Means to an End -- London, England

Walking through London.

I make the conscious choice to stop seeking my reflection in windows of the enormous shops beside which I stroll.

Why am I so desperate to check myself out?  What compels me to analyze the bags under my eyes and the plumpness of my thighs and compare/contrast to the sticky mannequins that are less than half my size (and have significantly less acne)? Project for self. Don't look at your reflection for a month. Focus on how, what you feel instead. Notice perfection in the world around you rather than the supposed imperfections in yourself.

I stopped checking my waistline and started looking at faces.

Asian faces, Spanish faces, American faces, French faces, Turkish faces.

So many parts of the world are meeting here. 

Cameras click, flash, snap.

Faces grin, duck-lip, contrived incredulous eyebrow raise, OHMYGOD and "I'm so natural and innocent looking randomly standing under the shower of crab apple blossoms."

I see more runners than cyclists. I see more cyclists than walkers. I see more walkers than horses (there are a good many equestrians who ride out in Hyde park). I see more happy dogs chasing tennis balls and skittish squirrels than all the above combined.

I hear snippets Italian, French, Turkish, Spanish and German. 

I feel very international. I can eavesdrop on all the pleasantries.

"Buongiorno! Come stai?"

"Yavas, yavas!"

"Guten Tag. Was machst du?" 

A middle-aged creeper approached me as I placed a dandelion in my hair while moseying through Kensington Gardens.

"Bonsoir, ca va? Francaise?"

"Un peu."

Did I just say I speak a little French or I AM a little French? boh. Ce n'est pas important. An excuse to keep moving far, far away from this slimy looking Frenchy.

I hear the bright ding of bicycle bells and the lumbering of buses, grumbling to a start like an old man getting out of a couch with swallowing cushions. 

Walking through London, I smell cigarettes.

Exhaust.

Indian food.

Starbucks coffee.

Walking through Hyde Park, I smell magnolias. Fruit tree blossoms. Daffodils. Lilacs. 

It's amazing how these vastly different microcosms coexist but don't seem to touch. 

 I see every variety of shop imaginable to man. I see price tags I'd hitherto never imagined at all.

I see hairy rainbow hippies with dreadlocks and harem pants and homemade beanies.

I see business women strutting in stilettos with pencil skirts and briefcases.

Lycra, lycra, lycra. Salamon, addidas, nike, puma -- all the high quality athletic brands are brandished on shoes, backsides and sleeves.

I've just completed my third day of yoga training. I have no pictures to offer and no uniquely amusing stories to tell. For these five days, I am doing my best to remain present, and as cameras distract me from mindful observance, I've chosen to leave mine lonelily sitting in the locker room.

One of my favorite moments was when Erica (a Brazilian acro instructor) told us that humans are designed to find pleasure in giving. The simple, powerful act of giving makes our spirits happy, but it can be difficult to find people who are willing to receive what we have to offer.

"Let me buy you a coffee?"

"Are you sure? I mean, you don't have to."

"Yeah, I'd love to buy you a coffee."

"Well... okay, but the next one's on me."

As adults, many of us allow our guilt and fear of debt to overpower the spiritually, emotionally satisfying act of opening arms, hearts, minds, hands and simply receiving.

In Thai massage and therapeutic flying, we are giving ourselves the opportunity... to give. We are replenishing our spirits, satisfying our beautiful, basic need to give of ourselves.

I contemplated gifts as dusk fell and I waited to meet with Robyn in Kensington Park.

I think we lose touch with the simple beauty of a simple gift. One of the primary differences between children and adults is the concept of worry. Children (hopefully) don't have to worry about not having enough. For some reason or other, food magically ends up on the table, their backs are covered, their beds are warm and everything is peachy, peachy keen. It's only when anxiety and social pressure ("her doll has eyes that open and shut! why can't I have a doll with eyes that open and shut?") enter the equation that we lose touch with intrinsic value. When worry weasels in, the gift of touch... the gift of a dandelion woven into a hat... the gift of a particularly gorgeous seashell or a funky looking feather... these gifts suddenly lose their merit. 

When we worry, we judge.

When we are present, we simply appreciate.

Worry leads us to judge whether or not something is useful to us. Whether or not it will get us out of the uncomfortable place we are and take us towards that idyllic place we so want to be.

Flowers? They're not useful to us. Seashells? They won't put bread on the table. A damn feather won't pay the damn phone bill.

We start viewing gifts as means to an end. Means to ending our worries.

When we judge people based off of how they can serve us, we put them in a egotistical box and lose sight of their inherent beauty. When we judge gifts based off of how they can serve us, we lose the sense of their intrinsic value.

This dandelion won't pay for my next yoga training... but it's a beautiful flower. In and of itself. I get to enjoy this playful bit of sunshine.  

When we recognize that we are already complete and living in the fullness of the present moment, we are better able to appreciate people and gifts (and all people are gifts) in and of themselves and to remove the direct correlation between their value and our "needs".

Extra project for self: Be aware of when you see people and gifts as means to an end. Let go of the "end" and see what happens.