How would you define love?

A friend of mine recently how asked me how I would define love; what it means to me to say or hear the words, “I love you”.   

It caused me long pause for thought.  These are the kinds of questions that I spend a lot of time thinking about.  Because the question wasn’t just about love, it was about human relationships, and how we express ourselves within them; how we connect to one-another.  These are questions with no easy or static answers.  The idea of love is both as individual as a birthmark, and as universal as the air we breathe.

I am still exploring what love means to me, especially within the context of relationship – be it romantic or not.  I am fascinated by human beings, and human relationships in particular ... and although I’m still formulating my exact thoughts around it (and may be for the rest of my lifetime) I recognize that I do have some beliefs that are quite clear and strong.  One of those is a firm belief that as human beings, we are designed to love, and designed to be in relationship.   in fact, whether we understand it or not, we ARE in relationship, all the time – with ourselves, each other, and with the world around us, and with the divine. (however we interpret that)

I believe that, fundamentally, what ails us in this society comes back to lack of authentic, present, loving, connection. It is our chronic inability to be full present and connected in those relationships with ourselves, each other, and all that is around us.

I also believe that however one defines love - it's never love itself that causes pain.  It is fear, misunderstanding, and our stories that cause the hurts.  I believe that love itself is absolute and transcends all the 'stuff' of ego and human suffering.  

I don't, however, believe that the statement, "love conquers all" is necessarily accurate - because while love may transcend all - we humans get in the way all the time.  We let fear, ego, stories, and whatever else we can come up with, get between us and that love. The love itself is always there, around us, and available.... we need only the courage to tap in to it, to allow it, to be fully present with it.  

Coming back to the original question – how I define ‘love’.... it’s a working definition (at best), but I think that love is like water; It is both what we are made of and what we are surrounded by.... and it is essential for our survival.

Which doesn't mean that it always looks the way we want it to. Once we're in the realm of relationship with another person we're no longer dealing just with 'love'.  We're dealing with values, beliefs, stories, hopes, fears, boundaries, fantasies, and egos – ours and theirs.  And all of those things are both what bring us suffering, and what give us opportunities to grow, to learn, and to fully experience love when we do open to it. 

It is in the very human struggles, of egos and stories, of fears and hopes and dreams, that we are connected to each other.  It is in our places of darkness, as much as in light, that we find connection, that we need each other.  We are conceived in relationship; our identities are formed in relationship – at our core, we are human in relationship.  Where we hold ourselves back from relationship, we hold ourselves back from our full humanity; we deny ourselves the fullest opportunity to grow and actualize.  To enter into intimate, loving, relationship is the single most courageous thing we can do as human beings.

Solstice to Solstice - a journey of many transitions

It's been almost exactly a year since I posted a blog.  I'm tempted to wonder where that year went.... but as I pause and reflect, the answers are enough to fill many posts.  It has been a year of inward journey.  After 2 years of exploring the world .... Guatemala, India, Nepal ... I have spent the last one exploring my inner world, growing myself, building fertile soil for my next journey.

There is something powerful about the solstice to mark times of transition.  I left for Guatemala on Winter Solstice, 2009.  I returned to British Columbia exactly six months later, on Summer Solstice.   It is two summer solstices later, and I am again called to reflect on the transitions and what is unfolding before me.

This past year has been one of profound paradox for me.  Developing myself as a professional consultant while simultaneously developing myself as a somatically based yoga teacher.  Playing dressup in  'professional' heels and navigating corporate politics through the week; donning yoga pants, with my raw-vegan potluck contribution to the world of deep emotional connection on the weekends.  And through the process finding my voice of authenticity in both.  Finding the place where I can bring heart and connection into the corporate world, and where I can bring my professional skills into the powerful realm of yoga and connection.

As I move forward this year, I know that my work life will continue to shift into greater alignment - and with each step forward, I am able to see the incredible value of each step I've taken, perhaps most especially the difficult ones.  I am grateful for all the places where I have bumped against the questions of balance, alignment, integrity, and purpose.  Those questions have enabled me to be more present in those moments, and to grow from them.... and to make choices with ever greater clarity.

This week I got to play with another level of balance, as I brought my 'professional' skills into a community I care deeply about, and helped them move forward through an important piece of work - that for them is all about connection.  I see what is possible when I bring all of me together in service work, and I am excited about what is possible.

I don't know yet exactly what this year will look like, but I know it will be yet another layer of balance - of the inner and the outer.  Of bringing my voice to the work that I do, and sharing it.  You can count on more to come.

My first week in India

How do I put this first week into words?  Delhi is a cacophony of sounds, smells and sights . . . perhaps in that order.  When I was in Guatemala, I thought San Marcos was noisy - I devoted an entire post to it, in fact.  Sanny M has *nothing* on Delhi.  Horns are a constant discordant melody over the rumble of the traffic itself.  At night, it appears that Indians like fireworks almost as much as Guatemalans.  I haven't heard so many dogs barking - outside at least, although they are everywhere on the street.  Inside I hear dogs barking, mind you, as the guesthouse I'm staying in right now has two yappy little poms.

As for smells . . . the air here is so think sometimes I am amazed I can breathe.  I am starting to wonder if I will ever get the grit out of my eyes, or if it's permanent now.  My lungs yearn for BC's beautiful fresh air.  The smell is mostly not as bad as I expected - I was warned that I would find it intolerable getting off the plane, and really it hasn't been so bad.  It is interesting though how markedly stinkier the city gets after dark.  I'm not sure what that is . . .but it's a sickly sweet smoggy icky pungent aroma that seems to envelope the roads as the evening sets.   As always when I travel, I came down with a cold this week and it has almost been a blessing in that I can't smell much.  On the other hand, I have a hunch that the air quality didn't exactly help my healing process.  Fortunately I'm on the mend, although I still don't quite have my sense of smell back.  I'm counting my blessings.

Maybe sights should have come first on the list - there are so many.  It is such an interesting place to be witness to; the paradoxes and contradictions are everywhere.  Hindus, Muslims; happy, cared-for children, poor, dirty children with no shoes; women in fine traditional silks and saris, women in western business suits and stilettos; shiny BMW SUVs, beat up old suzuki hatch-backs; hundreds of homeless people and dogs, wealthy people with servants and spoiled fru fru dogs; tenement style concrete block buildings beside stunning palatial houses.  What's most remarkable to me is not that these contradictions exist, but how they co-exist in such proximity of each other.

Much to my surprise, I was here almost an entire week before I saw my first cow on the street.  Apparently they herded both the cows and the beggars out of Delhi for the Common Wealth Games in October.  I think the beggars have resumed their numbers more quickly overall.

The same day I spotted the cow - meandering through the market, I also spotted my first elephant, walking along a main road.  Her (I am assuming it's a girl, not sure why) face was painted with beautiful blue and gold markings and she carried a platform and rider. As we drove past her my host, Ashish, graciously stopped to let me get a picture.  Turns out they walk fairly quickly, as by the time I got my camera out I ended up with a fantastic shot of her rump walking past us.  We zipped ahead of her again and then had to stop for a light, so I hopped out to get another shot, but the light was fading, so it's not very good.  In the mean time, as we waited for the light, she pulled up behind us in the traffic line to wait for the light also.  Ashish hoped aloud that she wouldn't rest her trunk on our roof - as no doubt it would collapse. What an image to contemplate!!  Fortunately, she kept her trunk to herself until we had pulled away and then she used it to reach up for a snack as she walked under a big leafy tree. It was really quite an awesome sight.

Ashish also made sure to stop by a place known as the "Lotus Temple" en route to and from the office this week so I could take pictures.  Once in the morning and once at night.  It's Delhi's Baha'i temple, and the building is constructed such that it looks like a lotus flower. It's really quite a remarkable structure, and it's amazing all lit up at night.

I'm slowly getting to know the little area I'm in, although I think I'll be moving to another neighbourhood next week.  As lovely as my hosts here are, I've found another guesthouse that feels like it will better suit me for a long-term stay.  It's in a little enclave, with gardens and grass, and more independent private space, including a desk and sitting area.  Given that I'll be working primarily from home that feels essential. Sitting in bed working has a pretty limited novelty. Really, how many hours a day can you spend in bed??  Admittedly, I get regular tea service in bed here . . . but still, the novelty is wearing as my butt gets numb and I begin to develop cabin-fever.  My body and spirit need to have a dedicated workspace, if not in another room, at least one that requires me to stand up and move to another spot in the room. I'm positive it's better for circulation and sanity.


A quick end-note to sum up my first week.  I spent a fair bit of time driving around this week. (passengering, actually.  I don't think I EVER want to actually *drive* here)  Zipping around South Delhi, I discovered yet another fascinating facet of Indian road laws:  As I watched all the motorcycles and scooters zip by with women riding the back side-saddle, I discovered that not only is that legal (you can't possibly straddle a moto in a sari!!) but the law also holds that helmets are required for men, but not for women unless they are driving. (Apparently this decision was made to honour women - the decision makers felt that women wouldn't want the helmet to mess up their hair)  So, women passengers and the children all piled on the bike are not required to wear any kind of protective gear.  I totally see the logic: clearly the woman on the back sitting side-saddle with a baby in her lap is not only far less likely to fall off, but surely she won't crack her head if that should happen. And children are resilient, they'll bounce. Surely. ;-)  

Landing with a thump

So I'm back in Canada, alternately reflecting on my journey and focusing right here and now . . . wondering what the hell I'm doing.

The travel experience, guat city to Toronto, was blessedly uneventful - my favourite kind.  No major flight delays, no major crises . . . nothing.  I did have, believe it or not, a US immigration officer flirt with me and invite me to the Caribbean for his birthday this summer.  Given how formidable they can be, and how long I waited in line, I guess that's pretty noteworthy - especially since he was quite cute.

I arrived to a rather chilly Toronto retreat back towards winter (I had optimistically hoped that they'd be past this by now).  So I'm very grateful that I packed my sweaters and warm pants . . . and the new wool coat that I bought in Pana just before I left. It's a rather abrupt and harsh contrast to my last night in Guatemala - hanging out under the stars until the last possible moment before crawling into bed.  I almost locked up my hostel room and slept under the stars in a hammock . . . except that I don't actually sleep all that well in a hammock.

So, along with the cold on the outside, I also seem to have a cold on the inside, along with what I suspect is water transition blues . . . or something.  My body has declared war on me - demanding that I sit still and rest, rather than race full speed ahead the way I'm wont to do.  Although I can't say I'm all that happy about being so sick . . . it is ensuring that I take some time to think about what I want from this next leg of my journey, from this time here in Ontario, with my family. 

It's also a time to fill in my blog with missing stories, while they're still fresh . . . knowing they will be harder to retrieve as time passes.

Ready to go home . . . .the long route

Although I'm not exactly certain what caused the shift, it has finally come and I am ready to return to Canadian soil.  I think it happened as I approached the prospect of a week in Antigua, celebrating Semana Santa.  I know that it cemented upon my return to San Marcos.

I have been in Guatemala for four months, and will be here for just over another two weeks.  There is no question it has been a life changing experience - though in what ways and to what extent, I suspect I won't really know for months yet.

In true Shosh-style, I essentially ran out of money after about my first month here, and so, faced with my own immanent and premature departure, I promptly panicked, pouted, whined and agonized.   Then I stopped, remembered there was another way, and I put out a request to the universe: show me the money.  I asked for a clear sign - is it time for me to go?  Or should I stay?  And if I'm to stay, show me how I'll pay for it.  And then I let it go . . . and accepted that I didn't know if I was staying or leaving, but I was ok either way.

Within 36 hours I was offered a job as a waitress; a day later I was offered a place to stay, essentially for free, I just had to pay the hydro bill and take care of the cats. The universe provided - and it was effortless for me, I just had to let go.

Three months later, I have been working 5 nights a week at the restaurant, and teaching my dance class once a week.  I've managed to save a little - just enough to go to Antigua for the week (again, with a free place to stay).  One does not get ahead here, one gets by.  And for as long as I've needed to be here, to be present to my growth, to soak in the lake and the energy of this sacred place, that has been enough.

When I left for Antigua, I was in definitive need of a vacation . . . . from my vacation????  It was a reminder of how profoundly I was not on vacation here, and although fundamentally, that's ok - I didn't come for a 'vacation' so much as a journey . . . I was tired from working 6 nights a week. Something had shifted.

When I returned to San Marcos from my week in Antigua, I landed with an emotional thump. I didn't want to return to work; I didn't want to work that hard just to 'be' here anymore. It wasn't the first time I had recognized that I could work half as hard to earn 10 times as much at home, but it was the first time it had really bothered me.  Up until this point, the appeal of staying here out-weighed the appeal of earning money, instead of peanuts. For the first time, the prospect of returning to Canada, to work, felt exciting and full of possibilities.  Up until that point, it had felt only daunting and somehow like a 'should' hanging over my head. 

I've actually seen very little of Guatemala - this vast country of highlands, lowlands, mountains, lakes, ruins, beaches, fascinating people and culture.  I have spent almost all of my time in San Marcos, learning, growing, resting, healing . . . and working.  Once the emotional dust from my week in Antigua settled, I became clear that although there is so much more here I could do and see and experience - and I would like to return for all those things - I have gotten what I needed out of this journey. It has been exactly what it needed to be. 

What surprises me, perhaps the most, is my choice to return to Ontario instead of BC.  Not that I plan to stay there long - BC is truly my home - but some part of me is truly mystified by my choice to spend summer in smoggy, unrelenting, citified Ontario, rather than swimming off the rocks at home on Cortes.  As that decision settled into my spirit (with some fine protest by my mind!!) I realized that I have a profound need to reconnect with my family.  I don't fully understand it - beyond the obvious (I love them, I miss them . . . etc.), but something larger than me is clear I need to go home to them this summer, and so it shall be.

So, the journey home will be a longer, more circuitous one than I originally envisioned, but I trust that all things unfold as they are meant to.  I have some exciting hopes and plans for my time in Ontario, and I am looking forward to reconnecting with many old friends in a way that just doesn't happen in 2-week visits.  I plan to be back in BC by the end of September, grounded and ready to settle in to my home.