push comes to shove.

i felt sad today.
...again.
and both of my indo sisters cried with me.
i'm not sure why.
they both came to me and asked me "kenapa?"
"why?"
for some reason both times, once out front and once in the kitchen i welled up with tears.
why, what?
i don't know exactly what they were asking me with that word.
i assume they felt my energy or saw the sadness wiped across my eyeballs.

did it matter?

i was emotional... this was good.

i haven't been able to cry in such a long time.
i can tear up and my eyes will leak a few salty drops, but i haven't been able to fully cry in such a long time.

i think i am broken.


i practiced yoga and meditating under my favorite kamani tree this morning...
"pohonga" is what miwa, the new hostesseuse and i called it.
pohon means tree.
it's tree yoga.

i lay there after my sun salutations and hip openers and i thought about pushing.

most of us are born in the western world our mother screaming and sweating, beat red in the face... our father doing the lamaz breath and screaming back at the mother "PUSH PUSH!"... the doctor yelling over everything "OK, one more big push!" and then BAM we are in the world.
our lifetime begins.
the stopwatch clicks on and our first inhale is taken as our mother and father exhale out... sigh and collapse in a sweaty, bloody heap of joy.

most of us are born in a state of PUSH.

i have been focused for a long time on the proverbial push... and recognizing when pushing becomes shoving and it all becomes too much.
when there is shoving, there is resistance from one side.
a lack of ease.
DISease.

i have been anti-pushing for such a long time.
i don't believe we should go against a current or push back if the universe pushes you in a direction.

ironically i was born while my mother was under general anesthesia. she said she dreamt about bunnies and woke up with me in her arms.
it's a dangerous way to give birth, but under rare circumstances (like my mothers) - they will put the mother under.
send her to sleep.
into dreamland and perform a c-section and let the baby plop on out of her mommie's tummy, like i did.

there was no pushing when i entered the world.

as a teacher, i believe in the gentle encouragement like the little engine that could "i think i can... i think i can"... but never pushing into a state of discomfort.

this pacifist way of life has served me and allowed me to just go with the flow... but sometimes you watch things float on past you and it's a little sad.
it is maybe a little pathetic to just surrender and not put up any sort of a fight.
sometimes i will really want something but stay quiet and passive, and provided nobody else wants it too that is going to push past me... i will receive it.
but as long as there is a pusher, i will lose out somehow.
usually i just accept it.

i definitely don't want to fight.
and i don't want to be shoved.

but i think that a gentle push from someone i love can be a really positive thing and i have moved far away from that... i have positioned myself in a lifestyle where there is nobody to push me, but myself.
and i have somehow let myself flow into a state of being where i no longer have the energy to push myself and have gone deaf to my inner self's "i think i can" chant...

i am feeling needy for encouragement from others, especially as i begin this transition from the island and into my next chapter of traveling.

i emailed my dear friend Robin, in Venice this afternoon.
I told her a little about this realization and how much i miss the gentle push from our friends and reflection connections in Venice beach.

i am thirsty for the light of my teachers in venice that i love to drink in.
i am hungry for guidance and gentle reminders.
i am craving a mirror that gently pushes me.

that mirror mirror on the way that shows me what i love about myself.

I know that once i reunite with my people i will feel encouraged and start to feel more empowered and alive, but at the moment, i just feel a little depleted.

i sat up under the tree and pulled petals off a bright red hibiscus flower growing near by. i buried 5 petals in the sand, one by one, and placed a bulb from the kamani tree on top.
sending blessings to 5 people who came to mind and have been in my dreams often.
i don't know where this weird ritual came from, but i made it up and it felt right to do.

i just closed my eyes and let 5 faces of friends come to mind without thinking too much about it.

The fifth and final blessing was for someone who i don't speak to... and it pulled a great blanket of sadness over me.

wrapped in that emotion i walked back and sat on the steps looking out at the ocean i love so much, wishing i could cry.


yona walked up and sat next to me.
She said to me "when i hear you laugh, i laugh. when i see your tears, i have tears."

i hadn't had a tear yet at that point, but when she said that i felt a few run down my cheek as i smiled and shook my head.

she said she knows. and she dreams about me.
she said that sometimes she hates herself and knows i am the same.
she said she talked to her uncle about me (the medicine man in siberut) and said that she wants to take me there. i want to go.

we talked for a long time and the more things i thought of that made me sad, pulled this seemingly endless thread of sadness and kept drawing up more and more things that were coming out.

i needed to shake it off and stop pulling up this root that pulled up roots further down the path...
so i stood and i went for a mandi laut swim in the ocean and thought about kahlil gibran

"there must be something sacred in salt, for it is in our tears and it is in the sea."

i pulled a few tarot cards in the gudang while i was getting dressed and dried and then came up into the kitchen.

linda saw me walk into the kitchen
and popped up to sit on the counter next to where i was preparing my green salad.

she asked the same way yona had....
"kenapa?"

again i shook my head and smiled and felt a few tears run down my cheeks.

this time linda seemed to pull the thread from within her.
she started crying and telling me about her dreams.
about her father who is sick and her sister who is sick now too...
her sister is in the hospital on sumatra and her father is getting traditional healings up in the jungle village on siberut.

yona walked in as i was finishing making my salad and linda was still sitting on the counter watching me.

we all looked at each other and welled up with tears and group hugged.

maybe we all needed a little hug. a little tender love.

i miss love.

i never thought i would say that.

in my belief... in my deepest philosophy in life i think that everything is love.
and yet. i feel an absence of it here.
i feel a coldness lately... a hardness
and i don't understand.
mostly because it is 90 degrees every single day and the sand and the sea are both the texture of silk.

so i recognize that it is something inside of me.

i think that i am lacking warmth and love inside myself... FOR myself..
and that is why the universe is reflecting back these feelings.

and SO... today i chose to love myself.

i will go plant a hibiscus flower for me.
and recognize that my skin is something i really like about myself.
its really soft and cuddly and i appreciate it.

i think we should all find something we like about ourselves today.

because when push comes to shove, we are the only souls inside our skin.

we only have ourselves to depend on, to teach us and to love us.

so lets love us.

i think i can... i think i can...