Lake Junaluska: bridge closed, what to do?

So much floating in consciousness. It takes time and patience to find words. 

Guess first, I will stick with basics: that is, how Plan B was liberating and amazing.

Decided on Ashtanga in India at last minute and that my shoulder could handle it. Plan A was to warm up with Andrew Hillam, then go to Mysore to study with Sharath or Saraswatihi. Due to my own errors and various snafus at the Shala, the latter part was not possible this year. 

What to do?  Ke garne? (getting into the N. Indian lingo of things - oops that is Nepali!)

Such exciting prospects!  How about study with certified Ashtangi Louise Ellis in Rishikesh? How about a visit to Ellora and Ajanta, a dream of mine since grad school? How about some spare days that are wide open? All fabulous! 

And so Plan B became the best plan ever.

As for life here, there is no Plan B if Hillary does not win this election. There is a world-wide energy now, that I believe originates in the first chakra (issues of physical survival, safety and security fueled negatively by fear and insecurity.) It has a nasty crocodile-brain edge to it where action and words of violence, illusion, and hate have been awakened to varying degrees in almost all of us. I certainly will cop to it.

So much to say about all this. Briefly, it seems the opposite of the youth, left wing culture of the Sixties when the Red Guard in China and the hippie culture in the West held sway. Be that as it may, right now the situation is causing me great anxiety, dread. What happens if this mad man wins? 

image at Lake Junaluska
 my own (First Chakra) portrait of the other presidential candidate

I've been losing sleep over it, but have discovered a Plan B for insomnia (and perhaps even politics.) Usually after 2 to 5 hours of sleep, I awaken and—this is key—at some point give up trying/waiting to release again into slumber. I begin to observe my mind with curiosity, as if it belonged to someone else. At times, waves of universal love wash over and emanate from me (haha so far, only at night.)  One time, I did something that I always thought was so corny: I counted blessings, or said another way—acknowledged gratitude. 

And you know what? The last of many things I truly saw/felt filling me with joy and gratefulness—was my breath. 

metta metta metta

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