Varkala - 8 January 2009

I’ve moved from the cliff above the beach to well, I’m not sure where. I’m on a road, as opposed to the numerous dirt tracks that crisscross this place. It’s very quiet, all I can hear are crickets and the rare rickshaw or motorbike. I’m a 15 or 20 minute walk to the beach below the cliff, depending on my route and how many times I get lost, or a 5 minute walk to the Black Beach, which is a tiny slice of beach with black sand north of the cliff/strip and is pretty much non commercial. I’ve been in and out eight or nine times and can’t find the same route to the cliff and back twice. This place is *definitely* not on a grid and there are many blind dead end paths. Today, walking along a dirt path under coconut palms, lost, I realized I live here, in the jungle. Truly. It’s a nice realization.

It’s been healing for me to be here. It’s an uncanny combination of past and present and bodes well for my future. I often feel totally disconnected from various past segments of my life. They are so vastly different from each other and there feels like there’s no continuity nor any going back. Living here, in a place that feels so much like Myrtle Beach, where I have the best memories of my married life, raising my children and spending quality time as a family, yet still being in India, is allowing me integrate my past with my present and shows me possibilities of living fully integrated with all things I love.

Tonight, I sat in the surf, on the sand, and chanted a mala of Gayatri mantra as the sun sunk in and out of clouds and finally into the sea in a dazzling display of red. It so reminded me of sitting in my reclining lawn chair in the surf, like I did countless times at Myrtle Beach, moving back when the incoming tide knocked the chair over. Tonight, I moved back when the breakers ganged up on me. The beach is such that mostly the waves break twice, once out deep and then again around knee depth, again, like Myrtle Beach. Then there were the sneaky ones that broke a third time, right on me and spun me around and knocked me over. And then there were the even sneakier ones that came around from the back and tried to drag me out to sea, with me giggling, of course. I think it’s one of life’s greatest pleasures to sit in the surf and another of life’s greatest pleasures to chant Gayatri to the sunrise or sunset. To combine them is beyond exquisite. I didn’t even care that sand was going just everywhere. There was a 4 year old boy playing naked in the surf beside me and I recognized we were the same: totally free and joy filled :)

There is constant music in the open air restaurants along the cliff. Last night, dinner was accompanied by a live classical Indian music concert. Tonight was blues night at the same restaurant. I dined to Tracey Chapman at a different restaurant, listening to a CD that we listened to over and over on our drive down to Florida in 1990 for a girls and kids only trip. That was the first chink in the wall of my self-made prison. I remember when my best friend at the time, Tammy, first mentioned the possibility of us taking the kids to Florida for a week without our husbands. My first thought was, He’ll never allow me to go. Tammy is nothing if not persistent and she talked about it enough for me to get my nerve up to bring it up to my husband. Over time, with her urging, he warmed up to the idea. I remember standing on the Cocoa Beach one night, looking up at the stars and kicking the surf with my feet, singing Elton John’s Can You Feel The Love Tonight from The Lion King, looking up at the stars and marveling at the fact that I was in Florida on my own. That little slice of freedom was so sweet!

And tonight, I’m writing this in India. On my own. Totally free. I just got in at 1:10am after having a beer with Susan, the proprietor, and some of the guests of The Bohemian Masala, a brand new resort with authentic tribal huts and many other sweet features, including hammocks and a restaurant with a fire pit. There is great feminine energy there and Susan reminds me of a VooDoo priestess.

I was restless in my room around 11:30 and wandered over there. I went under the thatched roof area and asked if there was any beer left and Susan said, Oh, it’s you! I walk through there sometimes looking for the beach and the cliff and we had a nice chat the other day. It’s nice to be memorable :)

My last traveling companion moved on yesterday. This is the first time I’ve been alone since mid December, almost a month. I loved traveling with her and hanging out here at the beach. We share a similar history. We were both street smart kids, hanging out in drug and alcohol circles in our early teens, had unsatisfactory marriages, raised kids, found our spiritual paths and found ourselves with bunks next to each other in a dorm with 34 other women at Amma’s ashram. I love how the Universe keeps delivering very special people to me at just the right time. Talking with her here has also helped me integrate those various parts of my life. That said, I’m relishing my alone time. I like having the light on in the room at 1:30am, typing on my computer without disturbing anyone. It feels good to be alone.

Class started today. It’s Multimedia for Web Design this term, the last class I need to get my certificate. The final is to tell a story using Flash, creating the art, audio and video ourselves. I’m certain it will be an India story, but I don’t know which one just yet. I love graphics and audio and video. This is going to be so much fun!

Being here and doing Western type things is helping me adjust to the transition of this journey into the next phase in the West. I’m cultivating my tan, shopping, listening to good music, dining on good food, sipping cocktails and listening to the waves crash on the shore. I’m watching episodes of Gray’s Anatomy on my computer late at night. I’m playing with photos and designing banners and updating websites during the day. I’m doing headstands and yoga and meditating on the beach. It’s hot and sunny every day and I can wear a bathing suit and camisole tops. I looked at a picture I took of myself the night before I left Seattle and then looked in the mirror and the difference is striking. My whole face and head has changed shape. My forearms, wrists and hands haven’t felt like this since my early twenties. I’m shifting into a place of looking forward to going home. I was definitely not ready at the end of December, so I’m glad I extended the trip a month. Varkala is such a nice surprise, I had no idea it would be like this when I decided to come here.