"I hope not!" I didn't want my 'last' week in Mysore to be any different than the other weeks. That is, I didn't want to cram in everything I hadn't done yet, go on a last-minute shopping spree or put too much pressure on achieving something more in practice. My intent was to be in the moment.
In truth, it's been impossible to not feel the clock ticking down as I go about arranging a car to the airport, assessing what and how much of my things I'll pack and carry home and deciding if I'll leave a trunk of household items in storage here that will be useful for any future trip(s). The question of when and if hangs in the air. All I know is that even as I'm looking forward to being home with loved ones and playing when I get back, this place, my lifestyle here — sleeping specific times for specific practice times, practicing in the shala, eating South Indian food, the sounds, being surrounded by the community of other semi-migratory students for a period of time— has become a bit ingrained. It's so different than my life in the States, but here it is, equal and different in its own way. So, today, not so surprisingly, I worked through a variety of feelings in practice ("Too much emotion," Sharath would say), the irony after two months here being not feeling so yogic! But then that's why they call it practice! Every day it's a new day with its own unique rasa.
After I walked down to Gokul Chats to have my tea and dosa outside, in relative quiet, and wrote a bit before turning on my Kindle (can I reiterate how GREAT a Kindle is for this kind of travel?) and the day really got going. Truth be told, I haven't been studying up on The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali (recommended though!) or the Gita but instead have been loving reading the Keith Richards book Life. It's hilarious. A tale of adventure, the Blues, rock and roll, perseverance ...and ultimately following one's one unique and often irrational bliss. Yeah.