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A few weeks ago, a friend of mine asked me to e-mail my thoughts on “Why Have Children?” She is gathering opinions on why financially stable women choose to have children in an age of over-population, birth-control, and spiritual independence? Simply – when you don’t have to get married, have children according to your religion or have children to provide you free labor in the fields – why have them?
I have always wanted children. Either my own or adopting others – the method wasn’t as important to me as having them. And the reason is simple – to affect change. Change in myself, in my children and in those we touch. Children give you lightness, inspiration, humility, frustration, unconditional love, and most important to me – eternity. They ask us to be the best of ourselves as every single action, word spoken, hug given goes on and on and on as they in turn define their own actions, their own voice, their own love and give it to this world. And we watch this evolution of ourselves in themselves to other selves and hope that at some point we have made this world a better place.
After dodging rickshaws, horse-drawn carriages, random cows, countless mopeds, one very angry dog I finally got money out of an ATM on my fifth attempt. I then moved on to determine my lodging in Mysore, after learning that an extended stay at the famed Green Hotel was not possible I rang Shiva (he helps yoga students find long-term apartments, a recommendation from Lizzie). He answered on the first ring and asked me to come by his home in 30 minutes – located two doors down from the Yoga Shala with a sign on it titled “Shiva’s House.” I sat down with him in his office and after 30 seconds of stroking his long beard he looked up and asked slowly “What exactly is it you want?” Hilarious. I could have been on a flying carpet with a genie. I informed him I needed Internet Access and wanted a room with a bathroom in it – shared accommodations, kitchen and TV were negotiable. He continued to reflect and finally picked up the phone to no answer. After a few minutes he showed me his house and said I could rent it if I wanted – full Internet Access, 3 rooms, kitchen, Indian toilet and hot water shower for 6,000 RN ($136) for a one month minimum. Or I could wait until tomorrow and look at the room he was trying to call to see if I prefer that one (apparently nicer accommodations). I said I would love his room but will wait until tomorrow to see the other room to decide. For $135 per month plus $2 per day for food I could live on less than $200 per month here – I think I live on $200 per day in San Francisco? And then I have to remind myself that half this country lives on less than $700 per year.
My dreams of sparse living changed when I signed up for yoga. I arrived at the Shala a bit earlier than the indicated 4:30 sign-up time and was led into the back office by the guard to be signed up by Patthabhi Jois himself. If I didn’t look at his face I could have been doing a deal with Tony Soprano. I pulled out my 26,900 RN ($610) in 500 RN notes and put them in his gold embroidered hands (diamonds bigger than any wife in Houston Texas had!). He informed me that tomorrow, Sunday, was a led class and I should arrive at 5 a.m. I can’t believe this man is 91 years old, he couldn’t pass for 60.
36 hours of travel and I finally arrive in Mysore, India. My intention is to spend the next few weeks doing yoga at Sri K. Pattabhi Jois’ yoga shala and focusing on my volunteer work with Curriki.
After practicing Ashtanga Yoga for the last 8 years I have decided its time to practice the Primary Series at the birthplace. I won’t be allowed to move into the second series (despite finally making it to Ardha Matsyendrasana in the second series with the most inflexible back in the history of yoga) because I can’t not stand up on my own from doing a backbend. This is fine by me…I find primary series soothing and comfortable while second series is full of vulnerability and strange sensations in my lower sacrum (which I will happily put aside for the next month or so as India alone makes me vulnerable and full of strange sensations).
I arrive in Bangalore 4 hours earlier than my taxi is scheduled to pick me up. I decide to dive in to India and wander around outside to search for a coffee and water – a few minutes later I have my own trail of taxi and rick-a-shaw drivers, but this time with no beggars? Already Bangalore seems wealthier than Delhi. My coffee and water mission is accomplished and I pat myself on the back for adjusting so quickly to “India time” and wait in the airport for the next few hours.
Twelve hours later as I write this, I no longer am patting myself on the back. After a four hour ride to Mysore, I checked in to my fancy hotel, waited for 2 more hours for the room to be ready, failed to get money out of 3 ATMs despite my in person conversation with Wells Fargo prior to leaving, failed to sign up for yoga because the shala closed despite saying it was open until 6, failed to get online for the last three hours despite the “IT expert” at the hotel helping me. I must be in India.
Tomorrow my hope is to get money out of the ATM and sign-up for yoga.
I love the signs in India, here is what is on my window. I didn’t capture it today but we passed a truck carrying petrol with a beautiful painting on the back stating “Warning: Highly Inflammable Petrol.” Perhaps an attempt at reverse psychology? If we state its inflammable we won’t blow up?
Oh, speaking of which, I learned today that two terrorists were captured in Mysore this morning??
After a decade of work, I have decided to take a career break. I need a respite, a breather, time to explore shelved ideas ... the concept started out as "something" I was pulled to, a blurry idea off in the future to happen "someday.” The gravity increased over the last few years, evolving into a desire for volunteering, travel in Asia and yoga. The vision was a contradiction to my daily routine – 12 hour work days filled with 50 or more conversations, thousands of miles a year (spent marching along with my fellow soldiers armed with our headsets, pda’s, carry-on luggage and jetlag), intertwined with “alt-tab” every 120 seconds or an unbreakable blackberry addiction anytime I decided to leave the laptop. I am not the first to declare I need a break.
And so I negotiated my departure, sublet my house, put together a rough itinerary and will use this writing as a compass to guide my exploration…
A few weeks ago, a friend of mine asked me to e-mail my thoughts on “Why Have Children?” She is gathering opinions on why financially stable women choose to have children in an age of over-population, birth-control, and spiritual independence? Simply – when you don’t have to get married, have children according to your religion or have children to provide you free labor in the fields – why have them?
