils-horseback-classic

Stepping stones

Early autumn

After a tragic event has occurred the phrase 'moving on' is tossed around a lot, stepping onto the next stone despite how unpredictably wobbly it is -- but how long is that process supposed to take? What is the time bracket one's given before things start to get slightly easier? I've always found, with regards to the 'big black spots' (the darker events in your life that made a significant impact on your reality today), normality and growth only comes from acceptance, and acceptance is spurred on by talking about what happened. Something a friend said to me a few years ago that I'll always remember for its concise honesty - "everyone has shit going on, and everyone thinks their shit is the worst". And isn't that true? Of course relativism plays a role, and we only really have our lives to compare our 'shit' to - but in the grander scheme of things, we're probably a lot better off than many others.

Eva in the park - I love the innocence of kids

By getting out of your own head, where your mind has the power to turn the bat of a butterflies wing into a hurricane, you're able to 'move on' - in relation to the tragic experience I'm talking about, this means talking about my beloved uncle, his death and his life that many people seem to leave out. This applies to all tragedies, why hang onto the final few seconds of darkness, when the long and prosperous life that lead up to it serves for far more topics of conversation.

--
What I find fairly dangerous is that comforting feeling of dwelling in your own pool of grief, the 'poor-me' scenario that you need to pull yourself out of, especially when there are others more deeply affected than you - time to stop being selfish. It's actually comforting sharing the hurt with others.

I'm sitting on beanbags underneath my windowsill - it's beautiful today. I'm learning about London, I always had the impression that leading up to winter everything would become grey, wet and miserable. But the sun still shines! The temperature drops and the parks are no longer full of hundreds of people in their bikini's, having picnics or playing rounders and footie - but instead a more gentle approach to life begins, warm coats and flushed cheeks, babies wrapped up in blankets and the appreciation of a warm bed. Given, I am slightly afraid of turning into an ice-cube come Christmas but we'll deal with that when we get there. 

The phantom house

My routine's up and down now but my regular dabble in yoga maintains a level of stability amongst the chaos. Interestingly a lot of people I know are starting to find meditation, astro-projection and all those far-out concepts that don't get enough credit. I was standing at the train-station the other day thinking about that stability. Yoga to me, was essentially a pause - an escape from the buzz of reality to clear your head and get in touch with yourself free of distractions. Now I'm learning the importance of applying your escape to your reality. In meditation you're taught to just heighten your awareness, your senses - you hear what's around you, feel your surroundings, taste the presence and smell the now. But that should always happen - it's so easy to slip into your own zone when walking down the street, stuck in your thoughts rather than understanding what's happening everywhere at that moment. The lights of the train shone through the darkness and I looked up to see a white house peeping above the stone archway that framed the approaching train. The way the sun hit the white wall almost turned it into a phantom house - momentary awareness. 

I know it's cliché, but at least it's authentic?
Devon 2012

After having spoken to a lot of my friends, I've found lots of people doubt their ability to meditate or focus, so without sounding patronizing can I just say it's ok to find it difficult to hold that focus no matter how long you have done it for. When I close my eyes I first have to get over the 'thought barrier'. Under this invisible line are a million thoughts ramming into each other, 'breakfast this morning, booking flights, oyster cards, money, work, food' the list goes on. But above the buzz it's more of a clear white haze that doesn't require concentration
. 

Enough of the mystical - Saturday's beginning and I still have no sense of time. When you leave 'school-mode' and enter 'work-mode' weekends lose their meaning. A 14 hour shift on a Friday's one to dread, and a Monday's a walk in the park. Today's topsy turvy, and to get to the end you've just got to take the step and try not to get wet. 

Recipe of the day: Autumn cherry samosas (I was surprised when I saw this recipe too.. but so worth it)
http://www.fnfoods.co.uk/recipes/recipe-cherry-samosas.html