TravelStream™ news feed for member yorron on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/yorron en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Fri, 13 Nov 2009 09:55:13 -0500 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1256062193/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1256062193/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1256062193/tpod.html Fri, 13 Nov 2009 09:55:13 -0500 THE JOURNEY WITHIN: Using unfamiliar destinations as a backdrop, I plan to dive deeper inside myself to explore undiscovered truths within.

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Mizpe Deragot, West Bank, Palestinian Territory

On the way to the Dead Sea with my friend Yaniv (who i met last month in Sinai and who has become to be at the top of the list of "What I like Best in Israel") played an Israeli song by an unknown-to-me singer Dudu Tessa. It is called "Eventually one gets used to everything". It been a while since words touched me so much. In many ways I think it describes my current life experience. The song touched me so much I chose to translate it and share it with you here.I hope you'll like it too.Eventually one gets used to everythingDudu TessaI’ll take a grand failure over drawer dreams.A studio apartment at the end of a corner alleyI can’t get hurt this wayI fucking sick and tired of picking up wounded women at the end of the night.I’ll take the lunacy, the madness. Anything but fear. It kills me.A studio apartment at the end of a corner alleyI can’t relaxA bit of air is left for one last round.And I don't see how I get out of thisand how I turn this into love.I’ll take the lunacy, the madness. Anything but fear. It kills me.Empty glasses, cheap tearsA “King” in creating life.I came back from hunting. The blood stains will disappear when the sun comes.And I don't see how I get out of thisand how I turn this into love.Awful. How awful this is,Eventually one gets used to everything.______________ You can hear this song on YouTube. Luckily, there's no video clip so you can more easily focus on the sound :-) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUnvRtCpXPwLove/YorronHebrew Lyrics below בסוף מתרגלים להכלדודו טסהעדיף כישלון מפואר מחלומות במגירה  דירת חדר בפינה של הפינה אני לא יכול להיפגע נשבר לי הזין לאסוף נשים פצועות בסוף הלילה עדיף הטירוף, השיגעון, רק לא הפחד הוא גומר אותי  דירת חדר בפינה של הפינה אני לא יכול להירגענשאר קצת אוויר לסיבוב אחרון ואני לא רואה איך אני יוצא מזה איך אני הופך את זה לאהבה עדיף הטירוף, השיגעון, רק לא הפחד, הוא גומר אותי  כוסות ריקות, דמעות זולות מלך, בלייצר חיים חזרתי מציד, כתמי הדם נעלמים עם בוא השמש  ואני לא רואה איך אני יוצא מזה איך אני הופך את זה לאהבה  נורא, כמה זה נורא בסוף מתרגלים להכל
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1256063853/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1256063853/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1256063853/tpod.html Fri, 13 Nov 2009 09:53:33 -0500 THE JOURNEY WITHIN: Using unfamiliar destinations as a backdrop, I plan to dive deeper inside myself to explore undiscovered truths within.

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Ras El Shaten, Egypt

After some back and forth thinking of maybe making Israel my home again I'm back on the road again. I wonder if it is the desert wind calling my name or the self-perpetuating story of "nobody loves me" that is drawing me south.My intention is to use the desert solitude to ponder this.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1258123448/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1258123448/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1258123448/tpod.html Fri, 13 Nov 2009 09:52:18 -0500 THE JOURNEY WITHIN: Using unfamiliar destinations as a backdrop, I plan to dive deeper inside myself to explore undiscovered truths within.

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Cairo, Egypt

This city was not on my list of "places to see" but in order to get an extension on my visa so that I can stay in Sinai for a while longer I had to come here. Luckily, I'm here with Ahmed, my friend who is the manager in Ras El Shaten. We are staying at his lovely parents apartment and do sight-seeing in the car he rented. Pretty cool and easy.I did not want to come here because people told me it was "worse than Delhi". It's not.It's a huge, polluted, loud and overcrowded city, but certainly not as smelly, dirty and loud as Delhi. The people I meet here are very nice, yet they all seem to complain about the oppressive situation here. I try to point out to them the bright side of things. Some see it. Some choose to continue complaining.Went to see the pyramids today. Lovely, but not that exciting. Will see what unfolds next...
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Tel Aviv, Israel

An honest self observation:I think the main lesson I’m here for is to learn how to receive love. And yet, I so often find myself complaining about the lack of it.Why are the notions of “Nobody loves me” and "I'm not loved enough" so easy for me to accept?Why is the notion of “I am loved” is so hard for me to believe in?Is it the same for you?
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1250921863/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1250921863/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1250921863/tpod.html Wed, 26 Aug 2009 07:49:58 -0400 THE JOURNEY WITHIN: Using unfamiliar destinations as a backdrop, I plan to dive deeper inside myself to explore undiscovered truths within.

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Dalaman, Muğla Province, Turkey

In need of vacationYesterday morning I was sitting at an open-air Cafe in the Fethiye Harbor, a tourist destination overflowing with European vacationers. I was suffocating. Breathing cigarette smoke from every direction I was thinking to myself: “I need a vacation!”But it was not the cigarette smoke that choked me. It was my mind, obsessing with negative thoughts, faithfully repeating them like sacred mantra patterns. I was suffering because my life -- circumstance, outcome and all -- did not match my vision for how it “should” be.[ “Suffering?”, said the Buddhist teacher, “Must be attached . . .” ]I know the rhetoric. I know that I attract to my experience whatever is the subject of my attention, and therefore focusing on the negative, the complaint, and the lack, not only that it doesn’t bring forth the desired outcome, it actually brings more of the circumstance that I do not want in my life. And yet. when my mind is in ‘complaint mode’, it’s like a hurricane that cannot be stopped. It sees nothing but the righteous reasons to suffer and complain.I thought I was prepared for times like this. I have written pages upon pages to help me in such ‘emergencies’. Conflict resolution techniques that can help me break down the challenges and move into a calmer state of mind. But when my mind is stormy, it is raging, and it does not allow a moment of breath to look into this information. Kind of a “It’s my party and I cry if I want to” state of mind.Equanimity, derailed.When I was teaching Yoga in Cirali, being celibate, peaceful and happy, life threw me a curveball and said: “You think you are happy? Okay, let’s see if you can handle THIS?”It was an Alanis Morissette’s “Ironic” kind of a curveball:&nbsp; I met the man of my dreams! . . .. . . and his beautiful wife.Even before I saw him I felt his presence. It was my heart who told me to turn around and look in the direction of the restaurant, even though I was heading in the other direction. And there he was, in his full stunning glory, beautiful beyond words, sitting at the table. His wife and two lovely kids by his side.I don’t know what is it about him that got my heart beating so fast and my lungs to stop breathing, but that’s exactly what happened. Months of celibacy did not give me any insight into the workings of sexual attraction, but here it was, in its rawest form, and the disappointment of the circumstances was familiar to me. I turned away to the Yoga hall, unaware that this moment was the beginning of a coming storm.And then they came to my yoga classes. And they loved them. And they loved me. And I loved them. And then we became friends and even though I tried very hard to direct my mind elsewhere I just couldn’t help falling in love with him. He was beautiful in every way and the more I got to know him the more I loved him. I wanted to channel my thoughts towards “The man of my dreams that I’d like to manifest will be like him: rugged, sensitive, funny, mysterious, loving and playful!” Instead my mind was raging: “I don’t want ‘like him’. I want him! It is him I want!!!”After awhile they left. And I remained. And for the first time in several years, I felt lonely. Very lonely. “Why can’t I have THAT?”, “Where is mine???”So I ‘dealt with it’ the way I know to deal with challenges. I meditated, practiced Yoga, breathed into my heart. Kept on training my mind towards being generous, peaceful and humble. To some degree it worked. The anxiousness was calming down. For the most part, however,&nbsp; it did not work; I just could not stop thinking about him.His beautiful (and smart and lovely and very attractive) wife maintained an email contact with me. Turned out she fell in love with me. I think women students ‘falling in love’ with their yoga teacher is pretty common. At least it has been my experience so far. Having to gently reject their advances has always been an uncomfortable and even somewhat stress producing event for me. This time, however, is was simply painful. How ironic can life be? She’s in love with me. I’m in love with her husband. And he? He’s in love with . . . (Oh, how I wish I could write “me” but no . . .), he is in love with her and very committed to her and their adorable kids.So we ‘sorted it out’ and I continued attempting to focus my mind on manifesting rather than feeling lack but the horses of the mind already broke loose of the reins. The ‘no ejaculation’ part of my celibacy practice went flying out the window, my yoga practice was not as focused, and I started drinking coffee.The August StormAnd then I left Cirali and traveled along Turkey’s magnificent turquoise coast having lovely experiences. Somewhere in the background, however, that familiar childhood conversation of “I’m all alone”, and “nobody loves me”, and “I can never get what I want” resurfaced and was getting louder and louder.Every night before I go to sleep I write a list of the things I’m grateful for. It helps me maintain a positive attitude towards life, I think. But in the past few weeks of travel, as I was writing proofs of abundance, I was also contemplating the lack. “Oh, how much I wish I was with him now” and “Where is mine?”When I arrived in Fethiye ten days ago the mind chatter was getting louder. I learned from an internet site that there was some latent gay scene here so I hoped to ‘fill in the void’. At the same time, an ex-yoga-student-and-now-friend-of-mine sent me an email asking about sadness. Not feeling sadness in years, or at least not remembering any recent experiences of sadness, I begun thinking about it.I did not find what I came to look for in Fethiye, and the “big(ger) city” vibe here was uncomfortable to me. So after a few days I left for Kabak Valley, a mellow harder-to-reach part of the coast that promised some peace and quiet. There, overlooking the lovely beach at the foothills of Dragon Mountain I resumed my Yoga practice but did not relax into the peace I was seeking. I did not understand it at the time, but I was transferring my longings to “him” onto the attractive and single owner of the pansiyon I was staying at. Yet again, however, the interest was one sided. Needing to book a flight to Israel, where several American-based Israeli friends were waiting to meet me, I returned to Fethiye.Back in Fethiye the mind storm was getting out of control. Deep sadness was washing over me. This obsessive pattern of “can’t get him out of my mind” is familiar to me from my life before yoga. And even though this time it was certainly not as intense as in the past, I was surprised to see it still existed with me. As I was writing an email to a friend I even started crying. The storm was full on. I was feeling lonely, unloved and full of self pity.&nbsp;The Goddesses of RhythmReading sacred text is a common prescription to deal with mind storms. For me, the text that always works wonders is by Abraham-Hicks. Maybe not as “sacred” as Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras but, from my perspective, just as effective.I looked at the stack of unopened “daily quote” e-mails that I’ve been receiving from Abraham-Hicks.com. The one I arbitrarily opened read:<i>“There will be a time, not so far from now, that you will look back on this phase of your life and instead of condemning it or beating up on it... Instead of blaming or guilting, you will feel appreciation for it, because you will understand that a renewed desire for life was born out of this time period that will bring you to physical heights that you could not have achieved without the contrast that gave birth to this desire.”Amazing synchronicity.And just like a tiny needle can deflate a giant balloon with a little prick, these few lines deflated the raging mind chatter. It seems like mind storms --I guess like any other storm-- have an innate rhythm: they pick up speed, reach a roaring peak and then, almost out of nowhere, die down. All of the sudden I was not feeling lack. The sadness was gone and a gentle knowing that everything is just fine the way it came like a breeze into my awareness.Yesterday evening, sitting on a park bench near the harbor, I was finally able to engage in Savitry Breathing, a calming rhythmic breath (inhale for 8 count, hold for 4, exhale for 8, inhale for 4) which I couldn’t get myself to maintain in the past few weeks. Ten minutes into it and Savitry, the goddess of rhythm, embraced me with her love.The aftermathAs I’m observing the settling of the dust and the change in my mind I wonder what has happened here. The circumstances and outcome have not changed. The man I wanted so badly is not by my side and tonight, yet again, I will be sleeping by myself. But the “feeling space” has changed. I’m not feeling lack or lonely. I’m not sad. My breath is steadier and I feel calmer than I was in weeks. Is this a temporary relief or is it a shift in perspective? I’m hopping it is the latter but it is probably a combination of both. Life, I’ve learned, unfolds at the rhythm of ebb and flow.As I was writing this story, riding on the bus to the Dalaman airport, waiting at the terminal, and flying over the magnificent Turkish coast I am realizing that during the past month a new desire has formed within me, the desire to be in a loving relationship. As it formed, I was attached to how it should manifest, creating all the suffering. I think it is the Second Noble Truth of Buddhism that says something like “Suffering is not because of ‘what is’ but rather because of what we make ‘what is’ to mean”. I took ‘what is’ to mean lack. Now I see the abundance in it. Now I have a clearer picture of what it is that I want to manifest in my life. The obsessive “I want him and only him!” was only a repeat of a negative mind pattern from the past paying me a visit. Now I know that there will be a time, not so far from now, where I’ll look back at this experience and all I’ll feel will be gratitude for this contrast, as it brought forth this beautiful new desire.&nbsp;My deepest gratitude to Margaret, Lisa, Yifat, Anaya and Osnat for showering me with love and support.<i>Dedicated with love to the beautiful wife.
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Fethiye, Turkish Aegean Coast, Turkey

It's especially hard to find accommodations in Turkey during August. Everything is way overpriced and completely full. And yet, here in Fethiye, there is a dilapidated hotel right next to the bazaar with really clean rooms for only 20 TL (single). For comparison, the next cheapest thing I found here was 50 TL far from the center.It's called FUNYA Hotel and it's right next to the bazaar facing the harbor (near the four palm trees circle).The owner, Sarda, has a stern appearance, but is actually very nice.Enjoy.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1196148420/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1196148420/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1196148420/tpod.html Tue, 04 Aug 2009 15:55:25 -0400 THE JOURNEY WITHIN: Using unfamiliar destinations as a backdrop, I plan to dive deeper inside myself to explore undiscovered truths within.

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Sukhothai, Thailand

I'm riding on my rented bike (20 baht) in Old Sukhothai's historic park,wearing&nbsp;my newly purchased banana leaf hat and sunglasses.&nbsp;To my right side my new friend Sabrina, who I met yesterday evening at the night market,&nbsp;is riding alongside. On the back seat of my bike sits a Buddhist monk named Kitti (Yes, you read it right. There's a Buddhist monk -saffron robe and all- riding with me on the back of my bike!)&nbsp; We are a major attraction here. Every tourist we pass by takes pictures of us. Every Thai person who sees us&nbsp;giggles and smiles.I met him yesterday afternoon. I was wondering around Old Sukhothai and stumbled upon a few structures&nbsp;surrounding a pond that turned out to be a monastery. As I was looking at the pond I heard a voice.&nbsp; "You can go swimming here if you like There are no crocodiles here". I turned around and saw a smiling young-looking monk peeking from within one of the structures.&nbsp; I smiled and said that even without crocodiles I was not tempted to swim in these murky green water. He laughed and invited me to sit with him, so I did.He calls himself a "tourist monk". His English, although incomprehensible most of the time, is still better than most monks. In fact, the majority&nbsp;of the monks don't speak any English at all. I was not sure why he was being so hospitable and what were his&nbsp;aims but true to the intention I set for myself for this trip I decided to let go of worries, open my heart and hang around. During the next two hours he told me about Buddhism as he knows it. It resembled nothing of the Buddhism that I've studied through Jack&nbsp;Kornfield's books or at my Blooming Lilac Sangha in Rochester or even Dharma Punx in Los Angeles.&nbsp; His Buddhism sounded like a mix of Christianity and Medieval Judaism, with heaven and hell, angels, good luck charms and lots of superstitious beliefs. He gave me an amulet to hold in one hand and then guided me in a long winded meditation where I was going to one <i>chedi (a pagoda like structure) and meeting a crystal Buddha that gave me many images of my body. Once I picked the purest image of myself I entered into another <i>chedi and in its center there were the Buddha's teeth (yes, teeth!!!).&nbsp; I then had&nbsp;to stare at the teeth and ask the Buddha to forgive me for my sins and that I'd&nbsp;go to heaven when I die. As if this was not enough to give me a completely different perspective of this religion, another young monk without eyebrows joined us. "He used to be a drug addict", Kitti giggled. "He does&nbsp;not speak English", he added quickly, explaining why he shared the gossip in front of Eed, the other monk. Eed smoked a cigarette and offered me one too.&nbsp;I said "no, thanks" in broken Thai and he smiled. Kitti asked me if I had a family and I told him my parents and brothers are in Israel and that my boyfriend is in Los Angeles. He seemed stunned for a moment and asked why I was not ashamed to announce that I was gay. I told him I did not see what there was to be ashamed of. He said that in Thailand and Buddhism it is believed that a gay person is one who used to be a woman in a previous life and that it is a transition for the next life to be a real man.&nbsp; I smiled lovingly and said that if that's the case than Buddha must have been a woman in a previous life because the Thai "walking Buddha" looks like a girl with little breasts and delicate hands. He giggled and disagreed. A third monk, older and heavier, joined us. He, too, did not speak any English. He sat next to us and stared at me disapprovingly. He was wearing a Buddhist monk's version of a tool belt; a saffron colored garment&nbsp;hung from&nbsp;the right shoulder&nbsp;to the&nbsp;left hip with many pockets and zippers.&nbsp;An iPod stuck out of one of the pockets. "This one must be a rich monk", I thought to myself. I suspected that Kitti was gay himself so I&nbsp;shared with him that when I read about Buddhism I never seen anywhere where the Buddha said anything about heaven and hell and about being ashamed of being gay. I also said that unlike Buddhism I don't believe in "bad Karma"&nbsp;or that we come back to this life to pay for past lives. "I believe we come to the physical world because it is an amazing experience. We want to come back again and again, and every time we want to try something else. Sometimes we want to be a tree, sometimes a butterfly, sometime a person who kills other people, sometime a rich woman, sometimes a smoking monk", I said "and no matter how we come here, it is all good. No hell, no sins, just play and expansion of the human experience."&nbsp; He was intrigued and wanted to hear more but I had to go to catch the last bus back to my guest house. I promised him that I'd come back the next morning and he offered to take me around Old Sukhothai to show me around.When Sabrina and I showed up the next morning&nbsp;we found out that Kitti was waiting for me to share his only meal of the day. When he saw Sabrina he immediately brought out another plate. We thanked him for his generosity but we had already ate breakfast, so he ate the huge meal by himself while we waited. My eye condition has worsened in the past few days and even though the swellings in my eyelid had lessened, my vision has gotten much worse. (In order to write this blog, by the way, I have to enlarge the font to about 0.5"). Kitti offered to heal me using a small swatch of orange cloth imprinted with the palms of a dead monk who supposedly was the second coming of the Buddha. It smelled like gasoline but I already knew that many gifts come wrapped&nbsp;in unappealing packages so I let him do his magic and surprisingly, for the next 10 minutes, my eyes actually felt better.Two villagers came to visit. One of them said that he can heal me, butonly after dark. For a piece of paper with my name written on it, along with 5 baht, he will cast a spell on me tonight (thankfully I did not have to be present) and my eyes will be cured by tomorrow morning. My local eye doctor, who I visited again last night, told me it will take 3-4 more days to heal, so I figured this was certainly worth 5 baht (about 15 cents).After about an hour of eating and "healing" we finally went out for the promised tour. Many of the things he explained to us we did not understand. Many other things contradicted what the Lonely Planet guide said. Nevertheless, it was very entertaining, not to mention that Sabrina and I were the&nbsp;envy of all the other tourists - we had a monk for a tour guide!!! During the tour Kitti confided in me that he was gay himself but that he never acted on it and that nobody knew. Effeminate as he was, I thought&nbsp;the latter&nbsp;was hard to believe but I did not say anything (I know it's a surprise to most of you but&nbsp;I really did not say anything.You see, I changed!...LOL) To be perfectly honest, seeing exactly the same sites I had seen just a day before, even with Kitti's commentary, was not that interesting. Hanging out with him and Sabrina (who wore a skimpy tank top) was much more intriguing to me. As we rode on the bikes through the sites a cellphone rang. It was not mine. It was not Sabrina's. It was Kitti's. He insisted that I keep on riding while he talked on the cellphone. I gladly agreed, but signaled Sabrina to take pictures. If anyone from National Geographic is reading this the answer is yes, I would be happy to share those rare photos with your readers....) We ended our tour at a local restaurant. Because monks are not allowed to eat solids after 12 noon Kitti ordered a milkshake and then a pineapple shake. Not exactly "kosher" but he was the gambling kind anyway. Since we were running out of time I left Sabrina at the restaurant and took Kitti on my bike back to the monastery. As I dropped him off near his humble room&nbsp;we thanked each other and he said that he was very happy to have met me&nbsp;as he learned a lot&nbsp;from me. He liked how happy I seemed to him and how friendly I was towards everyone we met on the way. I thanked him for the opportunity to spend a day with him.The first thing I did as we returned to town is to write this blog, which I couldn't wait to share with you. While I cannot see well enough to read anything I can still see the keyboard in front of me, and that's what counts after all.
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Ko Phangan, Thailand

Four weeks of steady practice at Agama (with the exception of a 3 day break for a visa run to Malaysia) and the mnemonics (the text teachers use to facilitate the classes, such as “Attention focused to perceive fine vibrations in the area of the neck”) is steadily solidifying in my head. I like it.I’m continuing to be ambivalent about my experiences here. On one hand, the asana practice itself, as confusing as it may be with its instructions regarding the flow of energy and the sensations of the chakras, seems to yield great results. My energy level and my ability to focus my mind are steadily rising. My mood and outlook on life is positive and excited. I seem to maintain my intentions for longer periods of time, and I feel very connected to my reality, seeing how I’m manifesting everything that comes my way.There are a few teachers here who are lovely and inspiring. When they lead a class, I can literally feel their energy carrying my practice deeper. I cannot explain it as I do not understand how it works, but I can certainly feel the energetic difference between the teachers.Sadly, there is a very big “however” to this experience. The teachings here are of often contradictory, if not hypocritical The lecture about Asteya (non-stealing) started with “The instruction is very clear cut: ‘ do not steal. period. No exceptions!” At the end of the lecture, when the teacher was asked why Agama is photocopying copyrighted materials (and then adding its own copyright to the copied material) he starts with “copyright laws did not exist in the times of Patanjali” (who wrote the Asteya sutra) and finishes with “It for the greater good. And besides, once you reach a certain state of evolution, you are beyond these rules”.The teachings are heterosexist (everybody/everything is assumed to be heterosexual) and even somewhat homophobic. When the Swami was asked about homosexuality he seemed to think that all gays were transexuals.While we are often told that “yoga is not a religion” the teachers here keep on bringing examples from Jesus’ life and teaching to illustrate their point. The fact that the existence of Jesus was never historically proven does not seem to bother them. Many of the historical examples they bring up as facts turn out, upon a quick search in Wikipedia, to be unproven and disputed myths.One of my classmates, Daniel Bar-Shefa, an Israeli guy with a constantly positive outlook on life, has been reminding me to collect the gems and let go of the manure. He seems to do it pretty easily. I, however, am still trapped in the habit of pointing out the dark side of the moon.OM.
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Kas, Antalya, Turkey

Should I stay or should I go?&nbsp;I've been asking myself this question daily in the last few years as I was traveling the world. This past two months in Çirali, where I had a lovely time teaching yoga twice a day, eating incredibly delicious Turkish food, and swimming in one of the most beautiful beaches I've ever seen, the daily answer I kept giving myself was "Stay, of course!"&nbsp;But as I kept on staying attachments to circumstance and outcome sneaked in on me, and as I already discovered before, those carry within them seedlings of suffering.&nbsp;When a new female yoga teacher suddenly appeared in Myland and I was told that I had to share my classes with her I was taken aback. It took me a while (and a bit of effort against unexplained resistance from the owners) to build up the yoga studio there and it seemed unfair to have to give it away without being informed or asked about it in advance. Moreover, the male owner of Myland had romantic interest in her and therefore treated her like royalty. Compared with the aloof and especially unhelpful attitude I've been given by the owners witnessing his interactions with the new teacher was triggering very uncomfortable feelings within me. To make matter worse, Michelle, the new teacher, did not show up to teach two of her first three classes. The first because she was taken for horseback riding by the owner, and the second because she simply forgot."When the winds of change arrive, some people build walls while others build windmills", says a Chinese proverb. I chose to let the winds carry me away towards new adventures. So a few mornings ago, when I asked myself the "stay or go" question I realized it was time for me to go.I completely know that it was the attachments I've created to circumstance and outcome that created this "suffering" &nbsp;and that I could have easily stayed in Çirali for much longer (I was invited to stay till November) but as Abraham-Hicks says "You never get it done" I realized that while this experience was very close to manifesting my dreams it was still not "it" exactly. I want to live with other yogis who love and support each other, and it was certainly not the case here.&nbsp;So as I continue drifting west on the Turquoise Coast of Turkey, I'm focusing on the many things I'm grateful for and appreciate in my life. And oh, what a glorious life I have, and what a wonderfully marvelous two months I've had in Çirali; from witnessing baby sea turtles hatching and marching to sea, seeing an adult sea turtle in the water, sleeping on the beach under millions of stars, cooking with Yetish, the incredible cook of Myland, teaching yoga to some beautiful people, making lovely new friends from all over the world, receiving generous donations made towards my yoga teaching, swimming joyously at least once (if not twice) a day, taking boat cruises, getting incredible massages by a very talented masseur named Funda, and seeing many many sunrises.Om, Shanti, shanti, shanti, OM.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1249393219/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1249393219/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/yorron/within/1249393219/tpod.html Tue, 04 Aug 2009 10:03:49 -0400 THE JOURNEY WITHIN: Using unfamiliar destinations as a backdrop, I plan to dive deeper inside myself to explore undiscovered truths within.

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Kastellórizo, Dodecanese, Greece

The island of Kastellórizo (or "Meis", as the Turkish call it) is in swimming distance from Kas, Turkey and hours from the Greek mainland.The many boat lines from Kas to Kastellórizo run mostly for the sole purpose of visa runs for visitors who want to extend their three months visa. While I still have a month left on my visa I chose to join my new friend Francsis, a fellow yoga teacher I met in Çirali, who had to extend her visa. 40 TL later (round trip) I can now say that I've been to Greece (Yes, I know it's ridiculous, but aren't all borders and countries ridiculous to begin with?)Despite its proximity to Turkey the architecture on the island is undoubtedly Greek. So are the prices, which are almost double from the Turkish side. Nevertheless, it was lovely to roam the little village their, eat a Greek salad and stewed octopus at a charming little restaurant with especially friendly owner. Also, I may be risking my life for saying this, but the Turkish coffee I had here (called "Greek Coffee") was far better than all the Turkish coffees I had in Turkey.On the way back I got to see my first dolphin, which decided to race our boat for about 15 minutes. S/he easily won. It was AWESOME!!!!So now that my passport has a Greek stamp in it I feel that this tiny sampling was enough to leave me with wanting more. Who knows, maybe it will be soon.
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