tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2515247027173641993.post7989759499507093677..comments2023-10-16T06:23:18.135-04:00Comments on Yoga for Cynics: Greco-Roman Wrestling of the HeartDr. Jay SWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08631848276936859276noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2515247027173641993.post-3329835029220835572008-11-24T05:23:00.000-05:002008-11-24T05:23:00.000-05:00This post identified beautifully how life has chan...This post identified beautifully how life has changed since 1987. It ranks right up there with the best of the coming-of-age stories I've read. The light and shadows that come from your memory just amaze me.Lydiahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11135393270656573516noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2515247027173641993.post-71808303500614146242008-11-24T04:42:00.000-05:002008-11-24T04:42:00.000-05:00In 1987 I was still an innocent 16 year old - well...In 1987 I was still an innocent 16 year old - well, maybe not as innocent as I should've been still. But wondering, searching and inquiring already, yes...<BR/><BR/>When I was 21, having not lived up to the hopes and dreams my family pinned on my being their best bet to have a child go through university - and also not having parental financial support and therefore not able to afford an overseas trip (which I would have preferred) - I headed up to Sydney. The 'big smoke' in those days compared to Melbourne. <BR/><BR/>I left for various reasons, too long to go into in your comments section (this is already too long) and found myself with a handful of people I knew but otherwise alone in a much bigger place than home. But here, I was truly home. I loved the big bad city immediately...<BR/><BR/>My first place (if you can call a single room with a kitchenette at one end a 'place') was in a building habituated by drug addicts, dealers, hookers and transvestites. Just off the main drag of Darlinghurst, of the perpetual nightlife-party scene-drug land-homosexual haven... tucked away just outside the CBD.<BR/><BR/>I had nothing, certainly not a lot of money, no possessions and not a clue what my life was to become.<BR/><BR/>But I was home. Far away from the place of my birth and my blood kin, where as you say, labels, slings and arrows that were thrown... meant nothing there. <BR/><BR/>And where I could begin to ask myself what it is I really wanted and liked and felt...Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2515247027173641993.post-4629233674018931062008-11-23T17:57:00.000-05:002008-11-23T17:57:00.000-05:00You seem to have spent a vast amount of your youth...You seem to have spent a vast amount of your youth trying to find yourself? And now you are older, you are doing it again? I know the feeling ... we seem to spend our lives going round in circles. Still, anything to recreate the fun/growth times - that way we know we are still alive.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2515247027173641993.post-89583334194450009522008-11-23T16:49:00.000-05:002008-11-23T16:49:00.000-05:00Isn't that the way of it? We need to get out of ou...Isn't that the way of it? We need to get out of our comfort zone, sometimes. To see ourselves from without, in a sense. Glad you enjoyed your trip. More people should try to get away. I'm always surprised at how many people just seem mired in their own hometowns, without any aspirations to ever see or do anything else!Lana Gramlichhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06975996208260144558noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2515247027173641993.post-66840307107434485222008-11-23T14:20:00.000-05:002008-11-23T14:20:00.000-05:00Oh I remember those days of no mobile phones, no c...Oh I remember those days of no mobile phones, no certainty, having to hang about for HOURS or even days because you had no way of communicating changes of plan...I was hitching on and off through various parts of Europe a couple of years later. Strange, intense times!<BR/><BR/>Pssst... I have some tinsel for your blog if you want it. I know you are already snowed under with awards but I felt I had to join in and pelt you with cute little graphics. Had intended to pelt you sooner in fact.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2515247027173641993.post-37772651350052953582008-11-23T09:58:00.000-05:002008-11-23T09:58:00.000-05:00Reading your brilliant blog (I'll give it an award...Reading your brilliant blog (I'll give it an award once I figure out how), it occurred to me that maybe that line, "Where ever you go, there you are" isn't true. Maybe there are places to go where we are freed from the layers of stories, expectations and definitions that define us. And maybe that place isn't just in Greece but inside ourselves, found through practices like yoga...Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2515247027173641993.post-35737825310291706532008-11-23T09:25:00.000-05:002008-11-23T09:25:00.000-05:00sounds lovely. The only place I had that kind of f...sounds lovely. The only place I had that kind of freedom was Germany. I lived in the Med for a while and it didnt work out well to be alone as an American female. Its fun to hitch-hike, to sleep in little rooms in actual homes. And the food. Once someone shared with me a glass of wine from his family's cellar OMG---I have never tasted its equal ever again. It was lovely. Smoked Mussels in pasta, and the Pizzas are nothing like the Cheese Monsters we make in the U.S. I never made it to Greece. Wish I had. <BR/><BR/>I was not literate at all in Germany. It was interesting experiencing total illiteracy. I have never been unable to read anything. I have been reading since I was 5.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2515247027173641993.post-8167326119134985272008-11-23T08:07:00.000-05:002008-11-23T08:07:00.000-05:00If you had headed north instead of south, you migh...If you had headed north instead of south, you might have run into me in Germany. I wore a uniform during the week in Wertheim, but on many weekends I was hitchhiking to other places. I loved being in a place that was both exotic and more normal than I was used to at the same time.<BR/><BR/>And hey, I left school too, but I took a drastic step my parents didn't approve of: I joined the army to get the hell out of NH and back to Europe. The young are insane. I mentioned a few random facts about this when tagged, but maybe this would be food for blogging. Good to climb out of my present and think about the journey that got me here. Least that's what you seem to be doing. Just have to ignore how possibly unyogic such an enterprise is.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2515247027173641993.post-14224280583938228902008-11-23T03:41:00.000-05:002008-11-23T03:41:00.000-05:00Ah yes, the good old days of a gypsy life. My yea...Ah yes, the good old days of a gypsy life. My year in Greece painting was inspired by Miller's Colossus.Yogadawghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06862022808279104780noreply@blogger.com