Yoga in Challenging Times

I am now a contributor to the Health & Harmony blog 🙂 Here is my first post – on how yoga has helped me during this current challenging time! Health & Harmony is a yoga studio owned by a dear friend (a follower of the Simple Yet Complex Journal!), and where I used to practice yoga. It was also where I’d go on Sundays to practice chanting and kirtan, and where I’d have probably started teaching and holding mantra/kirtan sessions if it wasn’t for the current challenges.

Hope you like it!

My grieving heart

So I’ve struggled to grieve and mourn. Sometimes I forget that what I’ve been through is so intense that I need time to deeply feel my sorrow. Sometimes when the pain comes, I feel I want it to go away quickly. I resist. And by resisting, I don’t allow it to be, and it becomes more intense.

Thing is, I spent my childhood feeling my mum’s intense sorrow when she got divorced. She cried and cried, and I had to be there with her. I have sad memories of having to sleep with her, and she’d spoon me or hug me, and would just cry until we fell asleep. I was 9, and I can’t recall for how many months or years her pain and crying carried on. I know she had to grieve – I just wished it wasn’t in front of me all the time or while she was holding me. I also had to grieve my parents’ divorce and the fact that my family was falling apart. I unfortunately didn’t have any space for that, neither had I any support to understand or express what I was feeling. Today it feels as if I’ve done a lot of mourning in my life – however, I’m discovering it wasn’t really me who was grieving back then, at least I wasn’t doing it about my own pain.

It’s as if my mind wants to say ‘Enough of crying’. I sometimes think that I’m making a big deal of it all. That I wasn’t supposed to feel it so intensely, that I wasn’t supposed to miss things, that I was supposed to be bigger than that and just appreciate what the Universe has given me now (beautiful Sicily and a Vedanta retreat). Until I’m reminded of the contrary. So I’m kind of learning now, and although my personal yoga practice has helped me stay grounded and aware, most of the times I have to be reminded by my therapist and my friends that it’s OK to grieve, that it’s OK to have a bad day just because my mind wants to go through every little aspect of what’s happened, and my heart just feels overwhelmed. (I’m so grateful that I have so many beautiful friends helping and supporting me, spending their precious time to call, message and/or video call me. Love you.)

So here it’s, from my grieving heart today: I miss Adelaide. I miss my life in Adelaide. I miss my own bedroom and my housemate, who so dearly had me in her house. I miss my routine, my yoga class on Tuesdays, my chanting with the sanga on Saturdays, the nights out dancing, the dance classes. I miss the people, my friends. I miss the sense of security that that routine gave me. I miss the freedom I always felt in Australia, the fact that I seemed to always know where to go, the homecoming feeling I’ve always had. I miss the man I grew to love in ways I never thought I would. I miss his hug, his touch. I miss his happy face whenever he felt us more connected. I miss his stubbornness, his silly jokes. I miss relaxing by his side and caressing him during the many times he cooked us a meal. I miss, I wholeheartedly miss all of this.

I’ve been revisiting the little poems I’ve written, and below is one that somehow connects to this post. I don’t know exactly when I wrote it, but it was between the date when I got the visa application result and the date of my departure.

When I finally let my guard down
The universe conspired
Against
So it’s time to say goodbye
Again
And again
So much hurt already
Can I have a break?
For once I was thinking of settling down
I’ve found my place
Little Adelaide
And its people with the biggest heart
Why? I question
I try to make sense
Maybe there’s nothing to understand
Don’t overthink, I tell myself
Just live
Just love
Every singe moment
Every single person
Connect
Be open
Be honest

💔❤️

By the waterfall

Here’s a little bilingual poem I wrote on 24 November 2018 while sitting by one of the waterfalls at Waterfall Gully in Adelaide. Nearly one year later, it came to my mind as I am sitting today with myself:

By the waterfall / Aos pés da cachoeira

I can. I believe.
I dream. I achieve.
I hear the sounds of water flowing down.
I hear the sounds of my own emotions
calming down.
I hear the birds. I hear the wind.
I feel my heart. I find peace.

Eu posso, eu acredito
Eu sonho, eu conquisto
Ouço o som das águas caindo
Ouço o som das minhas próprias emoções
se esvaindo
Ouço os pássaros, ouço o vento
E a paz encontro no peito