seven. Ishi and the Elephant.

“Slowly, progressively, at your own time, come back to the group and when you are ready, open your eyes.”  This line is the line that I will always remember Ishi by. He is a smaller man always cloaked in white pants and a matching shirt that never fails   to catch the passing breeze. This phrase is how Ishi brings his students out of meditation without fail. Many times it was so faint it felt like a whispers seaping into my ears and pulling my conscious mind back to this world.

He studies the healing power of the yogas and Vipassana meditation and had for the 14 years before I met him during a retreat in the Thai islands. I know very little about his life before coming to the island but, I do know this: Ishi was born in Greece, but moved to South America when he is a boy.  He once was a successful businessman, an engineer, and a black belt in karate. A series of unfortunate events left him realizing that his wealth was just a temporary gift from the universe (as all things are)-ones that for him was quickly taken away.

Ishi was a man of stories and it’s how he taught us lessons. He learned many of these from his spiritual leaders, especially Osho.

The story below was one that has stuck with me.

“ When I was a boy I would go to the circus. I would admire how magnificently large the elephants were.  I would daydream about elephants, I would dream that one day I would be as strong and mysterious as they are. One day as I was leaving the circus I peeked my head around a curtain, and there I saw an elephant- but something else caught my eye. This huge creature was being held there by the chain around his ankle and a tiny stick wedged in the shallow ground. “Just by a stick?” I thought.  I couldn’t wrap my mind around why such a large animal wouldn’t just pull the stick out of the ground and run back to the freedom that was surely more conducive to a happy life of an elephant then the circus! I started to ask many people why this was so and no one seemed to have an answer.

Finally, one day after the Friday night show I snuck behind the curtain again and asked the trainer this question. “ Why doesn’t the elephant use it’s strength to pull the stick from the ground?” The trainer knelt down and explained that when the elephant was a baby, they started to wrap the chain around its leg. Back then, since it was much smaller- it did not have the strength to pull the stick from the ground. He explained that the elephant tried to get loose from the chains for days, but eventually it believed the idea that it wasn’t strong enough and stopped trying. Even as the elephant got older and grew in wisdom and weight, the small stick still keeps it from freedom, not because it cannot move the stick- but because it simply believes that it cannot, and that belief has created a new reality for the elephants life; one that has kept it in chains.”

It’s hard for me sometimes to see myself as the strong spirit I have become. I have most assuredly  grown from the many experiences the world has thrown at me- forcing me at times to learn more wisdom and gain more strength.

It’s also hard for me at times to remember that the chains I may have been too small to break away from as a child are only still tied around my spirit because I still choose to believe in my inability to overcome them. As soon as I stop believing it, my reality will transform, and I will be free.

It is also very clear to me how simple the solutions are to most “challenges” in my life. In my future, I am going to try to see my sticks, and pull them out of the ground. Much like those elephants, it would only take one moment of courage to create a new ending, no matter how many years some idea has kept you from growing.

six. Marcus

Our group of free-spirits from all corners of the world had been trying to build a fire on that beach for quite awhile. They finally succumbed to the challenge after seeing the lightening hit the water on the black ocean waters that was touching their toes. The storm was rolling in quickly and the wind kicked sand in our eyes. Watching a storm moving towards me with nothing blocking the view of its rage was simply incredible. And so, as the collective ran to find shelter in the bungalow down the beach, but I hesitated. I saw a man and two dogs sitting near the water as if it were the middle of a sunny day.

I found myself plopped next to him and I asked if he minded. With a sweet voice covered in a heavy german accent, he answered, “ Every thing is better when you can share it.”

So, we sat for a long while.

Soon we noticed tiny specs on the beach start to glow, which meant the plankton was something we could see that night. I mentioned that we should go for a swim since the waters were gaining waves, and the plankton gaining light and we dove in. Marcus was his name- and for the next 20 minutes Marcus and I were totally present in that moment. The warm water, the glow from the plankton, the loud cracks from the thunder, the clouds swirling in front of the moon, and the wet wind hitting our cheeks; calming and frightening at the same time. When we finally climbed out we talked about how a storm like that has a certain way of reminding you of how powerless you over things outside of yourself no matter how hard you try. 

Marcus was an older man, maybe 65. He had sun weathered skin and blue wire framed glasses. He wore a linen shirt and his white hair was bright against the night. When he smiled he only did so with one side of his mouth, but his eyes made up for it. He was genuine and his presence was strong. Marcus shared with me pieces of his life that got him to the island and they echoed many stories I have heard while I take this adventure around the world. He was in love once and had children. He followed the pressures of his parents instead of the guidance of his heart and started what would become a successful business. In his country of Germany, he was known wearing a suit and tie everyday and always thinking about the next big project. He was respected and his family was proud of him and all of his hard work. Years passed and as his children grew up, so did he and his wife grow out of love. “We made time for everything else except for each other, and one day when we woke up, we realized we didn’t know each other anymore.” He told me that with time they have become good friends and he is grateful to have spent so many years with her. And so now, here he was- on Koh Phangan island in Thailand, in a beautiful bungalow on the beach trying to reconnect with himself, with the divine, with things that mattered... things that mattered to him anyway.

I told him how much courage that took to leave a relationship and make some big changes without knowing how it would turn out. He agreed and reminded me that life isn’t over; until it ‘s over and “dealing with being unhappy” is not the way he wanted to live the rest of his days. He also mentioned how much easier it is for him to breathe in a linen shirt versus a tie.

We realized at that moment not a single rain drop has touched us. We smiled at the irony and I thought for a moment maybe our energy and love for this weather built a bubble around us so we could watch it longer.

I moved close to Marcus, kissed him on the cheek and put my arm around him. He squeezed back. Thanks for being here was what we both meant. On my motorbike ride home I realized how many of us are truly trying to figure out what makes us feel happy and then what makes us STAY happy. Those of us that aren’t are simply “dealing with being unhappy”.  Maybe there are a few of us who have already figured it out.

I did this unhappy routine for so many years, and now I too found myself in Thailand- continuing the search for what is true for my happiness as I begin to create a new life for myself- one full of joy, laughter, flexibility, surrender, and love.

It felt really warming to know Marcus was looking too and that many people on that island were there for the same reason.  Our worlds, no matter where you are from very easily become cluttered with the noises of loud expectations, ringing phones and the clanging of material focused goals. So cluttered in fact that it takes an island on the other side of the world to slow some of us down (or maybe that’s just how far I needed to travel to stop hearing the noise.) In our journey, in our searches, I cross paths with others who nudge us along a little faster, and make it easier to be gentle with myself in that process. Marcus was one of those nudges for me.  As I left the island today, I found myself hoping to run into him again some day.

five. The Girl Who Shines in Her Sari

Towfika is a girl from a far away land. She sometimes wears colorful handmade sari’s with beautiful gems on them. She has an infectious laugh, a beautiful smile, long black hair that shines when the sun reflects off of it. I could have listened for hours when she spoke about her culture of Islam, and the studied understanding she had behind her beliefs. She spoke with  such pride about her culture and with deep love for her family and country. At 22 years of age she ventured to a village in Cambodia on the Vietnam border and our paths crossed for the first time.  For her, it was Ramadan- so Towfika fasted everyday from sunrise to sunset. She woke up in the middle of the night to pray to her God whom she loved with every inch of her soul, and it was easy to see she could feel every inch of his love too. Regardless of her fast, she participated in every task that was presented to her. Coming from Bangladesh-  this Cambodian village was sure to present many first time experiences for her. She dove right in to the new waters and didn’t stop swimming untill she left one month later. She played futbol with the boys, even though she was a female and this was not custom for her. She danced with our friends in the strobe lights of a late night club. She cooked for the first time after only ever watching her mother, aunts, and grandmother cook the food she missed so much. She tried Khmer foods, met new people, listened to new ideas. 

In a primarily Buddhist country, there were times when people didn’t understand her customs. This country like so many others sees Islam as a foreign religion and the ignorant and hateful stereotypes exist here too. Towfika was questioned constantly about her values and actions and she always answered with patience, honesty, and grace.

Needless to say, I adored Towfika and our time together. On this month long journey I found myself with 4 Interns all incredibly dedicated to becoming better communicators that had the courage to begin new conversations in their male dominated cultures and to create change by looking inward first. I was so proud of them, and I loved all of them for the many lessons they taught me. But, it is Towfika that taught me the strongest lesson of all. 

One afternoon, Towfika was sitting on the edge of my bed. With tears in her eyes she told me that it hurt her that I never gave her the encouragment that I gave the other girls. My immediate reaction was:  "WHAT??? That’s crazy, I have been admiring you for weeks now. You are wonderful and confident- surely you know that I think that Towfika! "

But, our job in listening is not to think of responses that we can give while someone else is sharing their stories with us. Our job is simply to hear what another is saying. How did a situation make THEM feel, and why are they feeling that way? One of the biggest reminders my girls heard from me often was “ feelings are never wrong.” We feel the way we feel because the pieces of our past and where we are at in processing those pieces in the present. 

I practiced these rules of mine more in that moment then another time in the program. It was hard not to get defensive at first. 

I thanked  her for sharing with me and told her that I was happy we had created a space to be honest about how we feel. It meant this relationship was much deeper then surface level. That alone warmed my heart and can be hard to find in a seemingly disconnected world.

And you know what? She helped me see myself more. I thought about her words for days after that. I criticized my teaching style. I couldn’t believe one of my students felt this way because being an encourager is one of my strengths. Remembering to be gentle with myself, and choosing to dig deeper I realized that I saw Towfika as confident. I saw her as strong and this resulted in the idea (subconsciously) that she may not need as much verbal support as others. It seems I had decided she was like me. As soon as I did that- in many ways I stopped viewing her for who she was. I filled in many pieces of her story with my own. I stopped being curious. I realized I sometimes place people in this category or another and then treat them accordingly; treat them as I feel they need to be treated based on the fragments I know about them, instead of asking them what’s right for them. Maybe more importantly, when I do  that I stop asking what they need.

In that moment I realized how much I could identify with her feelings. The comment, “you are strong so it will be easy for you” is one that I have resented my whole life. It is a comment that always seems to come at a time when I needed encouragement and acknowledgement the most that life is just hard for everyone sometimes. It’s hard for everyone sometimes no matter what side of yourself you choose to show to the world most often.

What box am I putting people in? What harm am I causing their heart, and their development by shoving them in there? Because Towfika had the courage to tell me how that was affecting her- I have become much more aware of when I am doing this. My interactions seem to be more authentic since then. It takes pressure off me to guess what people need since I will not know if I do not ask. 

Towfika is a young woman from Bangladesh that I admire. Not only  because of who she so fully all of the time, but because of this gift she has taught me that will continue to free me from judgement and fill those spaces with more love instead.

To have met her and shared time with her in that small village in Cambodia, will change my path forever.