Kathmandu, Nepal, Himalayan Kingdom

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‘Breathe Ms Debra, and all is coming…”

 

I pulled the scribbled number from the pages of my passport. It was now or never.  Finally I had the hotel operator connect me. The phone line from Nepal to India was a fibre optic fuzz.

 

A man’s voice picked up.

“Hello…yes I’m calling you from Kathmandu…you know the Himalaya. You see I want to come and do yoga at your centre,” I began to ramble away my concerns about heat, malaria or dengue with two little children.” I was trying to talk myself out of going while I explained my situation.

 

Bereft and still in shock over the recent death of my mother, the man patiently listened to me.

“You must come and breathe, you will be better,” he ordered.

I asked the man his good name but could hardly make out through the verbal fuzz now answering me back. I asked again.

‘Sri K. Pattabhi Jois’

I snapped from my spell. OMG. I was on the phone with the legendary founder of Ashtanga Yoga. He was telling me to get in a plane and come to him, with a billion people on the Indian sub-continent, it was clearly a sign from the heavens above.

 

In true Hippy Mama fashion, I packed my bags and, babes in arms, took the next flight to Mysore. For the next six weeks, I woke at the blue hour, drank a pot of coffee, left my sweethearts with a lovely Indian grandmother and walked through the sleeping streets of Mysore in order to Breath.

 

Guruji was right.

 

Breathing and yoga helps restore me. No matter if you are a beginner or an advanced practioner, whether you’re come out of sorrow, joy, economic woes or just a need to connect your mind to your body and soul, just get yourself to a mat. And in the words of our beloved Guruji: Practise and all is coming!

Both my mother and Guruji are both now gone, but their teachings remain.

For those with limited access to studios and great teachers, practice from your home.

 

For those adventurous souls wanting to travel to the Ashtanga Yoga in Mysore Institute.

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