Thoughts From a Shoshoni-ite: The Last Week

By the time I can officially call myself a mountain woman (yeah I went hiking--once), I'm preparing to return home. The pressure of time can do that to a person--it kicks your butt into gear to full experience the epicness that is Colorado.

I've met some chickens, seen some mountains, ridden some carousels...every nineteen year old's dream, non?

 The thing about ashram time, is that it is basically a time-warp. A week is a month; a month is a day. You're at Shoshoni forever and for no time at all. Stepping into the "real world," you think "I have all the spirituality in the world!" Then the next day, you're buying a large coffee and munching on some freshly baked ego.
I don't know what freshly baked ego looks like. Hopefully it has a lot of chocolate.



The greatest takeaway that I've gotten from Shoshoni isn't that 108 cycles of a chant is the meaning of life, nor will a series of sun salutations give you insta-enlightenment. Shoshoni teaches that if you give up resistance to dishes and early mornings and just do it, you'll realize that you're more capable than your mind tricked you into believing.

There will be breakdowns. There will be blood. Just kidding, it'll only be a flesh wound. Part of re-constructing yourself is destructing yourself. Not in a "let's go get wasted every night" kinda way. More like "let's pay attention to my patterns for more than two seconds" kinda way. That's what makes Shiva such a powerful deity--the god of destruction. Re-birth has to come from the remnants of something, right?

When you're in a place that advertises itself as completely non-judgmental, it's fascinating to see people's true selves come out. Sometimes this isn't as kittens-and-rainbows filled as the inner self. But the first step is taking that guard down and letting the not-so-pretty emotions come through.

So you think it's impossible to cry over a misplaced mug multiple times? Think again!
Also, you will learn the skill of living with multiple roommates and not wanting to die. So that's pleasant.

I know. This should be some mightily philosophical blog. But oftentimes, when you make some grand revelation, it doesn't really stick. I mean, how many times have you said you're over him, you're over him, than jumped for joy at the latest text? It's really when you forget to have epiphanies, that the true change happens.

Or at least that's what I tell myself at night when I continue to rot my brain with hours of television.

I've also learned that arm balances are hard. When you learn the secret to side-crow pose, let me know.

Namaste.