The engine in my truck blew up on Sunday.

Dark road, music blasting….trudging right along….and then all of a sudden…

Engine. Just. Stops.

My poor little “flaca” has been through a wreck, a facelift, and now some very, very serious gastrointestinal issues.

It’s rather strange how unusually sad this makes me.

She has carried me through some serious times in my life.

The past three months included.

I think she can sense what I’ve been experiencing…..sympathy pains, perhaps?

I too, have currently been through a wreck of sorts….and if you can compare serious gastrointestinal problems to very serious problems of the heart….then…yes…..

“La flaca” is currently experiencing sympathy pains…..

This is the only conclusion I can draw.

Ironically on December 5^th, I received a bittersweet letter in the mail.

Sweet because it reminded me of the inception and bitter because it reminded me of the end…..

Truth is….even the sun must set at some point…..

With light, dark.

With joy, heartache.

With ecstasy, pain.

There is not one without the other.

“When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”Khalil Gibran

I have been living in a whirlwind shit-storm of emotions lately ….elephant sitting on my shoulders…..thoughts constantly racing….world’s been spiraling out from underneath me for quite some time now…..

But I am here.

Now.

And I am calm.

I am awake.

I am able.

And strong…

Even though at times it feels as though I’m falling to pieces….there is a sense of peace that fills me….strength that comes from a distant place….a place I can’t seem to understand.

But it exists….and for this, I am truly grateful.

The people who surround me have slowly become guardian angels.

Or bridges…suspended by strings….crossing mine with impeccable timing.

Some call me every single day to check on me, others send me messages and flowers and love and I can feel the intention….and this fills me…sustains me….nurtures me….

Some are always with me…throughout the day…even at night in my dreams….in my thoughts and in my hopes….my affirmations…..my manifestations.

This fills the holes in my heart…and fights away the nightmares and the pain and the fear.

Often I wonder if I even deserve all of this …..I can’t help but think of how many times I’ve failed.

Failed at giving myself fully to those who needed me and I think of all the times I could have done more….provided….put forth……

I have failed time and time again…over and over…..

Failed at saving others….at saving myself….at giving my all…at resisting temptation….at letting go….

But just like with blacks and whites….there is no success without failure……

And so I accept this….as much as it hurts me….as much as doing the right thing may very well be the hardest thing I have ever done…and as much as it constantly burns me with the regrets…the wishes….the fear….anxiety…..guilt….failure……

There is the now..the present….and it is fully fueled by both the good and the evil…..

One pushing the other like the gears in la flaca…..gripping each other….thrusting forward..…revolving….proceeding…moving onward…..

With each failure…with each regret….with each loss…..

The opportunity to succeed…change…gain.

And so engines are replaced…and wounds turn into scars….and time passes….and life is short…

And I am here.

Now.

With light and love always…..here.

Detachment. And liver.

"Those whose consciousness is unified abandon all attachment to the results of action and attain supreme peace. But those whose desires are fragmented, who are selfishly attached to the results of their work, are bound in everything they do."
Bhagavad Gita

A few years ago, I recall preaching detachment to a good friend of mine who was training for a marathon.
Telling him that the whole point of living fruitfully is enjoying the process more than becoming overly concerned with the outcome, that surrendering to detachment would bring him a newfound appreciation for the present, and on and on...providing nothing short of another Ali-rant...
To which he responded, "I'm sorry Ali, but I don't enjoy the running, the entire time, the ENTIRE time, the only thought that crosses my mind is: "When? Will? This? End?"

While finishing a run or a race has always felt great and provided a huge sense of accomplishment, I was always one to love the actual process of running more than anything else. Even when I was on mile 11 of 13 and every muscle, bone and hair follicle hurt like hell, I’d remind myself that I was racing, that I was running free, that I was healthy, I’d look around at my surroundings, cheer for other runners, pretend to be racing against the person in front of me and scoot up next to her until I’d pass her (sometimes), I’d think of Magda and know that at that very moment, I was there, running free, without a care, and that she was running scared. And I’d run faster and harder, and push, and keep thinking about her until before I knew it I was on the last stretch of my run and I’d storm through the finish line, enjoying every single second as it happened.
Running always provided me with a perfect opportunity to practice detachment from outcomes and to let go of attachment altogether.
Because in the end, I had to go through the process in order to reach the result and truthfully, the end never belonged to me anyway.
It never really does.

Everything can change.

Or.
It can all stay the same.

The magic is that we never know.
And so isn’t attachment to outcomes counterproductive?

For most, including myself in more recent months, becoming detached from the result in important situations can be really, excruciatingly difficult.
Especially when those outcomes can change your whole life.

My question is, couldn’t ANY outcome essentially change your WHOLE life?

Think about it.
ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN.
AT ANY POINT.

If this is true (which it is) why is it SO hard to be detached?
Why are we so selfish and consumed with the product of our work? Why do we feel the need to hold on? To claim? To pronounce? Why do we feel the need to be certain? Why do we believe in faith? Why do we clench onto things so tightly? Why do we tear ourselves apart to make the right choices for “ourselves”? Why do we spend so much time watching ourselves agonize and argue and analyze and think?

The only answer I can come up with is…..
Fear.

Recently, a friend of mine asked me to name one thing that I’m afraid of.
(Like Spiders..not like a nuclear holocaust)
And of course, my brain automatically went to extremely frightening, deep-rooted, complicated thoughts as opposed to fear of eating certain foods, or jumping out of airplanes….
But after a while, I came up with the fact that if I had to choose one food that I can honestly say I’m afraid of eating, it would absolutely positively be liver.
I. Am. Most. Definitely. Afraid. Of. Liver.

Fear is a fucked up thing.
It is debilitating.
It is paralyzing.
It consumes.
And convinces.
It fights and fights making conquering it nearly impossible.
We all have it.
Most of us are guided by it.

I, personally, have a strong desire to kick it in the balls and watch it cower down in front of me as I have done in front of it so many times.
But, that’s just me.

So, how, does one kick said fear in the balls?
And doesn’t relinquishing attachment to the outcome go hand in hand with this task?

I mean, be cautious and use your brain….like, don’t go eating spiders, jumping off of an airplane, while telling your boss that you’re quitting your job and moving to Fiji, or anything….but I keep telling myself that if I detach (more than just a little), if I trust myself and my gut, and if I grow some balls (figuratively), then maybe conquering certain fears will become a reality.

For now….

I’ll consider the eating liver thing.

Yogi-Nemesis

So there's a yoga teacher at the shala that I have tried to avoid at all costs.

It's hard to put my finger on it, but I took her class a couple moths ago, and there is something....

…..something that just rubs me the wrong way about her.

To clarify, she is a great teacher.

Well versed in the asanas and the anatomy, has relevant and insightful spiritual topics that she touches on throughout the class, she smiles, plays good music, and laughs, and jokes, and encourages, and pushes.

Overall, she knows what she's doing and she fills her classes.

But there is this little nagging pinch inside of my stomach that tells me something....something is just not right between us.

And so ever since I stumbled upon her class, I have tried incredibly hard to avoid it.

I double, triple check the schedule to make sure I am not taking her class, I rearrange meetings and dates so that I can attend earlier or later classes, I wake up extra early and cancel important events so that I can intentionally take any other class that isn't hers.

Funny things happen when you try to avoid certain people.

I would say that nine out of ten times that I’ve tried to take another class, "she" would be subbing "at the last minute", or "covering because the assigned teacher was stuck in traffic", etc.

I would try excessively hard to stay away and somehow always found myself facing her.

Divine intervention.

Or something like that.

Reluctantly, I would stay and ignore the burning in my tummy. I'd focus on tending to my own practice while pushing aside the overwhelming feeling that made me want to start screaming and take off running  in the middle of class.

I came to the conclusion that something wanted me there…that there was a reason why I had to be in her class. There was something in her class I had to learn, something I had to hear her say…..there was a reason why I couldn’t get away from her.

It is believed that what we don’t like about others are the exact things we don’t like about ourselves.

That we see the reflection of our very own negative properties through other people.

It is also believed that every single person, whether you believe them to be positives or negatives are strategically placed in your life at the precise moment in order to remind you of a lesson- some important, others trivial, all of them vital.

“According to Plato, we don’t learn anything. Our soul has lived so many lives that we know everything. Teachers can only remind us of what we already know.”

Interesting.

So here I am, covered in sweat, and my yogi-nemesis teacher approaches me to tell me that my toe placement is wrong.

As every muscle in my body is shaking, as she has made us hold warrior III for what seems to be an eternity, and my quads burn like hell, she repeats “your toe placement is wrong….shift your weight forward.” I think: “I used to TEACH toe placement, lady, I know where my weight should be distributed, I know these things already, and I know my posture is fine.” And I can feel the burn from my thighs crawl up in through the lining of my stomach and the only thing I want to do is grab my mat, throw it at the wall and leave. Because I know….I am right.

As I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, beet red, legs shaking, arms shaking, I realize that my toes, are in fact, pushed too far back. And that I do, in fact, have to shift my weight forward.  Shit.

And in the matter of seconds, I realize that it is my very own arrogance that I am reflecting onto the way my teacher tells me to alter my pose. I swallow. Sweat drips from my nose.

As the redness dissipates from my face, I shift my weight forward, and my heart calms.

Just like that.

She is me. I am her.

This is the yoke, the connection.

Yoga.

Passion's Pit

I have been passion-hungry for quite some time...trying to find it in every day things, searching for the right career, relationships, the perfect path to fulfill my need for the stuff, becoming more and more attracted to the obscure, art, music, the dark alleys in which they reside, and the people who are full of anger, sadness, extreme joy, euphoria, love, sex, radical heat.....the all-encompassing human emotion.....

I've always been incredibly connected to these creatures, the artists, authors, creators, musicians, drug addicts, psychopaths, and I have undoubtedly attracted these people as well over the course of my life. Could be the fact that ever since I can remember my house was full of them. All friends of my father, with their strange clothes and thick cigarette breath, some smelled like patchouli, others of French perfume laced with marijuana smoke. I remember bouncing around in my pj's from group to group listening in on their stories until my step mother would grab me by the hand and through a clenched smile, tell me to get to bed.

I was always intrigued, but I never seemed to find a completely comfortable place there with them.

Lately, in between the monotony of routine, the lethargy, melancholy, and the bouts of misplacement, I have been starving for the absolute insanity that passion can bring.

In a smaller, safer scale, of course. ;)

I have been searching for the things that ignite this passion within my soul.

Other than love, I have always found that this search has provided nothing but a void and a greater attraction to the people who have found it with ease.

I have gone crazy, once in my life, as far as I can remember. Crazy enough to let it all go, throw my hands up in the air and throw it all away, every last bit, and then carefully, with extreme diligence piece it all back together.

A friend of mine recently used this quote in one of his posts:

"Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead." - Charles Bukowski

After I read it, I was immediately thrown back into that time, when I was most vulnerable, insecure, absolutely and totally gone, insane, crazy, hurt, used, misled, broken, and I remember the feeling of being..............

alive.

A few years later, I remember being in the ocean, pushed under by a wave, feeling free, happy, completely out of breath and once again absolutely helpless and vulnerable and feeling total joy.

Once again, I felt.....alive.

I have often envisioned being constantly surrounded by the intense energy of overly passionate people, allowing myself to let go and be carried away into the clouds, submersing myself into the throws of passion and losing everything once again.

The thought is entirely, absolutely terrifying.

But nice, for a short moment.

Truth is, I am without a doubt, a chicken shit.

I guess this is my way of paying my respects to, highlighting and congratulating those brave souls who are willing to live and die so passionately over and over again throughout their lives. 

Maybe it is them, who truly know life.  Maybe they are the enlightened ones.

The fearless ones.

And the search continues.

Yoga and the art of mixing tears with sweat...

Back when I was teaching yoga, I submersed myself in the physical aspect of the practice: making sure my students' alignment was pristine, that I understood the anatomy of the postures, that I was able to get into a headstand in the middle of the room with ease, because once I did, I could "teach with confidence."
I would beat myself up for not being able to perfect that arm balance or for being overly tired while standing in a warrior pose. My life revolved around being the "perfect" teacher. Making the perfect impression.
Looking back now, I realize how selfish I was ....I realize now that this is why I left teaching...
I always used the excuse that I felt like I wasn't ready to teach yet, that I felt unprepared, inadequate, that I became too busy, too preoccupied to focus on my students and their practices. I felt like I was letting them down. So I stopped teaching and let go of my own practice all together as well...attending the occasional class or workshop but all the while, leaving my heart at home, not realizing that I should have been clenching on to both my heart and my practice with dear life.
We all have a way to connect with ourselves. With our souls and our spirituality.
Some use religion, or surfing, or retreats, or drugs......most people haven't found that connection....
I know I often feel like I am still searching for the absolute connection to my very own spirit.
For me, yoga has been my fail-proof way to provide, at the very least, a vehicle in the search.
Yoga, in itself, is not THE connection...but it has always provided me with a tool to open the door to continue the search.
Because, what's left without the search?
When I recently came back from Spain, I promised myself to become reacquainted with my yoga practice. And so I have....forcing myself to "get on the mat" (also my new mantra)...
Only this time, my outlook has been different. I no longer look to get into a side crow or twisted scissors, my flamingo looks more like a stork than anything else. My headstand is wobbly as hell and I almost took out the guy standing next to me in last night's class while attempting a tri-pod. Truth is, I have tons of work to do, both on the inside and out. I have years of abuse to deal with, years of sticky, gross mental guck to remove, all of which cause me to lose balance, strength, focus....
This "stuff" is tough to get rid of, it is useless but it lingers...
The hardest part of working to remove said "stuff" is letting go of control, letting go of those thoughts that make you want to hold on to the past, those mental pictures of the people and the places that you think are "yours," quieting the mental chatter that tells you: "you should have done this or you shouldn't have done that", all these thoughts are insignificant because the past is gone, and as hard as it is to let go, that's the first step to opening up to receive....the first step to fully understanding who you are, what your purpose is, what you want, and who you were meant to be. We put so much focus in to our careers, our reputations, into the judgements that people pass onto us, into our mistakes, both our failures and how many times we have succeeded. Every time I "get on the mat" I set an intention to "let go and to send light."
This intention is set for every single aspect of my life, every little thing that I believe in, even the most important things....I intend to let go of and send light to.....this way, there is no longer a selfish motive for me to hold on....truth is, if it's yours, it'll be yours whether you struggle to hold on to it or let it go.
I believe in balance, I believe in love, I believe in the universe, and in people. Call me naive, or strange, or overly dramatic, but these are the things I believe in. Even through the craziness that has been my life, I still believe in people because we are all the same....all part of the same big ball of energy. Every action, every word continues to create this big ball of energy....with each thought, each action, we are and continue to be.

Historically, I have been known to act spontaneously, and have been warned time and time again as to how this can be dangerous.
I have tried feverishly to change this about myself, but should I? Isn't spontaneity honest?
Recently, it was pointed out to me that "having a tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than from fears based on past experience" is a "symptom of spiritual awakening."

I still have to simmer in that statement for a little while....

Spontaneous or not, I also believe in telling people how you truly feel, I believe that when you have a connection with someone you should explore it and enjoy it, I believe that when you love someone, you should want to be there for them, care for them and tell them this is how you feel because those words (all words - both negative or positive) have an effect on the entire universe. Even when you feel like your heart aches every time you think of someone, or when you wake up out of a dead sleep because the connection is so strong, these feelings are all energy...energy that helps us understand our surroundings, that helps us to grow, to evolve. It is important for people to know they are appreciated because without that appreciation, we would just live. We would not be alive. There's a saying that (roughly) says: The sun rises each day, and it continues to rise, but without someone admiring it and saying "look how beautiful the sun rise is" then all it does is just rise.
We have the ability to appreciate....to express....to decide....to let go.....we have the ability to turn things around, to love, to believe, to search.
So I search. And I start with yoga.
Lately, hot yoga, to be more specific.....
The kind of yoga that turns your mat into a slip and slide and your entire body is drenched in sweat.
When you're in downward facing dog, the sweat pours out of you like an open faucet, but you continue to breathe, and move, and link and think, and try to let go....
I often cry during my practice, not because of how hot it is in there or how bad the postures burn, but because of how much I am letting go and how hard it is for me to focus, I cry for lost love and betrayal, for things I've done and haven't done, there are tears that cover my face, and luckily, I can control the sobbing enough to where it could sound like ujjayi breathing to my neighbor. This has become an art. To drown tears in sweat...it's a good thing it's 107 degrees in there.

The spiritual aspect of yoga has always been intriguing to me and was originally the main reason I began teaching. The story of Shiva and Shakti and their union, the Bhagavad Gita, the Pradipika, and listening to Joy and Julian talk about Chakras and Nadis, all led me to want to further my practice and share my passion and knowledge with my students. I know now that maybe it wasn't the right time in my life for me to do that.

I dream of teaching again and what it would be like to give 100% of myself to my students, to be able to be fully free of judgment and of ego...but I often correct myself that if that were the case, if I gave 100% and I'd be totally free of judgment and ego, then wouldn't I cease to exist?
The one thing I always shared with my students was the belief that we are all a work in progress...every single second, movement, thought, breath, is an opportunity to move forward, to find balance.

And it's okay to be spontaneous, to ENJOY things, to SAY things, to SHARE things with one another, because after all, we are all the same.

La Familia

In an unfotunate set of circumstances, I was heart broken and betrayed by the woman who raised me.
She is the person whom I consider to be the most influential in my life, and she is part of the reason why I'm writing this post today.
She is the reason I know that evil exists.
Although I never let her sway my thoughts and the trust and love I feel for perfect strangers, she has taught me that without dark, there is no light. She taught me how to love. She taught me how to grieve.....how to grieve for my very own life. She taught me how to lie, how to braid my hair, brush my teeth, how to curtsy for the Queen.
...most importantly, she has taught me that blood is not always necessarily thicker than water. Matter of fact, in my journey, it almost never is.
Every single person in my life has an impact. Every single one. The strangers accross the street, the person I glanced at in the courtroom, my step mother, my aunts, cousins, the epileptic woman on trial for murder, the homeless guy who denied me when I offered money, my exes, my old friends.....
In my experience, the people who have had the biggest influence in my life, both positive and negative, have been those who are not blood related.
I chose it this way, back when I was creating the amazing, humorous, sarcastic, ironic, painful, beautiful blue print of my life. I chose my ridiculously perfect parents, imperfections included. My sweet mother. My charming and tempermental gypsy father, who taught me it was okay to let the wind fill my sails and take me wherever and whenever it may. I chose my attractive, feminine, alluring, deceitful, betraying step mother. I chose every single one of the friends who have molded me, the three men I've fallen in love with, my drug-addict ex boyfriend, my crazy cool bosses, my room mate who held my hand through the most tragic and painful times in my life.....
All of these people, I chose...way before I came to this life. I chose them as my Karma, as my joy, as my pain, I chose them to help me grow....transcend....receive.
My mom has a hard time letting go of people who cause her harm...she uses the "this is my family" excuse.
What I wish I could relay to her, is that here, in this life, we have the luxury of creating our own family. Blood has no place unless you want it to. Here, you create your own blood. Here, you create your own reality, you have so much control and power over your own life.......it amazes me when people don't realize this. It's sad when we don't realize that every single choice we make affects the weave of our universe, starting with us and traveling through every soul, every atom, every speck of dust in this entire ball of energy we call life.
This is why, I know that even though someone raises you and pretends to love you as if you were their own, you are allowed to remove them from your life. There are no rules here, this is your life. This is your family. Your circle. These are the souls you are choosing to travel with in your next lifetime(s). CHOOSE WISELY.
Give perfect strangers a chance....you never know who will forever change you.
The crazy thing is that my mom doesn't even realize that she's the one who taught me this incredibly valuble lesson when she looked around at my birthday dinner at all of my loyal friends, who have my best interest at heart, who LOVE me unconditionally, who are ALWAYS present...always there through thick, through thin and everything in between, who are perfect in every way even with all their imperfections, who think I am perfect even with mine, and she said to me: "Lali, I always say we have such a small family....I was wrong, we have a HUGE family. This is our family."
And she was so right....so perfectly right.
I've learned that we choose our poison. And if we don't remove it, <quick>, we lose sight, we stop growing...we lose.....we die.
This is the reason why, in this life, in this crazy crazy world, where we dedicate an entire day to donuts, where people snort bath salts to get high and literally eat other people's faces off, I embrace every single new relationship both positive and negative, why I follow up, check in, why I genuinely care, because I believe that through the insanity, we continue to build our family, our circle, and in turn, we build and discover ourselves.
And isn't that our ultimate goal?