Hi Patrick here again:
God, what do I know about treatments? I've had two massages in my life -- both from Julie at Flow Yoga. She treats me good. But I am here, in India, and I've been told that this place can help me with back and neck pain caused by pre-existing injuries. They're not the only pre-existing injuries I have. There are whole bunches, most of which I don't really count, from a lifetime of competitive hockey. Three concussions, a partially town MCL, scores of sprains, endless bruises, fully lashed whips, and so on. Sticks to the face, torn flesh. All for glory and not a bit regretted. Hockey's a game of instant karma, and I gave as much as I received.
When Gerhard Schmid (Jennifer Ellen's teacher and a master Kalari practitioner himself) came to Salt Lake City, I sat down for a consultation. I presented him, in the accustomed fashion with a complete list of injuries and illnesses from my past, with detail on my current troubles, which include a bit of anxiety. He told me, and I'd never heard this before but it made sense, that head trauma can cause lasting anxiety. I suppose because you are protecting your body's vital thinking-machine from further, possibly debilitating injury. Fair enough. But he said that he wasn't in town for long enough to fix the problem. He suggested I go to India. It was a somewhat wild supposition that I'd actually materialize here back then, but I am here and so it goes.
So. I go in to meet the head Kalari and treatment dude here, in Kannur. Same list of injuries and woes. Treatments are prescribed in spurts of Malayalam, a bit of figuring with the head cocked sideways, some wobbling and some English. I don't know how it works or if it all isn't just some sort of elaborate improvisation. It can certainly appear that way sometimes here.
I was scheduled several times for treatments and actually ended up starting yesterday, with one night's notice. That is the way here and much of life is about learning to sink in, to relax, to accept.
I went in for the first day of treatment and laid belly-down on a straw mat. Wearing nearly nothing. Sherifka asked me to remind him of my ailments. Halfway through he waved me off. We were ready to begin. Warm oil coated my backside as four hands worked up and down. Throughout my legs and arms, quick flicking with the thumbs and broad strokes worked deep into tissue and prepared my body. There was some of what I'd traditionally associate with massage, but mostly it felt very foreign. I couldn't place quite what they were doing or why, as best I tried. And it's not worth asking. I mean, perhaps you could have a conversation with them for academic engrossment, but I am learning to trust the process.
Day one ended with me more or less feeling like I had received a sort of weak sauce. Not much to write home about. Later in the day, as I followed the direction to just rest for the day, not sleep, not go into the hot sun, and just relax…. well I found that my muscles were mysteriously sore. My hunger was vigorous. I ate a lot for breakfast, had a hearty snack and feasted for dinner. I also got a glimpse of what I'm like spending time with myself. Doing nothing. Learning to relax. What an art form this is!! What lifelong adventure this discovery alone will surely embark. It brings to mind thoughts of "wow, what do I do at home," "how do I forget about myself in my regular life," and "how do you relax." Good heavens.
Day two. Sleeping wasn't plentiful for me, and I woke up thinking I had barely enough time to get ready. I had plenty, and spend a few restful minutes before the treatment reading a tourism book on the region from 1999, and enveloping myself in an appreciation of the vast diversity of even this region of this state of this nation alone. Good heavens, is India vast! I can't even imagine the depth of a whole nation when even this oft-forgotten corner is more than I can get my head around, more healing, spiritual and body knowledge than could clean out the entire United States. Or what do I know, maybe I'm just falling in love with this place.
But in any adventure, they got me into the treatment room and I laid down again. This day's massage was a slight variation on what I'd experienced the day before. Not quite the same. There was some interesting massage involving the lifting of the base of my spine: my tailbone. I won't go into it. It was… interesting and I felt a bit vulnerable. Throughout the day (and we're talking about the present day now), I really felt the soreness in my body, my arms and my legs now. Like I had been exerting myself against some unknown outside objects.
Today for my daylong relaxation, I ready some of the Autobiography of a Yogi, slowly. I played cards with some of the fellow students here, and did some leisurely talking. There's also some time for quite a bit of reflection and meditation, but I won't get into too much of that. There's always more to sort out, more to learn by, more ways to grow.
To tomorrow,
Patrick
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Holy Holy!
Wow, what an incredible 10 days since we arrived.
I arrived healthy as a horse & slowly began practice. On the 2nd day, I started to feel a tickle- I had gotten Natalie's virus that she imported here from the U.S.. By day 4, I was D-O-W-N, day 6 I couldn't breathe fully & my fever was raging. Hallucinations, memory loss, fits of coughing that lasted 2 minutes or more continuously, sinuses on fire, and to top it all off, a 1 ton weight on my chest making it impossible to breathe. I was SCARED. Being sick in India not like being sick in the U.S.. I could feel a sense that if things went any further wrong, this might really be the end for me. I know it sounds dramatic, but trust me, it was dramatic. 9 Ayurvedic medicines, 6 Western medicines, 3 doctors & 2 hospitals later, I finally turned the corner. Three days of rest, and now I am back to life.
Gerhard, Sherifka, Patrick, Nicole, Ryan and Natalie were all really great, checking in on me and making sure that I had what I needed, letting me sleep 12 hours a day & 10 hours at night. I am grateful to them for keeping me positive even when they were nervous about my declining condition. Often, steadiness is just the right tonic to give strength, and they were all so steady.
I am especially grateful to Patrick, who has kept up the communication in the blog and through facebook. He has such a great attitude & enthusiasm to spare for the experiences here. We've nicknamed him Curious George, as he has a tendencey to wander into places he shouldn't and with his huge smile and bigger heart, the people here just welcome him in with open arms (and they often feed him, too). He'll continue to post from time to time.
In Ayurveda and Yoga, it is believed that illness, especially intense illness is a purging of not only physical toxins, but of karmas, or of things in your life that simply need to go. I have felt this deeply, and each day I have been meditating on letting go of everything in my life. Total surrender. Let everything fall away, and let the potential for re-creation begin to flow through me again. These are the big lessons that India has to teach, and I am so glad to be laying in her lap once again.
ॐ नमः शिवाय, ॐ क्रीम कलिकिय्ह नमः
I arrived healthy as a horse & slowly began practice. On the 2nd day, I started to feel a tickle- I had gotten Natalie's virus that she imported here from the U.S.. By day 4, I was D-O-W-N, day 6 I couldn't breathe fully & my fever was raging. Hallucinations, memory loss, fits of coughing that lasted 2 minutes or more continuously, sinuses on fire, and to top it all off, a 1 ton weight on my chest making it impossible to breathe. I was SCARED. Being sick in India not like being sick in the U.S.. I could feel a sense that if things went any further wrong, this might really be the end for me. I know it sounds dramatic, but trust me, it was dramatic. 9 Ayurvedic medicines, 6 Western medicines, 3 doctors & 2 hospitals later, I finally turned the corner. Three days of rest, and now I am back to life.
Gerhard, Sherifka, Patrick, Nicole, Ryan and Natalie were all really great, checking in on me and making sure that I had what I needed, letting me sleep 12 hours a day & 10 hours at night. I am grateful to them for keeping me positive even when they were nervous about my declining condition. Often, steadiness is just the right tonic to give strength, and they were all so steady.
I am especially grateful to Patrick, who has kept up the communication in the blog and through facebook. He has such a great attitude & enthusiasm to spare for the experiences here. We've nicknamed him Curious George, as he has a tendencey to wander into places he shouldn't and with his huge smile and bigger heart, the people here just welcome him in with open arms (and they often feed him, too). He'll continue to post from time to time.
In Ayurveda and Yoga, it is believed that illness, especially intense illness is a purging of not only physical toxins, but of karmas, or of things in your life that simply need to go. I have felt this deeply, and each day I have been meditating on letting go of everything in my life. Total surrender. Let everything fall away, and let the potential for re-creation begin to flow through me again. These are the big lessons that India has to teach, and I am so glad to be laying in her lap once again.
ॐ नमः शिवाय, ॐ क्रीम कलिकिय्ह नमः
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Sickness, fasting and more practice
Hi,
Patrick again here. Jennifer Ellen is recovering well and is in good spirits today. I wrote this a couple days ago as an update to our adventures. But it's mostly about me. :-)
A few days ago I accidentally slept through the morning practice. When I sauntered out, unbeknownst to me, at 10am, I saw my practice mates and mentioned that I might not be going to practice. Feeling sick. I thought they hadn't gone yet. Oh well. I took the day as a rest day to make sure I was over the coughing that, at one time another, plagued us all, to varying degrees, except for Nicole, who hasn't been sick at all. To my memory, I mostly read that day.
The next day, we all had off. I elected to follow the suggestions of our new housemate Gerhard, who has been practicing Kalari for 9 years and has been to Kerala many, many times. He said to fast. Drink only water for one day. So I did that. Well, water and dasmoola, this sweet, somewhat fungas-y paste that is good for the health of the throat. Right on, ayurveda. I'd been fingering jars of the stuff for seven days now and have really grown up a taste for it. Every half an hour I scoop a finger tip of it out of the jar and eat it down. So -- fasting. Whewwww. Never had I done this before -- not eating for an entire day. I know many of the readers of the Flow Yoga blog will maybe think this is silly. Maybe not. But I have never fasted. Botched attempts at purging with quack (sp) tea -- yes. We will not get into that now. For much of the day, I obsessed about food -- other people eating it, the varieties of food and their tastiness. Thoughts of specific foods jumped in my head when I passed a banana, or the box of cereal I brought as filler in my under-stuffed suitcase. Or the jar of whey protein I brought for the same reason. Or any of the absolutely delightful foods that our house cook, Laksmitaji (sp), prepares for us. Mmmmm, so much of it looked good. I noticed how often, even when not eating, the conversation among us turns to food. What we ate, what we're going to be eating, what we enjoy eating for snacks, tasty deserts, places to eat in Salt Lake (a favorite subject of mine, by the way), and the list goes on. The hunger came in waves. I am told that for experienced fasters (say, people who fast one day a month or something), this phenomenon of craving is greatly lessened. And for fasters who fast, say, once a year for seven days, that the hard days are the first three. After that, allegedly you have great energy and strength. They told me that my digestive fires are some of the strongest energy I have in my body, and that when I give them a break from working on food, that they can go about the business of attacking illness more vigorously, and can generally sweep the body, scrubbing out toxins and repairing tissues. Much of my head did not believe much of what I was being told. But a better part of me know that everything is worth a try, and that SO OFTEN in life, the best thing to do is give up and follow advice from someone who has experience, and has some qualities that you admire. This is the case with Gerhard, and many of my fellow students. So I listened.
The next day -- I thought I'd be feeling woozy, too much so to practice. But I awoke refreshed. Hungry for sure. But that banana tasted great! And I got to go to practice feeling spry and invigorated. The sick feeling was was out of my body. And I hope it'll stay that way.
For the morning practice today, we worked on Southern style -- two forms. Both are very rapid, very quick blocking, kicking, striking and turning. They are some of my favorite new forms we've done. We also tackled the Fire form of Shiva (I think that's the one and often confuse the names of Shiva and Shakti).
For evening practice, a major highlight was going with Rajeef, one of our instructors and a very happy, very fun person to be around, to the Kalari on back of his motorcycle. And the ride back was amazing. Smiling, waving, and hanging my arms off the back and sides of the motorcycle, I felt like a good will ambassador for all, receiving loads of healthy smiles and head-wobbles from the people we passed on the streets. The ride came to a wonderful conclusion as we turned down a side street on the way home. We turned right square into the setting sun, falling over the ocean. It doesn't get old. From there, we turned left, and speeded down the road along the sea -- the Arabian Sea -- as the sun set, I smiled, extended my arms out, and waved like the sick, sane, wild and little child I am.
Patrick again here. Jennifer Ellen is recovering well and is in good spirits today. I wrote this a couple days ago as an update to our adventures. But it's mostly about me. :-)
A few days ago I accidentally slept through the morning practice. When I sauntered out, unbeknownst to me, at 10am, I saw my practice mates and mentioned that I might not be going to practice. Feeling sick. I thought they hadn't gone yet. Oh well. I took the day as a rest day to make sure I was over the coughing that, at one time another, plagued us all, to varying degrees, except for Nicole, who hasn't been sick at all. To my memory, I mostly read that day.
The next day, we all had off. I elected to follow the suggestions of our new housemate Gerhard, who has been practicing Kalari for 9 years and has been to Kerala many, many times. He said to fast. Drink only water for one day. So I did that. Well, water and dasmoola, this sweet, somewhat fungas-y paste that is good for the health of the throat. Right on, ayurveda. I'd been fingering jars of the stuff for seven days now and have really grown up a taste for it. Every half an hour I scoop a finger tip of it out of the jar and eat it down. So -- fasting. Whewwww. Never had I done this before -- not eating for an entire day. I know many of the readers of the Flow Yoga blog will maybe think this is silly. Maybe not. But I have never fasted. Botched attempts at purging with quack (sp) tea -- yes. We will not get into that now. For much of the day, I obsessed about food -- other people eating it, the varieties of food and their tastiness. Thoughts of specific foods jumped in my head when I passed a banana, or the box of cereal I brought as filler in my under-stuffed suitcase. Or the jar of whey protein I brought for the same reason. Or any of the absolutely delightful foods that our house cook, Laksmitaji (sp), prepares for us. Mmmmm, so much of it looked good. I noticed how often, even when not eating, the conversation among us turns to food. What we ate, what we're going to be eating, what we enjoy eating for snacks, tasty deserts, places to eat in Salt Lake (a favorite subject of mine, by the way), and the list goes on. The hunger came in waves. I am told that for experienced fasters (say, people who fast one day a month or something), this phenomenon of craving is greatly lessened. And for fasters who fast, say, once a year for seven days, that the hard days are the first three. After that, allegedly you have great energy and strength. They told me that my digestive fires are some of the strongest energy I have in my body, and that when I give them a break from working on food, that they can go about the business of attacking illness more vigorously, and can generally sweep the body, scrubbing out toxins and repairing tissues. Much of my head did not believe much of what I was being told. But a better part of me know that everything is worth a try, and that SO OFTEN in life, the best thing to do is give up and follow advice from someone who has experience, and has some qualities that you admire. This is the case with Gerhard, and many of my fellow students. So I listened.
The next day -- I thought I'd be feeling woozy, too much so to practice. But I awoke refreshed. Hungry for sure. But that banana tasted great! And I got to go to practice feeling spry and invigorated. The sick feeling was was out of my body. And I hope it'll stay that way.
For the morning practice today, we worked on Southern style -- two forms. Both are very rapid, very quick blocking, kicking, striking and turning. They are some of my favorite new forms we've done. We also tackled the Fire form of Shiva (I think that's the one and often confuse the names of Shiva and Shakti).
For evening practice, a major highlight was going with Rajeef, one of our instructors and a very happy, very fun person to be around, to the Kalari on back of his motorcycle. And the ride back was amazing. Smiling, waving, and hanging my arms off the back and sides of the motorcycle, I felt like a good will ambassador for all, receiving loads of healthy smiles and head-wobbles from the people we passed on the streets. The ride came to a wonderful conclusion as we turned down a side street on the way home. We turned right square into the setting sun, falling over the ocean. It doesn't get old. From there, we turned left, and speeded down the road along the sea -- the Arabian Sea -- as the sun set, I smiled, extended my arms out, and waved like the sick, sane, wild and little child I am.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
In Kerala!!
Hello everybody! We all made it safe here to Kerala, India by way of planes, trains and automobiles. No kidding. And here the driving is a bit wild, always beeping and honking and driving on the left side of the road, sometimes no lane dividers. But, you know, it's halfway around the world and the driving style is only the beginning, the mere surface of what beautiful differences and similarities await us each day.
Jennifer Ellen's a bit sick right now but doing fine -- so I'm (Patrick Commiskey) writing our first blog entry on her behalf. Perhaps I could share for you some of my first experiences of what it is like to be living now in Kannur, India.
We are right on the beach. Well. There's a road in front of our house that separates the sand and shells from our door. We can see the beach from our roof, and the waves, and at night, the setting sun. The sunsets here haven't been dramatic, colorful, or rich in shading or design. The sun has just lowered on the horizon, and then a few clicks above the watery arc, it just disappears. We can see this from our roof. We've watched it from the large granite retainer rocks along the road. And we can be swimming and see this too.
The sun's become a large part of our experience here. The sun is very strong, and the heat is hot. Mixed with the humidity, it's left us clamoring for water, sweating almost constantly, and adopting a much more tropical disposition when sitting, reclining or lying down. Even at night it is hot. But I'm learning that by moving my bed near the window, I can capture a bit of sea breeze, just enough to wash me to sleep.
Kalari practice is tough. I hit my right ankle and left toe today, and have general soreness in my hamstrings, which, despite prior physical exercise, I must not have actually used before. The kalari pit is red. Red with clay, and it is dug some number of feet into the ground, so that when you are standing in it, your feet become red, and everywhere you touch your sweaty body becomes a blood-like painting. And you can see the sun and hear life going on around you because, although the kalari pit is dug into the ground, the sides of it still creep up over the surface, and the roof is set off a few feet from the side walls.
Some of the students here are oiling their bodies before practice -- this apparently helps the student remain cool in temperature and composition during practice. I haven't experienced it myself, since my health isn't 100% from travelling.
The teachers are all nice and I love the other students here. The food is amazing -- three meals a day provided for us of exquisite taste, health and variety -- and our laundry has been cleaned promptly once every day or two.
My clothing attire is very different than it is in the United States. For starters, it is January and I'm sweating constantly. So, sandals only. And then instead of pants or shorts we are given wraps of cloth called lungis. These lungis require no underwear, and it is similar to wearing around a very cool, and very breezy shower towel... all... day.... long. Very comfortable. And I've been wearing t-shirts and white tank tops around the house.
I'm going to sign off for now. I don't know when, or if, I'll be updating again. But I feel good about putting some kind of good vibrations out there onto the Internet about our happenings here in this wonderful little coast town. Peaceful, happy and growing.
Signing off from the Happy House,
Patrick
Jennifer Ellen's a bit sick right now but doing fine -- so I'm (Patrick Commiskey) writing our first blog entry on her behalf. Perhaps I could share for you some of my first experiences of what it is like to be living now in Kannur, India.
We are right on the beach. Well. There's a road in front of our house that separates the sand and shells from our door. We can see the beach from our roof, and the waves, and at night, the setting sun. The sunsets here haven't been dramatic, colorful, or rich in shading or design. The sun has just lowered on the horizon, and then a few clicks above the watery arc, it just disappears. We can see this from our roof. We've watched it from the large granite retainer rocks along the road. And we can be swimming and see this too.
The sun's become a large part of our experience here. The sun is very strong, and the heat is hot. Mixed with the humidity, it's left us clamoring for water, sweating almost constantly, and adopting a much more tropical disposition when sitting, reclining or lying down. Even at night it is hot. But I'm learning that by moving my bed near the window, I can capture a bit of sea breeze, just enough to wash me to sleep.
Kalari practice is tough. I hit my right ankle and left toe today, and have general soreness in my hamstrings, which, despite prior physical exercise, I must not have actually used before. The kalari pit is red. Red with clay, and it is dug some number of feet into the ground, so that when you are standing in it, your feet become red, and everywhere you touch your sweaty body becomes a blood-like painting. And you can see the sun and hear life going on around you because, although the kalari pit is dug into the ground, the sides of it still creep up over the surface, and the roof is set off a few feet from the side walls.
Some of the students here are oiling their bodies before practice -- this apparently helps the student remain cool in temperature and composition during practice. I haven't experienced it myself, since my health isn't 100% from travelling.
The teachers are all nice and I love the other students here. The food is amazing -- three meals a day provided for us of exquisite taste, health and variety -- and our laundry has been cleaned promptly once every day or two.
My clothing attire is very different than it is in the United States. For starters, it is January and I'm sweating constantly. So, sandals only. And then instead of pants or shorts we are given wraps of cloth called lungis. These lungis require no underwear, and it is similar to wearing around a very cool, and very breezy shower towel... all... day.... long. Very comfortable. And I've been wearing t-shirts and white tank tops around the house.
I'm going to sign off for now. I don't know when, or if, I'll be updating again. But I feel good about putting some kind of good vibrations out there onto the Internet about our happenings here in this wonderful little coast town. Peaceful, happy and growing.
Signing off from the Happy House,
Patrick
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Bliggity Bloggity Shmiggity Shmog...
Okay, so I am TERRIBLE at blogging. I admit it, full disclosure, I stink. BUT....
With all this New Year stuff floating around like H1N1, I think I have caught a 'recommit to the blog' bug. I am hoping to share adventures in India on this blog (I leave on the 16th- YAY!), as well as keeping in touch with yoga adventures, adventures with Buttercup the wonder dog, and adventures in life in general.
So stay tuned, I promise to share more fully in the New Year. Here's to a fantastic 2010 filled with great expansion, humor and a bunch of love.
Namaste.
With all this New Year stuff floating around like H1N1, I think I have caught a 'recommit to the blog' bug. I am hoping to share adventures in India on this blog (I leave on the 16th- YAY!), as well as keeping in touch with yoga adventures, adventures with Buttercup the wonder dog, and adventures in life in general.
So stay tuned, I promise to share more fully in the New Year. Here's to a fantastic 2010 filled with great expansion, humor and a bunch of love.
Namaste.
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