At my momz request ....

Welp, as Uncle Mike (chief writer for Recovering Gypsy yoga adventures for the past several years) is happily brewing craft beer in San Diego - I'll try to step back up to this task of bloggery. The group retreat went spectacularly. I had an amaZing group of yogis who were down for most anything - we laughed. A lot. I've missed these yogis since I've taken to the open road, or the open railways at present moment. There are cows and goats and chickens and lotus flowers and people and laundry drying as a hot breeze tickles the peppermint oil on the back of my neck. Anyway. I've just finished visiting Chechi ("big sister") whom I haven't seen for ten years, on my first visit to India. She took me to a little tiny mountain town called Vagamon, where we met some of her friends who run a little clinic for the villagers. The woman in charge is a rare specimen of humanity; she is more concerned with people's well being than making money. They have a birthing center, a small pharmacy, and a couple of cows (they live adjacent to the clinic, not in it ;). The house they live in was designed by a Brit named Lorry something or other - and he believed that architecture should meld to the land, so it's a cool funky building with this crazy view of tea plantations and mountains and gardens. No one around as the eye can see. It's an all ladies situation, inhabited by devout Christians. I found myself in their prayer room as they recited Psalm 91 in Malayalam, as well as some other prayers and chants of which I understood nothing. They explained to me that we already have everything we need - it's been given to us by God. Our problems and our prisons are created by us in our minds only. Pretty rad. Also rad that I was sitting with Christian and Hindu women, all praying together as one. I fancy myself a bit aimless at the moment and am heading to the yoga ashram, which is my home base in India. I remember that my frets are man made, or in this case, woman made. While I definitely miss my family and tribe back home, I also remember to lean into uncertainty and its discomfort to uncover adventure and whatever lessons I have to learn on this wandering path. Om tat sat! (That's that, that's the truth :) Oh, and some signs I saw on the road : "Infant Jesus College of Engineering" and "Green Leaf Disposables and Plastics" - bit of an oxymoron, no?