no visa, no passport. why?

I leave for india in a week.

Oddly, i do not feel like i leave for India in a week.

Does this have anything to do with not having Indian visa in hand....... Yet?

I have been just a little bit more than reticent to share this part of the story with you all.

All.

All, like who is reading right now? Maybe two of you. The two of you who are closest to me, are probably reading this right now. You know who you are. And both of you already know.... the story. That my visa is held up. In the Vancouver office. Some glitch. Don’t know if it is sitting on some guy’s desk, unprocessed, unloved. Don’t even know if they received my fax last weekend with the additional information they requested.

I have a requisition in, a request for tracking of my application, and related visa and passport, but no one can tell me anything yet. “Call back tomorrow ma’am”. How many times have i heard this? This is the Indian mantra. Today I was actually advised by the voice on the other end of the line to go ahead and change my ticket. How disheartening is that? But I am not giving up yet. The only way is to persist. Persist, persist, persist.

And so i wait.

It is such an interesting process. Waiting.

As i allow myself to become unpinned, from routine, from schedule, from day to day responsibilities. As my usual preoccupations gradually shift from teaching yoga classes and making appointments, being a business woman, doing business, i slowly start to come unhinged. The necessary unhinging process.

How do i explain this to most?

Today I described it as letting go into the magic.

But how do I explain this feeling to someone who has never let go? Who has never given up every job, every possession, every relationship, to go travelling? Because inherently, in every trip, there lives the possibility that you will never come back. You may die. You may fall in love....

And its not only that.

I watched a travel special yesterday morning, with Jeremy Piven, a movie star/American tv star, and he goes to India, to Delhi, to Rishikesh. He goes to exactly where I go. He talks to the people I talk to, he stands on the bridge i stand on. Looking out over the river Ganga. And his feeling is the same as my feeling when i am there. I can see it in his eyes. A loosening. A loosening of all the holds and ties and binds that we have to this world. And it is freedom. It is not escape. It is a letting go into what’s real. A release from the worry about how you will pay the rent, or pay your bills or save for retirement. Something else there is real. More real than these things. These things are only superficial. Surface. When you die, those things will mean nothing, how you paid the rent, or the bills or retirement.

So now, during this time that I am pairing down my responsibilities here. Packing. Making plans with friends to say goodbye, to eat dinners..... i am feeling the shift. The loosening. I cannot explain it. I don’t know why i even try. Perhaps because I encourage you all to try it.

It is scary. It is scary when all you have known is security and sameness and stability.

I admire that. I applaud that. I respect that. Security, reliability and stability are very important and valuable.

Sometimes i am envious of those who are satisfied and content with that. Sometimes I feel cursed. Sometimes I feel cursed that I cannot sit still for three full years without a trip, cursed that I get restless and need to move. Cursed that I would give up everything, just to feel free, unencumbered and putting my faith in the universe to protect and provide for me. Cursed that i need this and crave this to feel alive.

Or is it a blessing? To need so little. To live out of a suitcase. To be so adaptable to change. To move so freely. To feel happy when i do. I don’t care if i have nothing. I judge myself for it sometimes, for having nothing, yes. But in that... is a freedom.