Pardon the mainstream comparison, but my journey began much like an episode of The Amazing Race. Without having left the Pacific Northwest I already understood that I was up for some challenges. Europe, and in particular France, was having a cold snap and was covered with ice and snow. My flight to Paris was delayed 3 hours and I only had an hour connection to continue to Mumbai. I was in a long queue of people making audibly loud sighs of frustration and instead of taking on this reaction for myself, since I had absolutely no control over the situation, I realized the unplanned flow that thrusts itself upon my travels had already begun.
But dammit, I was still going to try to make it work. My first flight arrived quickly to Paris and somehow gave me 10 minutes to get from one terminal on a shuttle to the gate of my next departure. I was literally running, my shoe broke and I wasn’t exactly sure where to go…and then just as I could see the light at the end of this snafu…there was an additional security check. AARGH! Reaching the gate finally, the doors were shut with the blinking sign “boarding closed”. The Hyderabadi woman who was just trailing me during this Amazing Race scenario arrived behind me at the customer service counter and after an initial feeling of defeat we high-fived each other. Because now we have a full 24 hours in Paris…plenty of time for croissants and wine. Sweet.
With a voucher for free accommodation, meals and wine in hand I walked through terminal and beamed alongside the sunny skies appearing through the terminal windows. How would I spend my full day I now have for sightseeing Paris!?
Then I walked outside of the terminal to the shuttle stop welcomed by a frigid breeze. Oh man oh man, it was freaking COLD. And all I had was clothing appropriate for India. So no Eiffel tower…no shopping in boutiques or sitting in a sidewalk café. Nope. It was straight to the hotel and get warm. And for that matter, get a nap…I hadn’t slept in what seemed like 2 days. Anyway, it was a cool thing to have happened. So what if I arrive to India one day later than I had expected? I was well rested and fed…and I got to experience “gay Paris” even if only through the venue of a suburban airport area hotel filled with other stranded travelers.
* * * * *
On my first sunset in Arambol I accepted the happiness, contentment and my relaxed state without guilt.
But wondered out loud how can a person deserve to feel so free and alive and happy?
The discontentment I get every year that slowly and imperceptibly accrues through my summer and autumn…and culminates at the holidays is gone.
I realize that I have issues with the holidays. I understand the best way to gain healing is to face a trigger situation head on. So I decided to stick around my home turf this season to see how I’d fare. Christmas is a time of family and gathering and reflecting on family. New Years Eve is the one where reflection lays upon the state of relationships overall…particularly with significant others. And that’s because of that stupid question of who you’re going to kiss at midnight. What ultimately turned out to be the biggest challenge of the reflections I faced was over New Years. Beyond the holidays though, the past month has been a chaotic swirl of emotions. Adding to my mix was my preparations for my winter overseas. I don’t mean what to pack and how to leave the details of my life…but more so the emotional preparation for my transition from my life in the USA to my winter in India. What this represents is putting lovely connections at home on hold from deepening friendships to a temporary status over the winter of occasional emails and me reminiscing fondly to myself over a chai and a sunset. And then the cherry on top is the unknown of what lays ahead in my journey that is adding into the mix some fear.
And, as usual, the moment I arrive I *know*…FEEL immediately that this is right. This life here offers a gift of relief from the depression I experience in my life in the USA. Don’t get me wrong, I have an amazing life at home. But there are societal expectations at home that are latent yet I am sensitive to. …and for some stupid reason I not only accept them but I let them dominate and restrict my impulses.
There’s something about how I feel at home that keeps a little voice alive that keeps this swirling this list of LIES in my conscious:
- Work work work…if not working and making money I do not deserve to be happy and stress free
- My professional success should be in the forefront of most life priorities
- Look at the state of our government and economy, it is horrible so I should generate negative energy into the situation
- I need to have the latest technology, phone and gadgets
- Relying on online networking will create and develop relationships better than ever before
- A person my age should be married with children
- It is unsafe to travel
- My lifestyle and choices are preventing me from what I desire
- ...etc etc etc
and so I question my path.
I am the same person in India as I am the USA.
Yet I do not have the same questioning of my life when I am in India.
When people at home ask me what it is that I “do” when I am India…
doing nothing but unraveling the affects and expectations of a stressful culture
Sasha arrived from Moscow two days after me and as soon as he got here we walked out to the beach and watch the sunset filled with people playing music, playing in the sand, spinning staff/poi/hula hoops, doing tai chi and slowly sauntering down the length of the rose colored beach…
and with tongue in cheek we said, “look at all the lazy people”
…all the happy, content and free people
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