3 Weeks!

I've been here three weeks. In three weeks, I've taken to getting up way before dawn to practice yoga. I have opened up my broken heart in an empathy circle. I surrender to God every morning and each morning my days blossom into something that I couldn't have imagined if I had weeks of preparation. That's a powerful lesson to learn. I've never really trusted the Divine to deliver. I really believed that God helps those who help themselves. And so I did my best. And I waited. And waited. And waited. Then I gave up and lost my mind. Now I wonder if it's possible to be too blessed. Not that I'm complaining, but I look at my life and where I am and have to catch my breath. Today, I went to Wal-Mart. I hate that store. It's too bright. Overwhelming, but I got through it and got some plastic bins because my tent is getting cluttered and for the first time in my whole life I actually care what my living space feels like when I get home at the end of the day. Last night my friend, Kyla, spent the night with me so we could go to yoga together the next day. I watched her marvel at how I live. It's true.

My roughing it isn't very rough. I don't even want it another way. I don't know if I wrote this before, but this part of my life both looks and feels like the part in the fairy tale when the princess lives in the woods and birds and squirrels keep her company and entertained until her prince comes. I live in this cute little green tent with a big double bed futon in it and still have room to walk around. I've figured out how to keep it warm yet keep air ciruclating and I go to sleep the glorious sound of frogs singng. If I'd tried to formulate what would have made me happiest, I would not have guessed this at all. I would have imagined money, a gorgeous man or at least something like that. But as I was talking this morning to my friend, I have everything I asked for in my life.

I have love. I am rich. I live someplace wonderful. Moths tickle my neck. I'm getting to be a very good golf-cart driver even if I get distracted. I sleep well. I dream lovely dreams. This afternoon I rolled down a hill laughing from the core of my being. I know this is only the begining, but even if this is all my life ever is, it's more than enough. I'm that happy. On the reals.

Also, I know it's taking me a long time to respond to the wonderful mail I've gotten here. But trying to find ugly stationary with cow-eyed kittens is proving harder than I'd imagined. Go figure.

Mud. Mud. Mud. Mud. Mud. Mud. Mud. Mud. Mud.

Really. It's not a complaint. It's just a statement of fact. It rains almost everyday here. So, there is so much mud on the trail to the bathroom. I keep cycling between utter acceptance of the mud and complete exasperation at the mud. These cycles fluctuate often on the walk to the toilet or shower. It's most annoying after showering. I've also been here long enough to get sort of weird about the food. It's delicious, but sometimes, I just want to eat on the couch. Not walk lots of some distance to eat. That's complaining.

But I feel like I have to complain just to feel sort of normal. I've really taken to the Kundalini yoga and it increases feelings of ecstasy. So, mostly I'm pretty blissful. Until I have to pee in the middle of the night. I hold it in mostly which isn't good, but these are the things that you live with when you live outside.

My tent, Hilary, feels very much like a home. I've moved in more here than I have anywhere in my memory. I have a futon now. I futon on a frame. A friend gave it to me for the summer so she could sleep on the earth. We're both very happy with the arrangement.

Now, I've dived more deeply into the personal transformation work. I'm getting over the crush incident and finding myself kind of in love with my yoga teacher. It fascinates me. I think the two are related. I have a mission statement. I work to control my breathing. And I'm in a band that I really don't care about. It's a silly thing. One member is very invested in it. She's writing songs. I'm more comfortable singing in public now than I have in a while. But I don't really relish the idea of singing songs about vegetarian food. I've done that before. Death Tarte, anyone?

There's a sweatlodge tonight I'm working, but am finding that I'm working through my intent as if I'm going anyway. I go on long walks. I get up before for and climb up hill to do yoga. I feel like I do more in one day here than I did in a week before. I can't believe I've been here three weeks.

Three weeks ago I arrived with a pedicure and a manicure and enough stuff to last me for five months. Now I'm a hippie who lives in the mud. I have never been happier.

Two Weeks In. Here's a List...

1. Talking to bugs.

I do it all the time. I explain why I'm moving them from point A to B. I explain that everything is okay. I mean them no harm. It's actually better for them outside with the trees than with me and the stubborn scent of tea tree oil. I even talk to the ones I end up killing. I tell them that I didn't intend for things to end up this way. That I tried to give them every reasonable way out, but I'm sleepy and have no time to wait for a mosquito to decide when to leave my tent.

2. Trying to clean my tent.

I used to be a sloppy person. I doubt I will be again. Trying to sweep mulch out of a tent when I am surrounded by nature and mud and muddy nature and more mud and hay--well, it's an exercise in futility. Still, I do it. I do it because I can get lots of it out. I remind myself of that fact as I track more in.

3. Being on a hugging basis with someone whose name you do not know.

Yes. It's true. I have hugged nearly everyone on this campus. I only know about a third of their names. I know everyone's life story. I've cried with nearly everyone, but names. And when I ask their name again, no one minds. It's true. I can recognize someone's energy and their face, but not their name. I can say that here. It's okay.

4. Often, I seem like the least flaky person here.

This boggles my mind somewhat. I'm pretty out there, yet, I've met people in their sixties who don't have addresses or telephone numbers. I don't judge. It just fascinates me. It fascinates me because I realize more and more that I am less drawn to completely removing myself from mainstream culture. What I prefer is making the "real" world a little bit more like Omega.

5. Everyone farts in yoga class

6. Words fail at adequately processing a typical day here.

So much has gone on over the last few days. Today I spent in workshop on peaceful communication. It's changing me. Last night, I started coming up with my own mission statement. The lead singer of Sweet Honey on the Rock said hello to me as we walked by each other and I haven't even begun to scratch the surface to what my days are like. I try to journal, but I find myself eager instead to sleep and let my dreams tell me my story.

7. I have no idea what I'll be like when I'm done here.

8. I'm afraid I'll never want to leave.

It's so safe here. I've never in all my life felt so safe anywhere at any time. It's so secure. I'm a bit frightened. I can see why people opt to only return to society for a few months each year just to return. I imagine that each subsequent year loses its luster, but even on a rotten day, this place is better than most. Still, I don't imagine myself making this my lifestyle. I can see the value of my time here. I'm learning so much. The work of transformation at this level is best undertaken someplace removed and safe. I get that. But I wonder, how much more would I want to change come October? I don't know. For now, I can't imagine being anywhere else.

9. It takes me nearly two hours to eat.

I've taken to eating much less. I eat mindfully. Prayerfully. It takes a long time. I love it. I hope the habit sticks. I'm sure it will. It takes 40 days to build a habit. I'll be here for 5 months. I eat super slow.

10. Thinking that you want something can make it happen.

I'm getting a bed. Today or tomorrow at the latest. A loaner. Still, it's better than sleeping on the ground. Not that I minded. It was kinda nice just being that close to the earth, but a bed will rule.

11. Getting up in the middle of the night to go pee in the rain is already old.

And I still love being here.

Yet Another Gloriously Humbling Moment.

So, this morning I woke up at three to go to sadhadna. It's a two hour session where you go do some yoga and then chant for an hour. This was my second time and I love it. I also admit that I get a certain amount of spiritual seeker cred from myself by getting up long before the sun to consecrate my soul as a servant of G-d. Good stuff.

Mostly, other than the actually class, is the walk there. To get there I have to walk across the entire campus and then go uphill in the dark. I feel very holy. Obnoxiously holy as I climb up this crazy trail in the pitch dark with only my headlamp to guide me. And wouldn't you know it that this morning it was pouring rain. Buckets of water came down from the sky as I climbed up over the piles of wet leaves. The roots, random sticks and various other hazards to my body in order to align it with it's Divine purpose. I could have lit a cathedral with my breath, I felt so holy. The woman I was walking with did not agree.

"Are you sure it's this way? I could have sworn there was a road."

"It's okay. I know it by feel."

We'd tried the road we knew of but it only went to the meditation sanctuary. Only about half way up the trail toward where we needed to go. She had to trust me and my oh, so unsafe trail. But I'd gotten there before. I knew where I was going even tough I didn't know. It's an amazing feeling to just climb in the dark knowing that only my legs know where I'm going. I felt reassured. Not so for my companion.

"Maybe we need to go this way."

I did not listen. I climbed like the serious seeker I am. I climbed knowing that I have been chosen by G-d for some amazing purpose. I climbed all the while editing what the passage would look like in my spiritual memoir. I wasn't really walking in my big, blue rain suit. I was floating. Floating on G-d energy. That and pure crazy, ego-maniacal attachment to holiness.

We get to the Hillhouse where the class was being held. It was a powerful session. Afterwards, the whole class walked down together down the gravel road that takes you safely in a nice curve from the top of the hill to the bottom. It was so funny to me.

I get off on making this stuff hard. I keep reading these books that tell me that the Truth is simple. Not easy, but simple. But to feed my enormous ego, I'd rather walk uphill in the rain when it's so dark that I can barely see in front of me rather than try to find an easier, saner way of doing something.

That's why I love this place. I can find myself faced with my crap, but just rather than giving myself a hard time, I just notice it. It's funny. Common. Humbling and well worth the price of admission.

What a Difference a Week Makes...

Monday night, after a harrowing night of golf cart derby and scrubbing toilets, it started to rain. Hard. Cold, rainy rain that comes down in buckets. That kind of rain. The evening's work went well enough, but the girl I was working with was very unsure of herself and therefore controlling. It annoyed me. That my period had just started didn't help. Also, I am a smiley person, but I don't choose to ignore the unpleasant things of life. During our shift, I saw a little mouse dying beside the art hut. There was nothing to be done, the mouse was just dying. It lay there taking its last, huge breaths. It was sad and fascinating. I pointed it out to her. She replied, "How do you know it's dying? Don't put that in my mind." I tuned her out for the rest of the evening, but it made me think about how I seek to control my life and how I hate the unpleasantness, too. It's not a trait I relish.

Well, the ridiculously long shift finally ended, I set out in the downpour only to find that I'd forgotten my headlamp and flashlight at home. Great. It's dark. It's pouring. I'm on the rag and irritated both with the girl I'd just worked with, but mostly with myself. All I want to do is go to sleep. And then it happened. I don't know if I consciously thought about it, but I do remember just shrugging and setting off in the dark towards the sound of the frogs singing. I gave up. Or I was willing to give up. It was a beautiful walk. I couldn't see anything. I just felt the ground. I prayed lots. But after a few minutes, I even stopped that because I knew I was perfectly safe. The worst thing that could happen was that I could die. And that seemed unlikely, so I walked. I made it. Without falling, without getting poison ivy and without going into someone else's tent. I just made.

Still, I was wet, and whiny. So I got inside and started grumbling about the weather. That I'd have to walk to the bathroom over and over in the rain. Why is my life such a vale of tears? This went on for a while. For the past six months, whenever I feel this way, I read from the book of Job. I love the part when G-d lights into Job for feeling sorry for himself and afterwards, Job repents in dust and ashes and all ends well. That story sings to me. Well, I read it that night. I read a Psalm or two, too, but fell into a fitful petulant sleep to the sound of rain, rain and more rain.

I woke up to the boom of thunder. I've heard thunder all my life. There's something quite different about hearing thunder in a house and hearing it in a vinyl bag surrounded by trees that can get struck by lightening and crush you. Very different. Each crash boomed long and loud. It was scary. And then I got it. To say I got it doesn't do the moment justice. I've heard about surrender before. I've surrendered before, but not like this. I realized that I was in a vinyl bag held to the ground with hollow metals poles staked with aluminum hooks and plastic stakes. And all around me trees whipped around and thunder boomed and lightening struck. The terror vanished. I thanked G-d for being the Supreme Being in charge and fell into a deep, dreamless utterly peaceful sleep.

Look Out!

I'm driving the golf cart. Holy Heck on wheels. It's been quite the day. I've been a mosquito killing, cookie eating, golf cart driving machine who nearly took out a Subaru and a stop sign. And yes, it's that time of the month.

The Moth/Mo Idiocy

It's almost been a week since I got here, and I've gotten quite good at the removal of bugs from my tent. I can grab a mosquito by the leg, open the tent a few inches and send it out into the wild to bite another day. Unless they only live a day. All I need now is a pair of chopsticks, and then look out. I'll catch flies and start calling everyone grasshopper and have a wonderful time. Or so I thought until last night. Last night, I did not spend the night alone.

I got in late. I watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding with some fellow Omegaians. It was nice. It was after midnight. Woo hoo! Tired. I was tired. I had laughed really hard that day. For an hour. And then I watched a funny movie. I did laundry. I arranged to move my tent. Things were hopping. I was eager to settle into the ground and have myself a good sleep. And then I saw him.

This moth. This wood colored moth. He was pretty. I give him that, but I was tired. I just wanted to go to sleep. All I could think of was that he was going to fly into my moth or my nose or both and do mothy things to my eyes while I slept. He was going to drink my body oil and take my cellphone and make calls and do all sorts of annoying things that unwanted tent guests are proned to do. I was determined to get him out. And quickly.

So, headlamp wrapped on my head, I tried to catch Mothman. I tried cupping him in my hands. It didn't work. I tried catching him in a waterbottle. I tried napkins, clothes, begging, ambushes--you name it. I did it. I even tried to kill him.

"Look, dude, this tent ain't big enough for the both of us. I tried to play nice, but you won't play ball. So, You's gots ta die." I tried to clap him dead.

I swear he looked me dead in the face and/or headlamp and flew right at me. I ran around my tent flapping my arms. The campus is silent after ten, so I was screaming on the inside. I lunged at him again. He lunged at me. This went on for about TWENTY MINUTES. Me trying to talk him down. Him trying to kill me.

I gave up. I slept just fine. Maybe stupid people shouldn't seek enlightenment.