Yoga: Finding my Quiet.

A fine drizzle drifts lazily through grey mist, coating the businessmen who hurry by in somber suits. Grim faces pass, dead eyes fixed doggedly ahead. I duck and weave among them, skilfully avoiding a mass assault with the sharp edges of my umbrella.

It’s autumn, but I’m in denial and refuse to dig out my warm winter coat just yet. Instead, I snuggle deeper into my colourful shawl, a gift from a friend in India, whose deep pinks and reds remind me wistfully of a long summer sunset.

I’m heading to yoga; my midweek routine for over three years now. Not for the first time, I wonder where the time has fled to. I’m certainly a different person to the fresh-faced girl I was then. Physically I’m stronger, but it’s so much more than that.

I have discovered more about myself than I ever knew I wanted to. I’ve brought the best and the worst of myself to that tiny studio, embracing my heartache and my grief, my sins, and my love, listening to the rain bouncing steadily off the low tin roof like a mother’s heartbeat.

My husband has ditched class tonight, his early morning decision throwing my resolve. Now I’ll have to walk alone from the ferry in the dark, battling the driving rain. Suddenly the hour trek each way feels too far, too much effort.

I’m already sore from two days of exercise and a small voice inside encourages me to go home and jump in a hot Radox bath, to drink tea and read. I long to listen, the comforting thought of home almost winning me over.

‘But, you love yoga’ my friend reminds me. ‘You are always so happy once you have been.’ And she’s right.

So, I focus on the gift that the opportunity presents tonight. The chance to slow down, to reflect. The 1.5-hour pause in a life that is constantly abuzz with work, exercise, friends, hobbies and thoughts. Constant ideas about the things I need to do, the people I plan to spend time with, the adventures we are plotting, the things that inspire me. The noise is a dull roar in the back of my mind. Even the creative part of my soul, who reads and writes, draws and dances, finds freedom, but not always quiet, in those treasured moments.

Yoga is different. The sound of my breath takes me to the ocean, the tidal rhythm a soothing companion. All I think about is connecting with my body, removing the toxins and letting my energy flow with the rise and fall of my chest.

I follow the sun salutations, and the world ceases to exist. There is only now the strength of my arms and the bend of my back. There is only my teacher’s soft voice reminding us of what we should remember when we leave our mat: breathe in, hold, breathe out.

At the end of tonight’s class, my teacher notices I am beginning to cough, and hurries to fetch me her spare cardigan. ‘Wear this darling,‘ she tells me, ‘you must stay warm and look after yourself.’ She hugs me goodbye with genuine affection and I am filled with an overwhelming sense of well-being.

This love, this care, reminds me why I come here, week after week. It’s not for the exercise alone; it has never been just that. I come for the opportunity to sit quietly with my thoughts, for a safe space to be myself. I come for the chance to connect with good people, who care deeply for the community that we have built together. I come to release the negativities and exhaustion of my day. I come to find my quiet.

For the Women who Lost Themselves. {Poem}

She lost herself in tumbling streets,

beside canals lit with fireflies flickering like stars.

She walked among couples, hand in hand,

whispering the secrets of the chosen into ears, and necks, and lips.

 

She lost herself in alleyway bars,

with milk-crate stools, and tumblers of warm amber

that burnt away the memories of another’s touch.

Men’s dark eyes watched her move across the cold stone floor,

longing for the warmth of a pretty girl’s smile.

 

She lost herself, in lakes and rivers and oceans,

drowning in the turquoise caress of water on skin,

fingers tangled in foamy waves.

She danced with mermaids to the bright song of the moon,

stardust in her hair and freedom in her heart.

 

She lost herself, in words,

her own and others.

In worlds where villains never win,

and love conquers all.

She dreams of the places where life goes on,

long after she has left them,

and there is peace in that. 

 

Author: JoJo Rowden
Image: Unsplash
Editor: Lieselle Davidson

 

Originally published at Elephant Journal here.

How to Have an Adventure Every Damn Day.

For as long as I can remember, there has been a part of me that longs for the sublime.

A niggle that urges me to head off on an eternal adventure, filling my freedom bucket as I roam from exquisite valley to roaring river, stopping only to gaze at nature’s marvels along the way. It’s a dream many share, and fewer achieve in their lifetime.

As a youngster, I would escape the madness of my house by packing my notebook into my backpack, and heading off down the alleyway next door. It was a magical place. Rich velvet foliage stretched on as far as the eye could see, and my small fingers freed juicy blackberries from thorny prisons. The squirrels were still innocent enough to approach me for monkey nuts, taken straight from my hands. I sat in the shade, and wrote about my dreams. It was a place where anything could happen.

I explored the overgrown jungle of a neighbour’s yard, peeking through at the broken, abandoned cars, making up a fantasy about how it came to be so desolate. I imagined my future, and the discoveries I would make. I wanted to see the whole world and was determined that my life would be lived in the moment, enraptured by the wonders of distant shores. I resolved not to be like other grown-ups. I didn’t want a boring corporate job that I didn’t care about. I refused to pound the pavements of a concrete jungle. Most of all- I didn’t want to spend my most precious gift–time– building someone else’s dream.

Then life happened.

My parents divorced. Money was tight. I got the highest exam results in my high school year, and I remember the very moment that I decided that, actually, I needed the high-flying career that I had always vowed to avoid. I was determined to use my academic achievements to help my family, should they ever need it. So College, University, a graduate job came next. The steps were logical, almost satisfying: tick, tick, tick. I didn’t stop for the gap year that I longed for. I knew that graduate positions were gold dust, and that I needed to get some experience under my belt as soon as I possibly could. Adventure took a back seat to reality.

But the Universe remembers the promises we make to ourselves.

My first job was its very own adventure, as I jetted off to India for seven weeks of intense graduate training. My eyes were re-opened by that beautifully vivid, chaotic place. I remembered that the sights, the smells, the colours, the intensity, were all of the things that I had ached for growing up. I met new people. I met the love of my life. My dreams stirred. I saw clearly all of the excuses that I had been making to myself: ‘I’m too busy, too broke, too far into my career plan to have adventures.’ I didn’t want to make excuses anymore.

I realised that adventure didn’t necessarily mean abandoning all of my daily commitments for an epic ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ trip. (Though sometimes, of course, the longing to escape it all is overwhelming). The more I thought about it, the more I felt that adventures could be found anywhere, if I looked hard enough.

I asked myself: what defines an adventure?

For me, adventure encapsulates the spirit of freedom. The ability to get up and go, and to do something outside of my everyday comfort zone. It doesn’t have to be as dramatic as sky-diving, or white-water rafting, though of course it could be either of those things. More important is the attitude of openness to something different, the willingness to try (and sometimes fail) and the capacity to go with the flow as new, unimagined elements unfold around us.

I began to brainstorm mini adventures that I could work around my lunches, evenings and weekends. My partner is always keen for new experiences, and together we began to plan activities that required little time and cost investments. We discovered that adventure could be as simple as taking a new route home from work, or planting exotic flowers in the back yard. Anything that captures the essence of childlike wonder and enthusiasm, whilst finding delight in everyday things.

So, whether you work 9-5 in a corporate job, have family commitments, or are a national geographic explorer, my wish for you is a lifetime of experiences, in whatever shape or form that takes for you. I would love to hear about the inspiring adventures that you create for yourself everyday, because let’s face it: Adventures are stories that long to be told.

Feel free to connect with me here, or via the usual channels, to share ideas for all to enjoy.

In the meantime, here are some of mine to get you started:

1) Go camping for the night and sleep in the great outdoors.

All you need is a tent (or swag), warm clothes, food and light, and you are good to go. If you don’t want to go too far, sleep in your own backyard- you will see your home in a whole new light by morning.

2) Go Kayaking.

Find a river/ocean and hire a kayak for a few hours. Feel the spray on your face, and access some areas that you would never have reached on foot. Amazing!

3) Take a canvas and paints to a spot of natural beauty. 

Find a pretty spot, set up your canvas and let your imagination run wild. All kinds of people will stop for a look and a chat, so it’s a great way to meet some interesting new characters.  My friends and I had a competition to paint the same mountain landscape from a look-out, resulting in much hilarity. We hung the truly terrible canvases in our home to remind us of the fun we’d had that day, and they never fail to make me smile.

4) Get yourself lost on purpose.

When I first got my drivers licence, (way before GPS even existed), my sisters and I would play a game. We’d jump in the car and drive as far as we could, taking any turns we felt like until we were truly lost. We would stop and grab a milkshake at a random café, then try to find our way home again, chatting and laughing, and discovering new sights along the way.

5) Go for a hike with friends.

Get off the beaten track. Swim in rivers, lay in the sunshine, crunch through leaves. Get home exhausted, but happy.

6) Do something that scares you. High five yourself afterwards!

For me, this ranged from driving for five hours (and through a shallow river) to a remote writers retreat, to signing up for singing lessons. I couldn’t say which terrified me more, but I was so pleased with myself afterwards for confronting my fears that I felt invincible!

7) Watch the sunrise or set.

Grab a picnic rug, some friends and some nibbles and watch the sunset/sunrise from a beach, park or garden. Last summer we instituted ‘Sunset Wednesdays’ with friends, to do just that.

8) Sign up for a fun run/race.

Do it by yourself, or with friends. Train for it and make a day of it. Dress up, dress down. Race for a cause if you want to, and know that you made a difference.

9) Impromptu train trip

Pack an overnight bag, head to the train station and get onto the first train you see. Find a hostel on the fly (all part of the adventure), then explore your new surroundings!

10) Head to a Yoga retreat.

Or if u can’t afford one- get some friends together and create your own at one of your houses. Drink green tea, have hot bubble baths, and treat yourself gently for a whole weekend.

11) Rollerblading/ Cycling/ Segway

Find something with wheels. Use them to fly free down boulevards, parks and trails.

12) Look up free meet ups in your area.

Meetup.com is a great way to follow your passions and hobbies with other like minded folk. Whether it be ladies who lunch, surfing buddies, or book clubs, there is something for everyone to enjoy. When I moved countries, this was a great way for me to meet people and do things that I wouldn’t normally do.

13) Volunteer

For me, nothing is more satisfying than helping a cause that means something to me. Clear rubbish from a forest, become a mentor, serve at a soup kitchen. Whatever fills your heart to bursting- do that and enjoy every moment. That way it will never feel like a chore. This is my latest escapade, and I’m currently looking into a scheme that lets you take an elderly friend for tea. Watch this space!

—

Author: JoJo Rowden

Image:8bar bikes/flickr

Originally published on Elephant Journal here.

She’ll Meet you Where the Wild Things Are

“If she’s amazing, she won’t be easy. If she’s easy, she won’t be amazing. If she’s worth it, you won’t give up. If you give up, you’re not worthy.” ~ Bob Marley

She’s worth it, your wild one.
She will set your world on fire, if you are brave enough to let her.

She will enchant you, fulfill you and challenge you. She wants you to know her, so that you can love her, quirks and all.

She wants you to understand that your adorned magnolia walls can’t hold her inside, not for long. Your expensive beamed ceilings can never be high enough or remarkable enough to be worth missing a glimpse of her beloved azure sky. Your home is a beautiful prison certainly, but it destroys her all the same.

Her spirit paces the enclosed room like a caged tigress, tail swishing furiously, looking for escape. She longs to run free. Show her a meadow full of colour, where she can dance among sunflowers. Let her roam outside with no fancy ornaments or gadgets to distract her creativity, just breeze and rolling hills. Lay with her on cool grass, fingers entwined, and watch the stars blaze a path of glory across an inky midnight sky.

Don’t ask her to sit and play happy family with you. She doesn’t care if you buy the white toaster or the black one, or whether the neighbours have a bigger car than the two of you. She isn’t interested in chasing the extra dollar to have that standard resort vacation, or attending to mindless gossip. Let her dream of a far off glen, glistening ethereally in the soft light of the rising sun. Take her to listen to the song of the dawn birds, for they are all the small talk she needs.

She doesn’t iron the sheets, or, well, anything really. She is too busy curling up with a book, engrossed in a shiny new world waiting to be explored. She has never been able to relate to the domesticated heroines of old; tumbling from her own bed to her next adventure, wild haired and bright eyed. People tell her she is beautiful in her crumpled clothes and muddy boots. Passion always is. Recognise it. Worship it. Not everyone is blessed with it and it’s not something you can fake for too long.

She may not cook you a gourmet meal, but she loves food and she delights in feeding you. Let her. She won’t follow a recipe; she will trust her imagination, throwing in delicious colours and smells as they appeal to her. Let her wrap you in small strong arms, cover you in flour and sprinkle magic into your life. She will kiss you with a mouth that tingles with spices, leaving you hungry for more. She will never let your lips starve for her.

She won’t knit for you. She is young and restless and her time is too precious to spare. Her hands have more important things to explore right now. Your face, for instance; fingers lovingly remembering every last detail. She memorises the way you shudder when she lightly strokes your collarbone and how your stubble feels against her fingertips. This satisfies her far more than a ball of yarn ever could.

Let her breathe, your wild one. She will only stay if it feels right. Your mortal hands cannot bind her by holding her too tightly. Show her your fantasies and you might inspire her. She will tell you a story about what she longs to do with you, and to you. You should stop speaking then and listen. Her words are enchantments that weave mystery into your life, and her visions will never leave you, even when you ache to forget them. In years to come you will crave the power of her dreams, and others will pale in the shadow of her intensity.

She must run away now, the stars are calling her and life tugs at her soul ready for another adventure. She cannot be tamed. Love her if you will, or let her go. She cannot do this by halves.

She is chaos; she is freedom. She wants you to join her if you can. You know where to find her. You have seen her there in your head.

She will wait for you as always, where the wild things are.

Originally published here on EJ.

Photo: Michelle Hébert/Flickr