My Spiritual Ego - Morning pages einer Erwachenden

It's 11 in the morning. I'm sitting in the sun on my balcony. My perfect little life. The real life. I sit on a little meditation pillow against the wall. It's cold in my back, I get another blanket to cover my kidneys. If there is something we have plenty of it's pillows and blankets. I'm awake for about four hours now. Early morning as usual. My stomach still feels a little bit off. Subtle notions of sickness still lingering inside my belly, lightheaded and slightly tired I can tell I am not completely on top of my game again.  After a few days of cold I thought I'd be mastering my little visitor quite well. Collecting half the pharmacy of ayurvedic pills, drops and candies, powders and balms, I was sure to be fine within a couple of days. Being in my absolute favorite home space, my real life bubble, waking up to cook my ginger honey lemon instead of my beloved milk coffee is already one of the strongest indicators that something is changing within me. It may...

It's day two. Or three. The second full day. The sun has set and it's dark. 6pm like every day. Instantly it's freezing cold as it is dark. I change from my shirt into layers of sweaters, poncho, two layers of socks and wrap myself in a blanket. I love this place. Dinner I had only half an hour before in the sun at 5.30 like a real German.  Waking up this morning I feel a bit smashed remembering that I had quite some vodka while talking on the phone to my friends. Since the sun sets so early it cannot have been much later than 9 when I went to bed. The early times are good for me even when I'm drinking. Slowly I open my eyes and get up to lighten an incense and make my beloved ginger honey lemon. My absolute favorite that for now removed my even more beloved coffee from the menu as the number one right after waking up. A true rarity I realize chugging it down as if it was the only thing I ever needed. This blend of the fresh sharp ginger with the crisp fruity lime addin...

It’s 8am. I’m outside in the dirty noisy streets, the air is no less polluted than the air in Delhi. Like a net of exhaust fumes hanging over the city. Mucus in my throat being here for less than 24 hours. Hard to understand how people survive this smog where you can’t see your hands in front of your own eyes. I’m standing in front of my bus. Golden Temple tour&travel .  A plate of fried dough and a Samosa  accompanied with a bright red orange sweet sauce I cannot identify  in my hands. A miracle that after all the confusion of the pick up spot I even found my way here. Being woken up   at 6am by the blasting music of a neighboring house, like a techno party, I tremble into this day with a good 10 hours of sleep. Good timing at least after all the stress of traveling here for 24 hours. The last two days taking the best of me. Realizing I have booked the most inconvenient way to get all the way from Varkala down south to the Northern Himalayas, my favorite relaxat...

 The man's curse is my woman's blessing. A is for Asshole. A is for Angel. In the country of contradictions where everything seems to be a curse and blessing at the same time, I find myself eternally confronted with the same topics, throwing me into a turmoil of endless spirals winding me up and down pushing me back and forth, leaving me exhausted, stressed beyond what I can take. Beyond what I want to bear. Physically mentally drained from apparently nothing. Nothing I am much able to express in words anyway until I go meet her for coffee as we did for the past three days. As I saw myself confronted with all the same things before is when she enters the stage, I find myself seen, understood, safe and held. An angel connection literally quite finding myself in the spiral of As that seem to teach me until I will learn. Surrounded by masculine as well as feminine As I seem to face all the same destiny repeatedly with absolutely no exception. One month back in the country I find m...