Sanka Praksalana and Prateek

Just when I (and probably you) thought things couldn't get any stranger, well, guess what, they do. This past Sunday, I performed my very own, doctor-less, hospital-less, cost-less, machinery-less intestinal cleanse (or colonic irrigation). Yup. You read that right. I cleaned my intestines. This is one of the yogic kriyas (cleansing practices) called Sanka Praksalana (pronounced shanka prakshalana). I could stop there, but I presume you'd like a few details. Be warned, the details ain't pretty. So I won't give too many. At its simplest, the description could be: drink 5 liters of salted water and let it come out while sitting on the toilet (#2). You are probably still curious. Process: get your materials ready the night before, prepare yourself mentally when you wake up, warm your 5 liter gallon of water, put in 5 spoonfulls of natural rock salt (if it's not salted, you will pee out the water, and if it's too salted, you will vomit it), shake it up, do a short meditation or consecration, and begin. 1) Drink one glass (1cup minimum) of the liquid, perform a set of 4 prescribed movements, drink another glass, repeat the movements, and so on, until you feel the need to go to the bathroom (again, #2). This can take as little as 4 glasses, but it took me 10. The first trip to toilet marks the crossing of a psychological barrier you may have, and everything is smoother and easier from then on. The first bowel movement cleanses your intestines of most the solid matter that, over time, has lined the walls of your intestines. As Angela (my teacher) said, you wipe after you poo, but why don't we worry about wiping the inside? It's even more important than wiping the outside. If you look carefully (which I didn't) you may find small objects like rings or buttons that were swallowed years ago and just got stuck and covered over time. Let me tell you that with the brief peek I took, I can say I am extremely glad that what was in the bowl is no longer lining my intestines! After your first bowel movement, you continue the process of drinking and movements, but may have to go quite quickly before even doing the movements. What comes out gradually become thinner and clearer, until it's nothing but the crystal-clear water you are ingesting. (I didn't get to that point my first time. I still have some cleansing to do.) Ok, so much for not sharing too many details. Hope you're not having breakfast while reading this! The whole process can take anywhere between 1 and 6 hours, with 4-6 liters of water. I did it in 2 and a half, with 5 liters. But like I said, I still wasn't completely done. But come on, I did pretty darn good! And I'm the only one in the class who went through with it and succeeded. Most others bailed, and only one other girl attempted, but over-salted her water and puked. Once you throw up, the process cannot be continued. And speaking of puke, Angela said if we really wanted to go all out and do the whole thing, we should end with vamana dhauti (the daily water puke I do), as this cleans your stomach and stops the sanka process. So I ended with that. Do I get a student of the week certificate or what??? When all is done, you lie down and relax for half an hours, then, very important, between 30 and 60 min after finishing, you must eat a large plate of white rice with at least 40grams of ghee (like butter). Mineral water can slowly be sipped at this point. Then the rest of the day is supposed to be very calm. There you have it. (More info on Sanka at http://theyogadr.com/shanka-prakshalana/)
But so much for the fully calm day... At 4pm, our teachers asked us to meet for Karma Yoga, a very nice way of saying "Clean and scrub the yoga hall". We shook out and scrubbed all the yoga mats, shook out the blankets, swept and hand-washed the large floor of the hall, wrote dates on publicity posters for Trika, made new posters, and finally, Ananta went around the clean room with a specifically made small fire to purify the air. Since I had done sanka, they took it easy on me, and after some shaking and scrubbing, I was put on poster duty. It was actually a lovely two hours, with good company and good music :)
To continue on the topic of strange, I'll tell you  a bit about Prateek. I ended the last post saying that I was on my way to see Prateek, the astrologer. That was the Saturday before my Sanka Sunday. Interesting weekend to say the least. So, Prateek. I've always been quite a skeptic when it comes to astrology, but boy did Prateek ever change that! We sat on the floor, he had his laptop in front of him, asked my name, birthday, birth time, looked at his chart of planetary movement, jotted down a few things on a paper, and proceeded to tell me about my life. Accurately. And not just this life, but also my past life (another thing I've had no choice but to believe in with what I've learned in the last two weeks). The planet charts help him tell me about general periods of ups and downs in my life, based on which planets I'm being influenced by. As for the smaller details, it seems that astrologers have a deep psychological ability to "read" people and pick up on extremely subtle cues to get their information. It was shocking, fascinating and exciting to hear everything he had to say. I'm sure I'll be back to see him again next week.
Forgot to mention we had our second bhajans (mantra chanting I wrote about previously) last Friday. This time, there was a new instrument I had never seen before called a Hang Drum. It looks like small flying saucer or very large wok (http://www.hang-music.com/hang.php) and produces one of the most exquisite sounds I've ever heard. We will now have Bhajans every Friday evening. 
Time to get ready for my evening class.
Namaste.

Books 'n' Buckets

Must. Stop. Buying. Books.
The quaint little bookshops in town are like a candy shop for me! They are filled with the most interesting, varied, inspiring, mind-blowing reads I've ever come across. Indigo schmindigo! But... I keep buying them and not opening them. My days are so packed and pass by so quickly it's just crazy. And my brain is being packed to densely with info from my Trika course and my Hindi lessons, that I don't think there's room left for books at the moment. I'll save them for my lazy beach days in the south a couple months from now. So, my backpack will be very heavy, but I'm sure it will all be worth it when I finally crack the covers.
Now, buckets. Well, actually, bucket. 
Bucket part one: I've finally mastered the art of showering. Here's the process: turn water tank switch to 'on'. Wait 5-10 minutes. Turn shower on (yes, the hot water actually comes out from the shower head at this guesthouse!), thoroughly wet hair and body with warm water, and let the water fall into the bucket (bathrooms all come equipped with a large bucket). Turn the taps off as water starts to cool. Shiver as I shampoo and soap. Turn the shower back on, rinse soap and shampoo with the new batch of heated water, let more water fall into the bucket. Turn the taps off when hot water runs out. Do final rinse with bucket water. Sounds more complicated than it really is, once you've become a pro. This sounds like what many people already do back home (as far as closing the taps between wet and rinse), but the difference is that with the cool weather here and no heating, it's quite cold when the taps are off. 
Bucket part two: Vamana dhauti. Look it up. It's my daily morning stomach water cleanse. In a nutshell, you crouch down "en petit bonhomme", chug a liter of warmed water, stand up, jump around and push your stomach in and out to shake the water around, then bend over at a 90 degree angle and vomit the water. I've been doing it everyday for a week, and have the whole process done in under 3 minutes. Like for the shower, becoming quite a pro. I vomit into the bucket, look at and analyze my puke, write a short description in my puke diary, and go on with my day. When I greet my fellow yogis in the morning, there's no, "Good morning, how are you?", but rather, "Hi! How was your puke this morning? Was it more Kapha, Pitta or Vatta?" (Whether it's more mucus-like or bile-like or bubble-like will determine which of the three doshas - again, look them up - are predominant.) 
Bucket part three: After being gone for 2 weeks, I have finally done laundry. Yes, done. Not had done. My bucket is about 10 liters I'd say, and I couldn't fit all my clothes in it in one shot (I change my clothes about once a week, so I don't know how I accumulated so much!). So I had three "loads". Heated my water tank, filled my bucket, put in some soap, and put in some clothes. Moved them around as much as I could, using my hand and forearm as a spinner. After a few minutes, gave each piece a good scrub, took the clothes out one piece at a time, rinsed each one under cold water, wrung them out as much as I could, and hung each piece on the balcony. Load two: empty filthy water and repeat all steps. Load three: no time, took so long for the first two that I had to run off to yoga. When I came back hours later that night, hanging clothes were still wet, and some had flown down onto a lower story of the guesthouse. When I observed the hanging pieces, I noticed that all that effort produced nothing more than very mediocre results (not to mention the backache... difficult to maintain good posture while leaning over a bucket to wash, rinse, and strain clothing). Unlike showering and vamana dhauti, not a pro. Sigh. Ok, next time, laundry service. But I have to say, I'm very happy to have done my laundry by hand at least once in my life. I will now bow in reverence to the washing machine every time I fill it with clothes!
So, that's the story of my friend, the bucket. It helps me shower, receives my puke every morning without complaint, and cradles the filth of my dirty laundry. Don't know what I'd do without it.   
Time to walk over to Laxmanjula, for my first meeting with Prateek, the astrologer!

Correction

Just a detail... aparigraha is one of the yamas, not the niyamas. Oops. Lots of info in the past 2 weeks... trying to keep my facts straight :)
If interested in these, check out a brief outline: http://www.bradpriddy.com/yoga/yamani.htm

Shanti Mai

First, happy Republic Day to all Indians!

Next, Shanti Mai. I went to my second satsang (gathering of people to listen to a guru) on Tuesday, the 24th. My first, with Prem Baba, was on the Sunday, and I needed a couple days to recover emotionally. Shanti Mai is an American, easier to relate to, and seemingly more down to earth. Well, relatively. Again, we were in a large sunny room, with a few less people than at Prem Baba (a little under a hundred, I'd say). The process was similar: seated chanting, rise when she enters, second chant with her, listen to her speak, chant to close the gathering, rise as she leaves. She is a beautiful, lively, animated woman, 61 years of age, who speaks mostly about the immense potential that exists within each and every one of us. It was of course a very inspirational, motivational and empowering talk. Less heavy than Prem Baba's. But again, "coincidentally", she spoke about things that really hit home for me. People like her and Prem Baba have the incredible ability to read multiple (or even all) the energies present in the room, and everyone, at one point, will feel that the speaker is addressing them personally. Early in her talk, she spoke about what an incredible opportunity it is to have one's ashes put into the Ganges. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I have some of my beautiful grand-maman's ashes with me here in India. She had asked that her ashes be spread in oceans around the world, because of how much she loved water. While I will certainly respect this wish, I now also feel a strong desire to put some of her ashes into the magical Ganga (which, of course, flows into the ocean). Later in her talk, Shanti Mai spoke about the loss of one's mother. While my emotions had been under control during most of the lecture, they broke free at this point. Tears began to flow quite strongly as she explained that we never really lose the people we lose. A couple days earlier, my mother's dear friend, Joanne, sent me this reminder in an e-mail: "I don't think you'll have to look far to find Joy--she's right inside you!" With Shanti Mai and Joanne in mind, I have been able to sense my mother's presence within me more strongly than ever before. Thank you Joanne, thank you Shanti Mai. (http://mindbook.ws/profile/ShantiMai?xg_source=activity)
Last night, the daily Trika lecture was on Karma Yoga. Oufff! What a topic. It would take much too long to address it properly in this post, but I greatly look forward to discussing it in depth with those I will see when I return to Canada. A little anecdote in relation to it... Almost every day since my arrival in Rishikesh, I've walked into "downtown" to use internet. On my way, I always encountered a hunchbacked, skinny-legged, cane-holding beggar who would point at, and sometimes lightly grab onto, a wooly, orange, Tibetan shawl I bought on my second or third day here to keep warm. I've had it wrapped around me almost constantly every day. This man was different from some of the other beggars. He would smile as he approached, rather than act sternly or aggressively. After a few days of walking past him, returning the smile, but shaking my head as I continued on my way, I thought, "If I understand this man's actions correctly, and he really does want or need a shawl, maybe I should lead him to the stall where I bought mine, ask him what color he likes (by pointing, of course, because  of the language barrier - which I'm slowly working on) and buy him one." Then, a day or two later, a lecture at Trika was given on one of the niyamas: aparigraha (non-attachment). So I started thinking about why I wanted to buy the man a new blanket instead of simply giving him the one I had. Well, because I really liked the one I had chosen; it had been on me for a week straight, it was part of my experience here, and, I was attached to it. Last night was the lecture on Karma Yoga, and today, having the aparigraha and karma  lectures in mind, as I was on my way to town for internet and saw the man, as I knew I would, he walked towards me, smiled, pointed at and touched my shawl, and this time, with love and compassion, I handed the shawl to him. His smile widened into an ear-to-ear grin, his eyes became blurry, and he reached up and rested his hand on my shoulder. Wow, what an incredible and indescribable sensation. Then I put my hand on his shoulder, smiled warmly, and walked on.
I decided to share this story today, not because I want praise or recognition for my action, but because I want to encourage all those who are reading this blog to perform one random act of kindness today. It doesn't matter what it is, how big or how small, just something. And try, if you can, to do it not because I'm asking you to or because it will give you gratification, but simply because you feel in your heart that it is the right thing to do. Wait for the right moment, you will know when it's time...
With that, I will head back out into the streets to see the parades and festivities in celebration of India's constitution and independence :)
I would like to end with something that Cindy (my wonderful yoga teacher for the past three years) would often end the class by sharing with us, and which I think fits beautifully with what Shanti Mai had to say:
I honor the place in you where the entire universe dwells; I honor the place in you which is of love, and light, and truth, and peace; and when you are in that place in you, and I am in that place in me, we are all one.       

Prem Baba

Just back from my second class with Swati (weekends off, I meet with her Monday to Friday at 11am for an hour or two). Brought a couple recruits with me today, giving her business :)
But let me go back to the - yes, again - magical day that was yesterday. I had first heard of Prem Baba from the Brazilian guy that the German and I got a moto-rickshaw ride with when we first arrived. I didn't think much more about him until fellow students in my Trika class started talking about their experiences with him. Basically, the bulk of what they said is: "You will cry." Hmmm, ok. Sunday is our day off at Trika, so to continue and expand my yogic learnings and influences, I thought it would be a good day to go hear him speak. I walked over to the other side of town (to the Laxmanjula bridge area; I am in the Ramjula bridge area) to the ashram where he was with my Belgian friend, Alice, also taking the Trika course. (Papa et Rachel, vous serez heureux de savoir qu'avec elle - et je la vois a tous les jours - je parle francais :) Et aussi avec Gabriel, de Trois-Rivieres - le premier Quebecois que je rencontre! - qui je vois de temps en temps, et qui viendra desfois au cours de Swati.) It was her second time there, and my first. We removed our shoes and walked into a large, bright, window surrounded room, with a floor covered in small cushions to seat about two to three hundred people. I sat down, got comfortable, looked around the room, and almost instantly I had a big knot in my throat. The energy was undeniable. We all stood as Prem Baba entered and walked to to his white-cushioned chair. (A bit about Prem Baba before I go on, taken from a website: "Sri Prem Baba is a spiritual master of the Sachcha Lineage and a shaman from Brazil. He works to build bridges between worlds: spirituality and psychology, east and west. He blends satsang and meditation, music and chanting. Prem Baba will address how to open your heart, observe yourself, integrate your shadow and connect with the divine. He offers a practical form of psycho-spiritual work called “The Path of the Heart” that will allow you to go beyond fear and ego to love and compassion." So, the session began with a little presentation/offering by a group of about 8 children (because, "coincidentally", the first day I decide to attend, the focus is on the crucial importance of childhood education). They spoke, acted, sang, danced, played music. When one boy played Fur Elise (a piece my grandmother used to love and play and taught me on the piano), tears began to swell up in my eyes. After the presentation, the regular session began, with the live instruments and chants. Within seconds, tears were streaming down my face. As the sounds got louder and more powerful, I began to sob like never before. I couldn't control it and didn't know why it was happening. I had never heard anything so beautiful. As the intensity of the music lowered again, my sobs were a little more under control. After quietly scanning the room for a minute or two (reading the energies of those in attendance), Prem Baba began to talk. He spoke for about an hour on education and related topics. I was very interested, but could hardly keep my eyes open due to the drain from the intense surge of emotions that preceded. After the talk, it was time for the closing chants. I figured that since I now knew what to expect, I would be able to control my emotions, appreciate the music, and even participate in the chanting. But again, the moment the music and voices filled the room, tears filled my eyes. And as the intensity increased, I cried like I've never cried before. (And I wasn't alone. The room was filled with sniffles, from men and women of all ages.) Ouf... wasn't sure how much more of this I could take. (On the walk home, Alice told me she was unable to stay for the whole session her first time, as it was just too much.) I was relieved to see that, after the second set of chants, it was almost over. As the musicians kept playing, some people lined up to approach Prem Baba, say or ask something, and receive his blessing. When all those who wished to had been seen and heard by Prem Baba, we all stood as he exited, then sat back down for a 5 minute meditation before leaving. Wow. Wow. Wow. I was speechless as I walked out. I'm getting choked up just writing about it. 
Curious about what had just taken place, I discussed it with friends and yoga teachers later that day. The explanation is that Prem Baba works deeply with energies, and that as you sit in his presence, hear the chants and hear him speak, your blocked chakras (energy centers in the body) begin to open up and all the negative emotions that have been stuck in them begin to be released. Hence the intense crying.
I moved, thought and walked very slowly that afternoon (and those who know me well know that I walk like my arse is on fire!). I was in a very calm and serene state. I walked, observed, reflected, and then wrote a very important e-mail to a very important person.
Just when I thought the day couldn't get any more magical, we had our special evening at Trika. Earlier in the week, we had planned an evening of sacred mantra chants at Trika on Sunday. Those who were interested (it was optional since Sunday is our day off, but of course, I wanted to go) were to meet in our yoga hall at 6pm. I had dinner with some great friends I've made from class, and we walked over together. It was a first for all of us. We entered the dark hall to see cushions placed in a circle around a formation of red sheets and blankets, with flowers and a small stone statue in the center, and a circle of white burning candles between our seats and the center formation (and then they pulled out a string of red Christmas lights and placed them in a circle in the middle to add to the festivity!) Julian, from our class, was there with his girlfriend(?) Tanya, each with a guitar and ready to lead the mantra chanting. (We were about 12, some from class, some not.) Besides the two guitars, there were a few other smaller instruments laid out, which we were free to take and play when we felt it was right. Julian and Tanya (European, not sure from where) are a regular chanting duo (I'll send a youtube link of them when I find it), and we are so lucky to have Julian in our class, as this evening would not have been the same without them. Tanya has a stunning voice, and as we all joined our voices and instruments, the feeling was simply indescribable. Each chant began at a slow pace and low volume, gradually increasing to the point where we smiled and "danced" as we sat and sang. Then the intensity diminished, and at the end of each chant, we sat and absorbed the beautiful sensation created by each one.
A stunning, spectacular day yet again.
Shanti. Shanti. Shanti. 

Lovely Swati

As you may have guessed, life continues bring new joys every day here in Rishikesh.
Whoa! I didn't blog yesterday! Lots to say...
Let's start with the title, Lovely Swati. I was in a stationary shop picking out a new notebook (for my many, many, class notes) and some beautiful hand-made cards. Got to chatting with the owner (Amit), told him I was interested in learning Hindi (thank you Meera for getting me off to a good start before I left!) and asked him if he had any recommendations. Turns out his wife used to teach foreigners, but that there hasn't been much demand lately. He told me to stop by after evening yoga, and that he'd talk to her in the meantime. When I went back that evening, he hopped on his motorbike to go pick her up, as she was walking home from work. They both arrived a few minutes later, Swati said she would be pleased to teach me, and we made an appointment for 11 the next day. I went to Amit's store around ten to 11, and he walked me to their home (a couple minutes away) and Swati offered me tea and noodle crisps to bring up to their rooftop where I had my first lesson in the sun. She is beautiful, kind, spunky, and those two first hours on the roof, were, I'm certain, the beginning of a wonderful friendship. Swati is about my age, married with a 4-year-old boy. The three story modest home houses the three of them, plus Amit's brother and parents. They are a tight-knit family who always look out for each other. I learned an immeasurable amount in those two hours, not only about the Hindi language, but also about plenty of cultural questions I've had since arriving in Rishikesh. Amit works at the stationary shop all day, and Swati teaches in the evening (5:30-7:30) at the only English school (well, class) in this area. It was founded by Truike, a woman from Amsterdam who lives and works in New York. It opened last summer, and Truike hired Swati (one-year contract) to teach there while she went back to New York. She will return this July and August, when has time off. The school is called Children of Ganges (www.childrenoftheganges.com - Truike is the blond, Swati is the one in the beautiful red sari) and is a free school for street children. Swati invited me to come to the school, but I will only be able to go when my course ends, as the times are in conflict.
Next topic, toilets and showers. I've finally readjusted to bucket-flush toilets (like in Thailand), but had my first bucket shower the other day (at my previous guesthouse). There was a shower head and two waist level running taps below it. Hot water only comes out of the tap, and since the weather is cold, I was not interested in only cold water from the showerhead. So I filled the two large red buckets (the showers are never in baths here, with water just coming down onto the bathroom floor) with warm water, and proceeded to bathe in a new and interesting way. I was delighted when I found out that my new guesthouse has hot water that comes from the showerhead, but I'm going have to learn to take very quick and efficient showers: the hot water (which I have to turn on a switch to heat 10 minutes before showering), runs out after about 3 minutes. I wasn't ready for this the first time, so when the water went cold and I still had shampoo in my hair, I turned the tap off, crouched down, hugged my shivering body, and waited 5 minutes as the water reheated little, then quickly rinsed with the two minutes of warm water the wait provided. I'll get the hang of it soon enough. As I was crouched down, my eyes were level with... a toilet flush handle! It hadn't even occurred to me to check if there was one, as the bucket flush toilets (with paper in the wastebins since the buckets don't provide enough pressure to flush it down) are so common here. Ah, the small joys of life! Another small joy: as I was settling in for my first sleep at Sudesh, I noticed there were no blankets on the bed, only sheets. Discouraged, I stared intently at my sleeping bag, trying to send it some warmth energy for my night's sleep (kidding, kidding!). Just then, there was a knock at my door (around 10:30pm), and when I opened it, Raj (the guesthouse boy) was standing there with two thick blankets, offering them to me and wishing me goodnight.
This morning, at yoga, Ananta removed his shirt to visually demonstrate an abdomen suction exercise we were learning today. Wawaweewaa! Healthy inside and out ;)  Last night, we had our regular practice and lecture, followed by a Friday night movie in the yoga hall :) Movie was "What Dreams May Come", a beautiful, albeit glamorized, exploration of life after death. Actually, Angela said they had picked up the wrong movie, and that the planned one was much less Hollywoodized. Very pleasant night nonetheless. I won't go into too much detail about the lecture Angela gave before the movie, because many of you will think this is totally nuts, but long story short, my morning routine might soon consist of the following: rinsing out my nasal passages with a netti pot, scrapping my tongue with a stainless steel horse-shoe-shaped utensil (not bad so far, both things I was already doing at home), rinsing out my eyes by holding a small cup of water upside down over each one, drinking my urine, washing my face with my urine, and finally, here's the kicker (you thought the kicker was the urine drinking huh?) chugging a liter of warm water while squatting down, then quickly standing up, jumping around a bit to shake the water, then bending forward at a 90 degree angle, sticking two fingers down my throat, and bringing the water back up and out of my body. Yup. And Angela says the whole package can be done in under 7 minutes once you get really good at it! (Caution, do not try this on your own without understanding the exact whys and hows. It is very important to do the vomiting part on an empty stomach, as doing it with food - as we are more familiar with - can be dangerous and damage the digestive system.) This technique is used as an internal cleanse of mucus and toxic accumulation. Oh, and I will also be fasting once a week, on Fridays.
Well, I've gotten through about a third the items I had on my list for this post, but I've been sitting here long enough. The rest tomorrow.
Shanti, shanti, shanti.       

Entering the astral sphere...

Am I ever happy I'm not in Rajastan right now! Thank you to my Delhi hostel receptionist for convincing me not to go through with it. Life in Rishikesh continues to get more wonderful every day. But it has its little kinks, of course. Here are a few things you should know about my little town. First of all, it pretty much shuts down at 8pm. I was the last one in the internet shop last night writing my blog after yoga. I walked home in the dark (my new guesthouse is in a quainter, quieter, darker part of town) and I didn't have my headlamp with me (thanks Chrystal for another great purchase suggestion the day before I left!). I couldn't see the road very well, and was paranoid I'd step in one of the many huge piles of cow dung that grace the streets. Yup, that's the biggest of my worries these days! Another thing about Rishikesh is that because it's a holy town, there is not a drop of alcohol. Not on the menus, not in the shops. So the evenings are calm and quiet, no chance of running into obnoxious drunkards. Also, at any given moment of the day, if you look around you you are sure to spot at least one monkey, cow, cat and dog within meters. Even the animals are calm and peaceful here. And oh, the smells... all sorts of good, all sorts of bad, but somehow, when all mixed together, they seem lovely: street vendors with their chai (tea), roasting peanuts, popping corn, chapati (flatbread) cooking; incense burning; animal poop fuming; smokey fires burning; spices cooking; outhouses, well, stinking. And not just outhouse bathrooms... the one in my guesthouse room generously spreads its odors throughout the room when door and windows are closed. I try to air out the room as much as possible during the day, but at night temperatures fall to almost freezing, so I have to close up. By morning, the stench is pretty intense. But besides that, I'm thrilled with Sudesh, my new guesthouse. The room is plain but I've made it cozy; there is a large yoga hall on the fifth floor (I'm on the third), and a fabulous, open rooftop on the 7th. I went up there this afternoon to catch a few seconds of sun when it came through the grey sky, but the wind made it too cold to stay. There is also a communal kitchen, so I can make my own tea and food (though the cafes are so delicious and cheap that I'm sure I'll mostly eat out). Another great yoga session this morning. A new teacher started it off, the handsome dread-locked Kristof from (?), giving theory on the sublimation of energy (transferring energy from one to chakra to another in order to create balance and harmony between them). Fascinating once again. Then angelic Angela took over for the asana (posture) portion of the class. During the final relaxation, I felt a very strong sensation in my body that is difficult to express, but I'll try. We are laying down on our backs, legs outstretched, arms resting alongside our body. Imagine that my body is a pencil and that you hold it in the middle with your thumb and index and make small, quick movements with your fingers... the line remains straight but shifts in small movements from side to side, clockwise and counterclockwise. Then, it begins spinning in almost full circles. The body feels light and disconnected from the ground. (Hmmm, the sensation actually felt less strange than this description. Actually, it's not the first time I've felt this. I've had this sensation many times while just laying in bed, but never thought much about it nor questioned why it was happening. Or questioned it maybe, but didn't seek an answer or explanation. This time, however, the sensation was significantly stronger than it had ever been, and it was almost difficult to come out of it when it was time to stretch and sit up. When I did, I felt dizzy and nauseous). So I stayed after class to talk to Angela about it, and her eyes widened as she slowly said, "Woooww". She explained to me that it was a sign of me fully letting go of my physical body and entering the astral sphere. Yikes! Where will I be in a month? She gave me recommendations for how to shift my focus to prevent the nausea I was feeling; I thanked her and went on with my day. Which was lunch at Oasis cafe, just a few steps from my guesthouse. Had my first dahl soup (delicious mixture of brown and yellow lentils with coriander) and chapati. It's just about time for today's evening session. More fascinating yogic adventures to come!