See you on the other Side

 

It's been three nights it's seemed to be hard to fall asleep for me. Full Moon. It could be part of it. Or all my thoughts about what to do with my life, if I'm happy or not, or the weather or what I eat or the late coffee I had or none of the above. Always we're trying to find reasons when really it doesn't matter at all for the end result what has caused it. Fact is I'm not sleeping. For hours I'm lying awake in my bed listening to the surrounding sounds, the noises of evening Rishikesh turning into night after I've switched off my phone at 9pm after real estate managing everyone who is still looking for a home around here. I should get commission for it by now. Yes 9. It's 9 only. Even 10 is early for people my age to go to sleep or really anyone at all. Older, younger, anyone beyond the age of Kindergarten probably sleeps later than that and yet since I've arrived back to Rishikesh this seemed to be the time when my eyelids became heavy and my mind started wandering off into dream land.

Not anymore so in the last days. Nights. The nights become late while I lie on my Indian mattress (Indian because it has the same sturdiness and hardness of the ground that it's standing on and the same rigidity of communication) twisting and turning, then lying again in total stillness with my injured leg that I've patched up with some more pain relieving plasters before lying down. I'm calm, I'm quiet as the outside sounds slowly fade away into the same quietness. I cannot hear a single sound anymore. Stillness. Utter and complete silence. Unique and unusual silence for India. And even Rishikesh. I can only imagine a time after midnight. So what?! I'm telling myself. If my body has decided it doesn't need the rest now or my mind has decided it's not ready then so be it.

My body won't be the reason as I'm ever returning from the evening body opening for two weeks now. Subtle thoughts going in circles through my mind. Thoughts about the last class. I feel discomfort in my heart and my bones. I don't like the feeling. A feeling of irritation and disagreement. When facing the wall feeling a panic arising in me. It's a reality. A panic that tells me not to lean back but he's eager to make me. I switch my phone back on to send a message to my teacher to explain myself or rather to share my side about what happened in class although I can logically anticipate what his answer will be as I've studied my 'Indian mentality' closely enough for the last years. No surprises there usually. It's not like a yogi who has been trained in a certain way in his yogi school will understand or care about my perspective as how he's learned is the best way to know and I've learned often enough how far it goes with the 'open mindedness' or understanding of an outside perspective or any other perspective in general that is not familiar to the person in question.

And so also here it came as no shock or surprise when I receive his answer in the morning after my yoga class with teacher number two from the same school. It may not have come as a surprise and yet my reaction is also no surprise as it remains the same throughout my same triggering points. My sensitive spots. No difference as with anyone else so also with a teacher, the yogis. I'm not being heard, I'm not being seen, I'm not being understood. This is nothing personal, he is teaching however he prefers and if my mind is not ready for that then I need to decide if I wanna come to his classes or not. I should use my wisdom for that. 

Yes exactly my wisdom that is widely misunderstood by any Indian person yogi or not who insists on staying on his fixed and singular known mindset about what he's learned, totally uninterested in the other person's opinion. Totally ignorant to the fact that there is another separate, individual human being on the other side with all the range of human feelings and emotions, learnings, experiences and knowledge, sharing their point of view and their genuine interest in wanting to know why the respective method is the one and the only that he is sticking to teach, to use, to practice as the right way. Well. It doesn't matter because there is no reasoning here. Feedback is not appreciated. My personal opinion for that particular situation is used an occasion to suggest that I may not know myself well enough or that his teachings are 'too hard' for me, totally unidentifying me as a person, speaking to me as if he had seen me for the first time in his class, not knowing who I am or what I'm capable of only to defend his point. Also same as always as I've learned it here in this country for years. It doesn't matter when I ask my WHY or who I am because it is of no value and it's being ignored for the sake of it. It's not heard or understood or validated. I am not being heard or seen or understood. Because that is the whole point. You do not see me but you could. I did not enter your class just yesterday but a year ago. You know my skills, you know my progress, you know my capacities and you could know that I know myself well. And yet you don't because you refuse. You refuse to acknowledge your students for their individuality, for what they are and blindly teach, everyone the same way, for that's the way you learned and your mind is closed and your horizon limited to that only one method. Yes you did help me. Yes you were gentle. Yes you did let me go at some point. But no you did not want to take into consideration my feedback and my side of the story or that there are different ways of going about things that not necessarily have to do with me not being prepared for your 'hard class' but with me having another view on things. That's my wisdom. My open mind.

I don't fail to see that I learn a lot from your method that’s why I come to you in the first place and yet particular isolated movements may be not for me and can hurt me the same way also on a personal level when you fail to see the human behind the student and the individual behind the class and the uniqueness in every body and every mind. When you fail to acknowledge that there might be different ways and that there might be more things also for you to learn. That there may be perspectives, things and ideas that would also be of interest for you. As for me as for everyone. As we never stop learning, changing, evolving in our matrix, in who we become. And yet you restrict yourself from that when you talk about wisdom. Using my wisdom. This is what I tried to do. Share my wisdom that is different from yours with you. But you refused. You only want your 'wisdom' to be acknowledged by modelling mine into that frame of yours. To decide to come to class if I am 'mentally' prepared. I am sure I am not when you are of the conviction that this is my flaw. Because how can I be mentally prepared for a teacher who is not mentally prepared for me?

And either way it doesn't make a difference because the difference is I care and I have values and for me it is personal and on the other side it is not personal and there is no need to care how I feel about it. So I am left with my own sensitivity and that is my issue. 

And in that way my ever reoccurring incidences return, the Indian mentality mirror, revitalized back into my life as it had to happen. It had to happen just as I thought the last days when I felt like I didn't get back to my writing about Indian mentality. Because exactly there was no reminder. And sure as hell the universe has been very active the last days again as it is reliably functioning all the time here in Rishikesh, serving me everything on a silver platter that I've been sending out.

And so I return from my class the next morning with my other teacher, the lotus where my injury is being taking into consideration without making me feel like I am in the wrong place because of it or suggesting that I am objecting or refusing to take the class seriously or as if me doing some things in some way meant I was not mentally prepared or I would not know how to take care of myself.  

The Universe has given me again all that I was asking from the exact classes I said out loud I didn't want two days in a row, to the rising women, the socializing, the connections, friendships, places and so on... 

Making my breakfast I read the messages that he sent as a reply to my view on his communication with me. They stir me up so much, causing me the tears to come out that needed to come out for some time now. The anger, frustration of not being understood, for being treated like he doesn’t know me, the hurt of the feeling so lonely sometimes at the same time feeling genuine gratitude for all the loving people around like the couple I met only a few hours before in the class as I had the gut feeling to go to that early morning class that I haven't been to since last year. I had that feeling it would mean something. The few people that it would wash into my life today when I needed them. I knew. In this ever changing turmoil of emotions, the uncomfortable and hurtful with the beautiful and enjoyable, the magic of life itself. 

The bliss I get from only the interaction in the morning with them, with torture Master Lotus flower, even only acknowledging the little things when there is one of my favorite asanas I would stay in for days if I wanted to that he says he cannot do, to making me rest, forbidding me to come to his hard classes for my own sake as he's lent me his hot water bottle to heal. Looking at my weak left side when I give up in the smallest movements telling me that this is a serious injury I must admit that probably he's right. When we finish the class with sharing our fondness for momos figuring out the best place to eat, laughing along in our childish simplicity of not living a yogic lifestyle. I don't know anything about yoga he says. And I contribute with my opinion of consuming foods that are nourishing my mind and soul instead of eating veggies all day. Making the whole thing a full circle moment.

Nevertheless when I return to the messages that remind me of my unease from the evening class before I feel torn and crushed. Crushed in my little world that these are the things that hurt me and seem to never stop hurting me. In my identity. In my values. In all that I know that I am even when my intellectual mind knows that all this has nothing to do with me. Also my mind knows that he means the same well. Also I know that my emotions are stronger than the situation is requiring because it is something really personal to me. All this is throwing me into a big rotation of confusion, making me feel totally out of time and space and place about what to do where to go, how to feel. I just feel how I am overwhelmed and I don't want to feel all these unnecessary emotions towards a situation that's not worth it.

And yet here I am grabbing my bag walking towards the cafe I wanted to go to for some days, treating myself with some good quality cappuccino but in the eye of my irritation and disconnection, I walk into a cafe along the way, give the owner a hug and think to rest for just some minutes to have a Chai. When the chai is not coming and I only see him cleaning around I get up, knowing that I am in the wrong and that probably someone has already started preparing it for me, seeing him look at me in confusion wanting to communicate, turning my back on him just walking out as I seem to have absolutely zero capacity, tolerance anything to withstand any situation that is not running entirely smoothly according to me. Now I feel ashamed on top of my hurt, my fragility, my feeling of being totally lost, having done someone wrong. Someone completely innocent and always kind to me who had absolutely nothing to do with any of it.

My heart weighing now double inside my own chest from putting more struggle on it, I walk up the road, finding a bathroom before returning to the cafe just to stop, sit down, breathe and... Cry. Again. My tears just start splashing out again. What's wrong with me? Life is beautiful. Nobody is trying to hurt me. And still. These days when everything seems to come together and I still feel the Universe working in my favor, for my journey, my path, my experience. This is of so much importance. This is me right here with all that I am. And sometimes that me is hurting for all I know.

When finally I reach the cafe I down my first coffee with so much longing that I order another one right away. Soul food. Today I can feel the craving of my body and mind deeply. The intrinsic desire to still my hurt with the things I love. Really love. From the momos to the cake. All of it. It feels warm inside of me to finally let go and just allow myself to rest. To rest from all of it. To rest my hurt, physically and mentally. Let go of my expectations that I have for myself every day. Reading, studying, practicing. It's my love. My absolute love my life long practice and yet sometimes I forget how much a break is needed. Holding a bunch of educational books in my hands that sound intriguingly interesting, a message is popping up on my screen. Snow. My mom. Home. Again tears are splashing out of my eyes. She calls. This will call will last for over an hour. An unusually long Friday call, reaching all life topics as my mom doesn't fail to mention at the end of the call. From discrimination, culture, politics, toxic masculinity, the unfairness and imbalance of the world, society and my personal pains, she also doesn't fail to send me a message afterwards telling me that whenever I feel the longing or want to talk I should just give her a call (red heart emoji). 

It's that time of the day now. The energies of love of my loved ones flowing around while my most beloved sister from last year has already tried to reach me, I go on with my tour, deciding that it's maybe time for mother Ganga to cleanse my heart and soul. Wash away my sorrow. All packed I again leave my place walking down the road thinking of what to get at our all time favorite socializing bakery cafe. The moment  I reach, someone is standing right in front of me. I stare into a familiar face and can feel how my entire mimic changes into a wide bright smile like I haven't felt in quite some time. I had a glimpse of it the day before when my new Israeli friend wrote me how happy she is to have met me. A little bit when I meet my tattoo friend for Chai again as well as his his colleague who serves the Chai having an even bigger smile when he sees me.

And yet when I stand in front of our favorite little cafe today and I see his face, for a split second for my brain to collect the data and analyze the how when what huh? a large wave of happiness and excitement is washing over me. His friendly open face smiling at me as we hug each other laughing. I can't believe it. Finally a friend from last year. As I've felt the last days walking through the streets wishing for a familiar face to show up, here I am today in this emotional turmoil already having had an innocent victim of my emotions apologizing to me (my friend that I ordered the chai with from earlier in the day, asking for my forgiveness if he had done something wrong which of course he didn't). The friend I maybe needed.

We sit down, we start chatting just like a few days ago when I ran into someone I've met before in the same place, turning the coffee talk into a whole evening of conversations, walks and eating; sitting in the same spot again today we're moving along a similar path, only this time... We're moving to the other side. On the other side of life. On the other side of Rishikesh where everything seems to be happening. On the other side that every conversation from the last days, every person I've met has taken me to. That I've taken myself to. Change of perspective, shift of opinion, opening up, return to the flow. He looks at me he understands my thoughts, the conversation is flowing naturally and excited. We’re laughing and seem to have similar life topics. Two coffees later we get going to Mother Ganga as I seem to be moving to the other side already. In my mind. And soon to be physically. It's all coming together here now, metaphorically and actually. Things seem to make sense and the magic of Rishikesh is putting things back into order or puzzle pieces together however we may wanna understand it. 

Again I see myself walking down the river with a friend, our conversations going in the same flow as the energies that have brought us here today. Taking a refreshing bath in the Holy water, we reconnect with our common sister and get back as our bodies have dropped in temperature due to the wet cold underwear sticking to our skin. New doors have been opened and I feel a fresh bliss coming with my new moving to the other side idea. Things move. First of all in your mind.

Returning back I change my clothes, putting on many warm layers to get back to an average body temperature. I grab my wallet, hungry as I am heading down to get a large dish of my favorite meal. Walking down the road I run into my morning teacher. Seems also all the other students were too lazy today to attend class. We're laughing. Only an hour later he sends me a message asking to go eat momos. I had forgotten already. German dinner time for 5.30pm had already taken over.

I laugh at how things in the end always connect when my Israeli friend calls and tells me that today class was canceled and I can’t help but wonder why. Ending the night he is messaging about my evening plans and out of nowhere here I am making a plan to drink. Making the night day as his name suggests. What a match on that day to have a friend by my side just like that as the Universe is always listening. Coming from the other side to come back together for a happy weekend. Meeting back on the other side. 

As when my drunk head rises the next morning the sky is dark. The sun has disappeared just for me. Only today. Because today is for me.