Autobiography in five chapters

Some time ago, I read the below ‘Autobiography in Five Short Chapters’ on someone’s blog and I smiled at the concise, clean and clear presentation being able to bring such great truth. Who needs another 400 page book on the shelf if all can be summed up this way:

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

Chapter 1

I walk down the street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I fall in.

I am lost … I am helpless.

It isn’t my fault.

It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter 2

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I pretend I don’t see it.

I fall in again.

I can’t believe I am in the same place.

But it isn’t my fault.

It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter 3

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I see it is there.

I still fall in … it’s a habit.

My eyes are open.

I know where I am.

It is my fault.

I get out immediately.

Chapter 4

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I walk around it.

Chapter 5

I walk down another street.

~ Portia Nelson ~

(There’s a Hole in My Sidewalk)

Every one is on a journey; sometimes gently crushing the leaves underneath one’s feet, sometimes hiking steep and rocky hills, sometimes gripping with all the might in the toes to not slip from an icy trail down, sometimes walking as slow as a turtle, sometimes running as fast as the wind, down the main street in a village, or a broad avenue with willows planted on either side, a tiny creepy alley in an old neighborhood or a colorful and peaceful little lane in the old city heart. Sometimes we walk in water, sometimes we walk in mud, sometimes we walk in elephant’s dung, and sometimes we walk high heeled on a red carpet. Throughout our journey, there are many ways we walk. And along with us, there are many walking their ways. And even if we walk down the same street every day, those who walk with us are not the same.

And so… as we walk down the street, and the other walks down the street, we all may see that there is a hole in the sidewalk. However, we each are on our own journey and the way you deal with the hole in the sidewalk will be different from the way the person who happens to be walking down the street with you deals with it. Even when it seems evident to you that the best way to walk is to walk down another street, the other person may fall in after all, or pretend not to see it, or may still fall in habitually. Every person on the street is in a different chapter of his walk. And until he is in chapter five, he will walk through all the previous chapters. Not because you did not warn him, or because you did not call him to stop, but because it is his journey and he will only come to chapter five after passing all the previous ones. And all you can do is to enclose the person with compassion (not pity!) for where the person is in his journey.

My 2011

I AM GRATEFUL. I am grateful for my 2011. I am grateful for every single individual I have crossed paths with this year. I am grateful for the new people I have met this year and I am grateful for bonding stronger with the people I have known for longer. I am grateful for every lesson, every surprise, every challenge, and every adventure on my path. I am grateful for all the smiles I have exchanged with you, all the laughter we have shared, the tears I’ve witnessed and shed. I am grateful for the moments of feeling vulnerable and the moments of feeling strong. I am grateful for being able to feel heart breaks and all the joys to my heart. I am grateful for all the conversations we have exchanged, and all the moments we have spent. I am grateful for the many gatherings over food or beverage during which we exchanged drips and drops of our own lives. I am grateful for your welcoming hugs and your graceful goodbye’s. I am grateful to be able to have witnessed each one of your journeys and I am grateful for your presence to witness mine. I am grateful for you.

2011 was a great year. Many of my dreams have come true. At the beginning of this year, I stared at my business plan, pulling my hair out of my head, wondering where I had the guts to put together a plan I frankly had doubts that I was able to execute. I mean, someone else probably could, but me? At the end of this first year of being in operation, I am proud of myself that I managed to execute my business strategy faster than I had projected, and accordingly met the projected financial targets faster than I had expected. But the biggest achievement is not quantifiable in monetary terms: I put action to the words of my business mission and executed a strategy that I believe in with all my heart: using the profits generated on the commercial services to fund community services, of which breast cancer patients and survivors became beneficiaries.

2011 was a great year, yet it was by far the most challenging year. Perhaps because I have become much more aware with where I am at, at every moment during the year, the experience became so much more intense. Being witness to six women around me walking their healing journeys from breast cancer has been unbearably painful – at times, I have asked myself “why her? why not me?”, not that I would wish it upon myself, but in the moments of despair which repeated itself six times and more, I’d wished I could take over from them and give them a break. The turning point came when in witnessing their journeys, I realized that I wasn’t at all helpful by spiraling down in my emotions. At one point, I was so sick and tired of myself being unhelpful, that I took a step back and looked. And when I did that, I saw them; living inspirations of courage, strength, faith, hope, compassion, resilience and abundant love. I am deeply grateful for these six women for allowing me to be a witness to their journeys. I am deeply grateful for the subsequent 48 women for allowing me to share the practice of yoga with them. I am deeply grateful for all of them for having touched my heart and spirit so profoundly. I celebrate their grace. I celebrate their spirit. I celebrate their authenticity. I celebrate their journeys. I celebrate them.

Managing, operating and executing every aspect of my own business has definitely required more persistence, discipline and dedication from me than whichever job before. Used to over-achieving, over-performing and being overly perfectionist, running my own business taught me important lessons about the parameters under which I have operated for as long as I have known. The measurement for “success”, “accomplishment”, “achievement” was not so much about how I was perceived by the world (e.g. whether I was a good teacher or not, whether students liked what I taught or not, whether I was managing my business well or not), it was about leveling my infinite passion for teaching with my perfectionist way of meticulously managing every aspect of my business- and personal life. In the give and take game that comes around every balancing and rebalancing act, this was a new awareness. And this… has been one of my successes, a ground-breaking, foundations-shaking new experience I have achieved in 2011.

Reflecting on 2011, apart from all the things I am grateful for that I mentioned in the beginning, I am most grateful for coming to terms with myself. Born of parents with mixed Asian descent and raised in Europe, it’s been an explorative journey for a long time to find resonance with a culture, a country, a place, a nation. In short: the identity issues that every adolescent knows of have never departed from me :) 2011 was a turning point. In October 2010, I was working hard on my visa matters to allow me to stay in this city on an investor permit. A dear friend (TYW, thank you) asked me casually “why do you care? I thought you wanted to leave, why putting all this effort in if you don’t care about staying?” – the question hit me so hard as it made me realize that all the efforts I was making at the time were to keep me grounded in Hong Kong for at least the next two coming years. It was beating up the reminder of a vision that appeared before me during the chakra process Ana led us through during my teacher training. From that question onwards, it was clear to me that I was committed to stay in Hong Kong, though I was still finding a way to appreciate the city and its dynamics as they were. In 2011, I made a trip to Beijing, the capital of China, with my sister – a dear friend whom I met in Chinese school near 18 years ago; she was the only Chinese friend at the time, something that was very peculiar, considering that I was rebelling against my own descent for all various complex reasons. When I landed in Beijing, I did not know that I was close to having to spend the weekend on my own because my sister’s flight (from Shanghai) was never booked and she discovered only when she was at the airport. She never ditched me, not ever, not this time: she bought a first class ticket in order to spend three days with me in Beijing. We journeyed the city and visited the Great Wall, stood in the palaces in the Forbidden City, walked the Tiananmen Square where thousands of citizens died in the fight for liberalization and political reform in communist China, whilst recounting the fact that we both participated in a march shortly after the massacre in 1989, not knowing each other at the time. The fact that she was the only Chinese friend I had, that we appreciated each other so much that we became sisters, that this friendship had lasted for 17 years plus, and the fact that she made this trip happen, the fact that we were walking the walls that were built by and walked by our shared ancestors in the distant past, as we were taking in the majestic structures and unbelievably spectacular architecture… all of this contributed to my coming to terms with the maternal line of my descent, with as result, a sense of appreciation for the richness and depth of my culture, respect for my ancestors, which I have known from the books, but now was experiencing as every cell of my body danced to the harmonious tones of a deeper spirit language that for the first time in 30 years resonated. I came home from that trip feeling at peace with the Chinese part of my descent.

A novelty related to my almost archeological search for my identity was that I started to refer to Hong Kong as my home. I have never referred to any place, or any physical establishment as “home”. “home” was always the place where my beloved were, and so I had many homes. Referring to a dot on the map as my “home” was a novelty and something that now rings very true and comforting to me. Hong Kong is home.

I experienced many “first times”: I’m used to speaking in public but it was my first time teaching yoga to large crowds, corporations and breast cancer patients and survivors, the biggest crowd amounting to 90. I rented my first office. I visited many new places for the first time: Orcas Island, Houston, Chiang Mai, Beijing. I rode an elephant bare back for the first time :) and bathed them. I taught yoga in Cantonese for the first time. I taught yoga in Mandarin for the first time. I had my first photo shoot,.. and second one. I submitted a piece of writing for a writer’s competition for the first time. I saw wild deer for the first time. I let go of the anger and resentment against my mother for the first time (in a long time). I hired an employee for the first time. And there are probably more first times to mention that do not come to mind at this point.

But if I were to mention one thing that I have done transformationally different in 2011, it would be that I have taken the back seat as the observer, the witness, the spectator – in the beginning forced to, thereafter definitely by choice – watching life unfold before me and around me, taking in the 360° surroundings as they are, without judging, without expecting, without comparing, without fixing, without doing, just watching…., like watching a movie, more appreciating the silences between the changing imageries.

I am grateful. I am grateful for my 2011. I am closing off 2011 with a note to all of you: I want you to know that I am celebrating your presence in my life abundantly. I send out to each one of you the love and appreciation I have for each one of you, straight from the deepest place of my heart into yours. I send you a warm embrace, thanking you for being in my life.

Let’s merrily round up 2011 in celebration of all the good things it has brought you; let’s vibrantly and joyfully step into 2012 with a fresh breath of aliveness, awareness and appreciation. Happy 2012!

wallpaper

Once in a while I find myself inspired yet careful to thread the fascinating space of the Spirit in my teaching. “Are they ready?”, “Are they willing to listen?”,  ”Do they just want poses?” And when I finally speak “Does it resonate?”, “How much of it landed?”

I remember that as soon as I started teaching, I had to learn to ally with Creativity to  help me with what I should do with the empathized information I’d predominantly received through my eyes. It was as if I was learning a new language. My tongue moves at the same speed as my brain so usually I’d drop the bomb unconscious that I did. All that I’d say was the truth though you get the impression, it was lacking grace half the time. So as a new teacher, I had to train myself: “How much of what I see do I speak?”, “How do I speak it in a way that doesn’t put people in shock?”. I soon became more fluent, and more often, I’d say it with a gesture.

Today, I took a leap of faith. It was the third of eight in a series and I had no time to waste. It was important for these students to learn to connect to their heart, learn to listen to it, learn to give voice to it, learn to nourish it, learn to feed it with delight and good energy, learn to receive love, not only give, learning to be compassionate with oneself.

These are lessons that are hard. We weren’t properly taught to. More often than not, we are living up to other people’s expectations. We reprioritize our own interests for the sake of others. We sacrifice ourselves, in the name of service to others, dictated by the roles we were born with or took on, voluntarily and involuntarily.

When speaking to the hearts of a class full of breast cancer survivors, some of whom were still in their treatments, it felt much like taking the wallpaper down from the walls in which a crack appeared after an earthquake. When you take down the wallpaper off the walls, the walls are left naked. The crack on the wall becomes much more visible, like scars on someone’s heart. It doesn’t look nice. It is awful and it hurts – like a bandaid is removed: the wound is wide open, as if being prepared for an exhibition. One feels vulnerable.

At the same time, in the vulnerability lies the evidence of tremendous courage. Remember that not I, but they themselves have slowly torn away the wallpaper around their hearts. They could just rip off just a corner and be done with it; literally turning their backs and leave in order not to have to face that gasping wound.

But they didn’t. They were willing to sit with the nakedness, their vulnerability, their pain. They didn’t turn around and they didn’t leave: they will be able to use the naked wall as a new canvas, onto which they can draw what their hearts most desire to see.

That was the beauty experience. In how far or in which depth something has shaken loose in them will be different for each one of them. But the question if something has been stirred up is answered. “How do you care for yourself?” Tears flowed, deep breaths, blocks in the throat of suppressed tears, everyone was in their body. That… is amazing.

Hong Kong Eagle

On a not so polluted day, it’s not difficult to spot a flying eagle on either coast of the Victoria Harbour, Hong Kong. The birds love to circle high above the water, amidst the skyscrapers or around the green mini mountain forests that this city has.

Sometimes, the birds don’t recognize windows and an eagle would fly right into me, whether I’d be working at an office desk or doing yoga. That would have been my closest encounter with the eagle.

I remember sitting in the windowsill of a hotelroom at Grand Hyatt with my beloved teacher, Ana Forrest, in 2010. She’d just finished teaching a bunch of workshops at the Asia Yoga Conference. We watched the birds from the window which overlooked the Hong Kong Convention Center, admiring the view on the bird’s wings from the top. That’s when she duped them “Hong Kong Eagle”, as they are smaller than those she’d seen elsewhere.

Having just spent a month of Foundation Teacher Training with Ana, I knew the eagle is seen as a sacred messenger, carrying our prayers on its wings. I’d promised her that I’d take her to watch Hong Kong Eagles when she returned in November of the same year for the Advanced Teacher Training.

As it turned out, I didn’t have to, as the Hong Kong Eagles were flying by the windows of the studio where we received training. It seemed to me that they were participating in every part of the training, carefully supervising us as true assistants to Ana.

A year later, Ana set foot on Hong Kong soil again for a weekend of workshops and intensives. This time round, I was an assistant at her workshops. When I arrived with her lunch at the hotel with an hour delay that upset me deeply, we were surprised by a visit by a Hong Kong Eagle sitting on a bench outside the window of her 22nd floor hotel room. This was the closest I’ve ever seen a Hong Kong Eagle.

I read that “Eagle teaches us how to go through life without becoming attached to anything, how to accept what comes our way and see everything as a gift from the universe.“ All the food hunting stress and upset emotions I was carrying with me immediately dropped off at the sight of this big bird sitting out there gazing at us, as if she was  guarding over Ana while I was out hunting food for her. Ana said that she’s never been this close to a wild one before.

Today, as I walked into the yoga studio to practice with Ana, Gary showed me a video clip of yesterday in which Ana and the eagle were singing together. The Hong Kong eagle revisited. A ho witcha ty yo, witcha ty yay. A ho witcha ty yo, witcha ty yay. We all fly like eagles, flying so high. Circling the universe, on wings of pure light.

However, nothing beats the live experience of the eagle revisiting. Today, while Ana and I were on a business strategy call, another Hong Kong Eagle landed by the window and spoke at length to us. It was as if she had a vote in the meeting, she didn’t stop speaking.

She’s been sitting there for at least 30 minutes after the meeting before she  spread her wings and dove off into the city.

I read that “They possess the vision that helps us learn to take a step back and view the bigger picture. We need to view the past and the present objectively, whilst looking towards the future. We need to open our minds and hearts to see past old, restricting beliefs that are holding us back. Eagle teaches us to courageously face our fear of the unknown, so we are then able to fly as high as our heart’s joy can take us. Your strengths need to be utilised wisely and remember, to soar like Eagle you must view things with caution, being confident and trusting your abilities.“

As I am writing this piece, I am reflecting upon these words. I am walking towards my first gig with Ana as a lead assistant, something I have not done yet; this next step in my journey starts tomorrow and I am nervous but excited about what is yet to come. “Eagle symbolises a state of being that is reached through inner work, understanding and passing the initiation tests that come about from reclaiming our personal power. Eagle is the gift of clear vision with which one can truly see, to live in balance with heaven and Earth. Eagle shows you how to look above so you are able to touch Grandfather Sun with your heart, to love the Shadow as much as the Light. You are being asked to give yourself permission to be free in order to reach the joy that your heart longs for.”

It’s time to hit the road. Aho!

(text between quotes are from an article by Ina Woolcott)

reopening the blog

Who had thought! I’m reopening this blog space!

I accidentally deleted my old website www.breathe-unlimited.com, while working in the admin sphere of it. Intending to back it up, I deleted it instead. The good news was: I had completed a near 80% of my new website on the new platform. The bad news is: about a year worth of writing is lost. BUT: I thought it would be more than that, only to find out that I still had this blog that I never deleted on my migration to the website the first time round!

So here we go again: it’s open and here is where you’ll read my brain spin-offs from time to time!

blog move!

the journal of a journey blog: a blog has been moved to my company’s website www.breathe-unlimited.com to form an integral part of it. you will find the blog under the tab breathe. now you can also leave comments under your Facebook log-in or just as a regular comment.  let me know your thoughts! I’d love to hear from you!

while you’re there, take a look under inspiration for a collection of the latest photography.

beauty and the beast

at last, the beast let me in as it was summoned to silence. previously, the beast in the belly was trying hard to repel me, and it succeeded very well, shooting an arrow right in my weakest spot: my desire to give from full. I was pretty much thrown off the throne and I spent a week to climb up, rolling back down, crawling back up and sliding down again and so it continued until I realized that this stubbornness within me to always want to do it on my own, finally acknowledged that I needed help and reached out to the good spirits for guidance to fill my well. an empty well has no water to give. and so I learned to pray and I prayed for guidance, I prayed to heal. I received guidance with which I helped to heal. I replenished my well, in order to water the dry and deserted lands where the beasts play with the death.

my left hand was on the belly, the right hand on the right hip – the extremely strong force of the beast pushed up against my left hand, and I was watching it with awe as it stayed there, as if it wanted to push my hand off. but my hand stayed too as I felt the air pressure in my lungs, I opened my mouth and let go of an overwhelming big sigh. I was nauseous again, my legs started to tremble… again. I gazed down at my active feet and firmly I said: “I refuse to be used by you and I certainly do not allow you to throw me off balance by making me nauseous, I already know this, this is end of the game, I am not interested in fighting with you. you’re on my territory, retreat, and let me do my work”.

my left hand started to tremble; short, sharp, electrical shocks ran through my hand palm, my left wrist started to hurt, but my hand stubbornly rested on the belly. underneath my left hand I felt thousands of worms swarming and that image alone was so disgusting, it made me want to vomit. my right hand started to get sticky from touching that cold lifeless frozen meat that had started to rot. I knew what that meant, but neither was I going to have it terrorize me this time, nor was I going to accept the vision as a given. I responded “no, she does not want to die, get over with this drama, I already know what you’re contemplating. I know your damn tricks. get out”.

I switched sides. when I put my right hand on the belly, left hand on the left hip, the same story repeated as if the earlier dialog never took place. it won’t let me in, in fact, this beast was nasty, it was trying really hard to throw me out, just like it did the last two times and earlier today, scaring me by inducing the vomiting. but this time, I decided, it was going to be different. this time, it was my turn to get into the saddle and show who is in control here. I was very much aware of the forces I was faced with and they were strong. I prayed for guidance, I prayed to heal. I stayed grounded and I spoke firmly “no offense, but don’t mess with me either”. I felt supported by the earth under my feet, the four crows that I saw out of the corner of my left eye, the breeze that came through from the windows that brought circulation and the waters within me I sensed flowing. I had the mountain at my back. “I am not interested in negotiating with you, let me in now, the healing forces are with me.”

the beast in the belly continued to fight. so I opened up my mouth and spoke to the person for the first time “do you want to heal?”. the question was answered with quiver, and then the belly sunk in for about two inches so I took that as a yes. – hands moved to belly and heart -. the jaws clenched as if biting into a piece of wood and the belly started to shake even more. little water wells formed in my eyes, I felt suffering, and as the belly pressed up into my right hand, my well ran over, water streaming down my face, I wasn’t crying, water just flowed from my eyes. “who are you eating away? what emotions are you numbing?” I asked. the belly started to quake and then, trembling high voluminous yet inaudible syllables gushed over me, along with small rivers of tears alongside each side of the cheeks. puke! shivering.

in the wells of my eyes, I could see beauty in the rise and fall of the belly as it was freed from the beast for once. the hardness in the belly softened, it melted down. a stream of words poured over me. sometimes clear and understandable, at other times barely recognizable as words at all, more clearly the roaring of a beast. puke again. how beauty meets the beast will shift if the story is open to be rewritten. as we all know from the fairy tail, the condition is love. also in this case.

I thank the powers that have stood by me today for giving me the guidance I had asked for. a-ho.

to be continued…