Baobab Yogis Begins: Creating Calm

“You create your own calm.” – Yogi Times today

Today, while rearranging the rooms of my house to accommodate my Baobab Yogis, I continuously observed this mantra.

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When the assemblyman came talking much and answering little of my PCV replacement questions; when the ceiling styrofoam crinkled as it bent into the small room and I instructed Raymond to “Lift it up;” when Rita’s father looked at the empty room with utter shock; when my landlord expressed his impatient desire to build and doubts pertaining to my “training,” I took deep breaths and responded in a cool calmness that led to desirable outcomes.

Baobab Yogis will be a reality without unnecessary strain because I’ve learned to create my own calm.

Reflective Momentum

1-17-16 (12:16 pm)

“Storm the inner citadels of wrath and egotism whose fall is the height of a man,” as Paramahansa Yogananda tells us Sri Yukteswar did.

The control of one’s own spirit is much greater a feat than any form of dominion over another: be it materialistic or spiritual. This is why I am determined to continue to work mostly on myself. If I become a better person, good deeds will follow. Good deeds do not make me a better person. And how can I become better without first examining my own shortcomings? Once identified, then I can work to banish them from myself.

Life is about to be more hectic than it’s ever been for me in Ghana. I will need to take it on with patience, devotion, and perseverance. Here comes the last push. It’s almost time to create the momentum that will carry me!

Back in Kalsagri…

1-19-16 (8:39 am)

As I sit in the teacher’s room, writing in my journal, listening to a meditation and the downbeat of the teachers’ feet pattering on the floor, I feel a part of this place. My body grounds me down and my heart fights to rise against the midday sun. At its’ height each morning and evening, my soul takes a siesta each day. When I read of the Sleepless Saint, I feel incredible desire to master my weariness. To always live in an enlightened and enlivened state: such a feat must be life-changing.

Forks to Fractals: Beautiful Goodbyes

Mom and Dad have gone. My heart struggles to rise above the waves. I miss them deeply already. Coming and going from loved ones is like swimming in the ocean. Sometimes you feel strong and can dive beneath the wave of sadness. And sometimes you misjudge the timing, to be pounded into the sand below. Despite my efforts to display the gumption my mom praised me for, I feel crushed today.

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The months until I depart are few. The decisions I’ll make are many. I’m about to embark on a roller coaster ride. And I know that the only way to approach the thrill is with the steady patience of one waiting in line for the Kingda Ka of Six Flags. Time will drag as slow as it moves fast. And I will need to move accordingly: with steady devotion to my yoga practice, my community, and my projects.

This morning I went for a jog on the beach after dropping Mom and Dad off at the airport. I passed many exercising Ghanaians and came at long last to a quiet curve of cliff. It peaked in a crumbling castle with cannons and tree roots woven through it’s deteriorating body. I found a beautiful perch to practice dancer pose and meditate on. It looked out over the sea-grass-furry tidal pools into a horizon with the lone mark of a fishing boat. As I sat, a panting Nigerian man came around the bend. Abraham told me that he had followed me. We spoke at some length, culminating in his jogging back with me; backstepping to tell me I was beautiful as we went. I set him free and continued on my way. I walked through the waves, barefoot, and did handstands on the beach. Life truly is wonderful.

As I headed back, meditating on the slow surrender of the black threads of sand being called back into the sea, I heard a plane. I looked up to see it moving into the foggy distance straight ahead. Checking my iPod, I saw that it was 9:52 am… probably my parents’ flight. I bid them farewell across the sea and tried to grasp the idea of my next adventures. I will be happy when I at long last go home.

I am learning to let go of my preconceived ideas of what the future holds… to an extent. It hurts to miss weddings, births, and deaths of those I love on the other side of the world. But I know I must follow through with my plans.

I guess when you choose to love so many people, hurt is inevitable: as you cannot possibly be there for each friend’s huge events and live your own life simultaneously.

Unattachment is my highest goal and attachment is my deepest fault.

As I wrote on facebook yesterday:

Time flies and everything changes. People move on and you’ll move on too. Disappointment will arise at the fork in the road: where a friend will go one way, and you another. But forks become fractals. And chaos becomes form. And a beautiful picture pieces itself together with each goodbye.

New Arrivals: 2016

And here I sit, at the start of a new year: waiting for my parents to land in Ghana at 7:50 am.

It is strange. Even though the event is large, I feel calm and methodical. I plan out our next step as they walk through the door.

The last time I was here was when I first arrived in Ghana. Due to adrenaline, sleep deprivation, and pounding rain, I was not able to take in my surroundings as our two Peace Corps Volunteer Leaders, Corey and Richie, ushered us to the mini-bus/ large PC tro. I had no understanding of my whereabouts. Perhaps much of my service has been lived in the same manner.

Now I sit, imagining Corey and Richie waiting for a large group of befuddled babes. Now I do the same for a pair of them: my parents.

 

And it is a new year. I wish to start it with the patience and understanding I lacked last night with the Accra Rest guards at the Peace Corps office. (My name was not on the list and it took some haggling to get in for the night.) I wish to begin anew; unattached; empathetic; reasoning; loving; living. Cheers to 2016!

(7:34 am)

Their flight just landed!!!