YOGA TRIP TO GOA: is there peace amidst the chaos of India? (August blog)
When I gave up my city marketing job I decided to ease the transition into the new yoga teacher lifestyle by going to India. I was tempted by the colours, the smells, the mayhem, and was keen to take some much-needed time out from my hectic lifestyle, to find a place of quiet to practice yoga and well… be a bit spiritual, if you like. India is the home of yoga after all!
If you’ve ever been to an Indian city you’ll probably know what I mean when I say that it’s a beautiful, passionate, crazy, stinking, wonderful place! Quiet? Erm… not exactly. So as someone who went to India on a yoga pilgrimage, of sorts, I thought I’d share the first part of my experience, as I dipped my toes into India in search of some quiet amidst the chaos.
India’s reputation truly precedes it, and I admit that I was a little bit apprehensive about going alone. So with husband back at home (so much easier to focus on yoga) but still a little nervous, I decided to ease myself gently into the bubbling hot tub that is India and booked myself onto a two week Ashtanga course in Goa, at a place called Purple Valley. Two weeks of yoga with world-renowned teachers, vegetarian food (much of it grown on the grounds), amongst the kingfishers (that’s the bird not the beer) and bougainvillea – perfect!
After a few days in the rickshaw frenzy of Mumbai it was like a breath of minty-fresh air arriving in Goa. After being shown to my simple, but comfortable room in the aptly-named Savasana House, all the yogis met up in the communal area; we were handed our water bottle (they are big on sustainability so we were given one bottle and told to re-use it) and had a briefing from the Purple Valley managers and our teacher – an authorised Ashtanga teacher from Tokyo called Tarik Thami. I was quite nervous at first… new people to meet; will I like it? Will I be able to cope physically, mentally? And there seemed to be so many really experienced Ashtangis. Most intimidating of all was the group from Athens who were like a band of travelling gymnasts; when I first spotted them they were playing catch and doing drop-backs as forfeits! Well, this should be interesting…
Next morning at 5.30am we were up with the birds. A morning mist had settled on the garden and I walked down to the shala, took off my thongs and waited to be called in, along with a couple of other super keen people. It was before sunrise and the shala was so quiet. Candles were lit around the room and there was a stillness I’d never really experienced, amidst the hustle and bustle back in Oz. I know Manly is not exactly a bustling metropolis, but this place made it seem like Mumbai! At around 6am everyone arrived and we started off the practice with the traditional chant. I’d not really experienced that kind of connectedness in my Ashtanga before, but as I ‘ommed’ at the end of the chant, I felt something quite awesome; the warmth of yogis together in a kind of yoga communion. Then we started our practice in the traditional Mysore style, which means working through the sequence at our own pace, with our own breath, and being instructed individually by Tarik.
So I took my tadasana position, raised my arms up and started my first sun salute; and I suddenly realised I was wobbling. Really wobbling, I couldn’t stand up… some kind of adrenalin rush. I persevered, but it was strange, like I had no centre of balance. Then I forgot the sequence... too excited I think! I tried to remember that peace I’d experienced at the start and came back to my breathing until I found my ground again.
And that was the way I started every day. It was perfect. We had two hours of Mysore style yoga in the morning with Tarik adjusting and assisting us in certain postures. The beginners group (I was wrong, there were lots of beginners) did a led practice for the first week then they joined the rest of us to do it Mysore style.
The post-practice brekky was a highlight – porridge, toast and fresh fruits, plus the mandatory daily coconut (potassium and electrolyte packed for tired muscles). We had most of the day to relax, swim and chat. Everyone just hung out together and was super friendly, chatting about yoga, life, yoga, India, coconuts, yoga… In the afternoon we did workshops focusing on the tradition of yoga, the history of ashtanga, and finer points of the practice. We also practiced yoga nidra every afternoon, where you lie down and get taken through a guided relaxation and visualisation, which was the perfect antidote to the tropical heat.
Anyone getting cabin fever left the retreat to visit local markets, flea markets, beaches, the Portuguese town of Old Goa. But we mostly stayed in the garden; it was all very relaxed and reflective time was encouraged. Despite the no alcohol rule at the centre, we had Saturday morning off practice (after six mornings a week we were ready for a day off) and hit the beach for some drink Kingfishers (the beer this time!).
The two weeks there were just amazing. I felt so light and open, healthy and happy; it was great to be able to really commit to the yoga, and to find a truly peaceful place to live a simpler life. It certainly wasn’t as strict as going to an ashram, this was yoga living for beginners (like me!).
So yes, I found a place of quiet and stillness at Purple Valley, and it allowed me to find that place within as well. I have tried to hold this with me in my practice, and in my classes back here in Manly. The real challenge is to slow things down when we’re faced with the day-to-day stresses outside, in our real lives. After all, we don’t need to be in India to find that place.
We’d love to hear about your yoga experiences too; or maybe you’ve got a special way to find that place of quiet in your busy life – feel free to comment or ask any questions!
In the next post I’ll be talking pregnancy, babies and yoga with Katie, Qi Freshwater’s Saturday morning pre-natal teacher.
If you’ve ever been to an Indian city you’ll probably know what I mean when I say that it’s a beautiful, passionate, crazy, stinking, wonderful place! Quiet? Erm… not exactly. So as someone who went to India on a yoga pilgrimage, of sorts, I thought I’d share the first part of my experience, as I dipped my toes into India in search of some quiet amidst the chaos.
India’s reputation truly precedes it, and I admit that I was a little bit apprehensive about going alone. So with husband back at home (so much easier to focus on yoga) but still a little nervous, I decided to ease myself gently into the bubbling hot tub that is India and booked myself onto a two week Ashtanga course in Goa, at a place called Purple Valley. Two weeks of yoga with world-renowned teachers, vegetarian food (much of it grown on the grounds), amongst the kingfishers (that’s the bird not the beer) and bougainvillea – perfect!
After a few days in the rickshaw frenzy of Mumbai it was like a breath of minty-fresh air arriving in Goa. After being shown to my simple, but comfortable room in the aptly-named Savasana House, all the yogis met up in the communal area; we were handed our water bottle (they are big on sustainability so we were given one bottle and told to re-use it) and had a briefing from the Purple Valley managers and our teacher – an authorised Ashtanga teacher from Tokyo called Tarik Thami. I was quite nervous at first… new people to meet; will I like it? Will I be able to cope physically, mentally? And there seemed to be so many really experienced Ashtangis. Most intimidating of all was the group from Athens who were like a band of travelling gymnasts; when I first spotted them they were playing catch and doing drop-backs as forfeits! Well, this should be interesting…
Next morning at 5.30am we were up with the birds. A morning mist had settled on the garden and I walked down to the shala, took off my thongs and waited to be called in, along with a couple of other super keen people. It was before sunrise and the shala was so quiet. Candles were lit around the room and there was a stillness I’d never really experienced, amidst the hustle and bustle back in Oz. I know Manly is not exactly a bustling metropolis, but this place made it seem like Mumbai! At around 6am everyone arrived and we started off the practice with the traditional chant. I’d not really experienced that kind of connectedness in my Ashtanga before, but as I ‘ommed’ at the end of the chant, I felt something quite awesome; the warmth of yogis together in a kind of yoga communion. Then we started our practice in the traditional Mysore style, which means working through the sequence at our own pace, with our own breath, and being instructed individually by Tarik.
So I took my tadasana position, raised my arms up and started my first sun salute; and I suddenly realised I was wobbling. Really wobbling, I couldn’t stand up… some kind of adrenalin rush. I persevered, but it was strange, like I had no centre of balance. Then I forgot the sequence... too excited I think! I tried to remember that peace I’d experienced at the start and came back to my breathing until I found my ground again.
And that was the way I started every day. It was perfect. We had two hours of Mysore style yoga in the morning with Tarik adjusting and assisting us in certain postures. The beginners group (I was wrong, there were lots of beginners) did a led practice for the first week then they joined the rest of us to do it Mysore style.
The post-practice brekky was a highlight – porridge, toast and fresh fruits, plus the mandatory daily coconut (potassium and electrolyte packed for tired muscles). We had most of the day to relax, swim and chat. Everyone just hung out together and was super friendly, chatting about yoga, life, yoga, India, coconuts, yoga… In the afternoon we did workshops focusing on the tradition of yoga, the history of ashtanga, and finer points of the practice. We also practiced yoga nidra every afternoon, where you lie down and get taken through a guided relaxation and visualisation, which was the perfect antidote to the tropical heat.
Anyone getting cabin fever left the retreat to visit local markets, flea markets, beaches, the Portuguese town of Old Goa. But we mostly stayed in the garden; it was all very relaxed and reflective time was encouraged. Despite the no alcohol rule at the centre, we had Saturday morning off practice (after six mornings a week we were ready for a day off) and hit the beach for some drink Kingfishers (the beer this time!).
The two weeks there were just amazing. I felt so light and open, healthy and happy; it was great to be able to really commit to the yoga, and to find a truly peaceful place to live a simpler life. It certainly wasn’t as strict as going to an ashram, this was yoga living for beginners (like me!).
So yes, I found a place of quiet and stillness at Purple Valley, and it allowed me to find that place within as well. I have tried to hold this with me in my practice, and in my classes back here in Manly. The real challenge is to slow things down when we’re faced with the day-to-day stresses outside, in our real lives. After all, we don’t need to be in India to find that place.
We’d love to hear about your yoga experiences too; or maybe you’ve got a special way to find that place of quiet in your busy life – feel free to comment or ask any questions!
In the next post I’ll be talking pregnancy, babies and yoga with Katie, Qi Freshwater’s Saturday morning pre-natal teacher.
