Four Months

Seventeen countries, seventeen books and I've lost count of all the other stuff I was tracking. My shorts are tight and I'm a bit self-conscious as to if I need to put a "wide-load" sign on my ass. One of my goals for this yoga training is to lose some weight. The majority of month four (September) was spent in yoga teacher training in Pokhara, Nepal. I enjoyed being alone here and looked at these first two weeks to set myself up for the best experience possible. I knew the classes would be intensely challenging and I would detox physically, mentally and spiritually and felt this was best done on my own, with as few distractions as possible. I quickly unpack and move in to the wardrobe and settle into a routine all to myself. Waking up before the sun, napping (or rather passing out) after breakfast and lunch, going to bed early, not having the a/c on, not watching TV or Netflix, not feeling like I need to do anything, go anywhere or plan something. I also took advantage of my solo time to really get to know some of my classmates and thoroughly enjoyed decreasing my time spent on social media and talking on the phone. This was all part of my yoga challenge.

I had a difficult time, at first, detaching from the European lifestyle. I love Europe. I love the food, the coffee, the pastries. I love wandering the supermarket isles, looking for new and exciting processed snacks. I love the ease of keeping a Western lifestyle, staying in beautiful apartments, cooking and doing my own laundry, the transportation and flushing toilet paper down the toilet. Although Greece you have to put your toilet paper in a waste basket, which was a nice ease into the next part of our trip, where this will be required. It really is not bad, and if you learn to use the "bum gun" (the water hose with spray nozzle next to the toilet) then you'll have very little to put in the waste bin. I too had not used this up until Nepal and brought it up at dinner one night. After some tear causing laughter, I was able to convince three of my classmates that I was serious, I needed a demonstration as how to use the "ass blaster". I was given thorough verbal instruction and went back to my room to practice. Now I understand all the water on the rim of the toilet.

My mantra, the first week or so of the training was "the universe doesn't give a flying fuck about you" (this is a fantastic quick read found on my Kindle App.) This little nugget of life advice will take about 10 minutes to read, and for me it was liberating. I tend to believe that I am more important than I actually am, that my opinion matters a bit more than it actually does, that my way of thinking and living is better than yours and that people are comparing themselves to me. This way of thinking has led me to feeling self-conscious, ugly, not good enough and small. When I repeat this mantra I stand taller, I feel lighter and have more energy to do the things that bring me the most joy. Believe it or not, when I repeat this mantra I have more self-confidence and an overall more positive outlook on myself and life in general. So, I remember this as I get my ass handed to me, four times (morning yoga, mantra, afternoon yoga and meditation), on day one of training. I take it as a reminder that no matter how good I think I am, there is always room for improvement. I take this ass handing, literally, you'd have to hand me my ass in order for me to feel it, it's gone numb with pain, as the gauge to which I will compare myself thirty days from now.

Four months in and I learn how to breath correctly. I have spent so much time sucking in my belly rather than breathing from it. Do this now, just breath and be aware of where you are breathing from. Are you able to visibly see your belly move in and out as you inhale and exhale? Or, like I was, are you breathing from your chest and shoulders, trying to keep your tummy sucked in, while convincing yourself that you are the proud owner of a six-pack? On day one we are told to let the belly out! I let it out, watching it spill over my shorts, just a bit and I smiled. I was actually proud of my pooch. For years I have felt bloated nearly all the time, burping and farting my way through life. In high school I had frequent sleepovers at my two boyfriends house. They were brothers. They were my friends, who were boys. Although, I asked one of them to be my actual boyfriend, once per week, with the response always beginning with an "n". (If you were thinking the word was nipples, you'd be incorrect). Anyway, these boys did not believe that girls farted. I was appalled, I had never heard of such a thing, but quickly realized that I'd have better chances if I never farted while around them. So, I held it in, for three years and nearly died from unreleased flatulence. If you let your belly out, there'll be less other stuff coming out. If you catch my silent but deadly drift.

Toward the end of month four I realized I haven't lost any weight, that I actually look like I've been eating steroid spiked rice. Nevertheless, I feel stronger, more flexible, my mind is calmer, I am less judgmental, I have less fear and anxiety. I also realize that yoga is a lifestyle that will take me the remainder of my life to even begin to understand. I also realize that I didn't fart once in class! Don't worry, I already texted my friend, who's a boy, and shared the good news.

Truth is, I farted once, but please don't tell my soon-to-be boyfriend.