Acro Yogis are Like Puppies -- Boulder, Colorado

I'm starting this post from the nest-like chair in the corner of my brother's small apartment in Broomfield, Colorado. Cosette thumps about with precarious, deliberate steps (balancing her gigantic head is a more complex maneuver than anything I've done in acro yoga thus far), thrusting well-chewed books at me, diaper twerking to Jack Johnson and trying to drink my tea.

I'm glad I'm only staying for a few days... if I were staying any longer, I might get attached to this little monster. And I don't want to be attached to little monsters. 

Jessica teaches some online classes at CMU, so she persistently types away from the other corner of the Broomfield Bourget's living room.  

I try to focus on this. My blog. Something that's been difficult for me lately.

Writing about Colorado is hard. I guess there is still a rather significant part of me that wants to be from a place. That wants a base. That wants to feel at home enough to abandon the camera and just move through space like everyone else who's been here forever. I don't want to be a tourist. Or a traveler. Or whatever it is I call myself these days.

Immersions tend to attract people from all over the world. One of the most common questions acro yogis ask one another is, "where are you from?" or "where do you live?"

I never know how to answer this question.

"Umm... I'm from Grand Junction. But I don't live there anymore."

I'm so desperate to not be associated with Grand Junction. I want to feel the peace of being FROM somewhere, but traveling has become part of my identity... and I seem to need to make people know that I'm a mover. 

"Well, where do you live?"

"I live out of my bag."

"What?"

"I'm a long term traveler. I just finished sixteen months in Europe and am about to start a five year adventure in Central and South America."

One more month. God, I can't believe it. This lady starts the next phase of her adventure in a little over three weeks. 

Life has been coming together for me in a mindbogglingly simple, reassuring manner.

When life comes together to make things happen, you get the feeling that you're moving in the "right" direction.

Whatever that might mean.

You feel harmony.

However that feels.

There's so little resistence. 

I needed money.

My old gardening boss, and old yoga student, and the dear friend who visited me in Istanbul gave me gardening work. Immediately. So much work that I hardly have time for it.

I needed some yoga training.

Divine Play in Portland and the Solar Immersion in Boulder just happened to happen right around Janet's wedding.

I needed to sell my laptop.

An old friend and work colleague offered to buy it.

But even though things are coming together, some of it's still hard.

I want to be gone for five years... how do I prepare for five years? 

The same as I would prepare for one week. Take enough for the moment and allow the future to unfold. Yeah? 

F*ck that. I'm scared. This whole "no money" travel business is more terrifying to me than I let on to anyone. Including myself. 

And it's okay to be scared. I know why I'm doing this. I think I understand the risks. I also think I understand the benefits. And I still wanna do it. No. I still need to do it. What's that Dr. Who quote about courage? Mmmm.... "Courage isn't about not being frightened, you know. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway." 

Ha. Just worked Dr. Who into my blog. Winning. 

For some reason or other, this is what I have to do. And some how or other, I'm going to do it.  Although I'm not absolutely certain I believe in dying in the trying, I am certain that feet will be going in that direction. Are going in that direction. 

And I'm certain that it feels right. 

The last few days have been spent in Boulder, jumping into handstands and free-shoulderstands during the day and passing out like a pineapple in the nest chair at night.

I haven't practiced Spanish. I haven't written. I haven't studied yoga sequencing or how to give a better Thai massage.

I haven't done anything but acro. And sleep. And that has been quite enough, thank-you very much (says my burning traps and tight triceps).

This has been the most technical immersion yet, but also the one wherein I've felt the most support and community.

Knowing people really helps in these situations. This is the first acro event I've attended with friends. Jessica's encouraging smiles are more helpful than she knows. Goodness. Why are yoga trainings the scariest, funnest, most demoralizing,  most uplifting things ever?

Because acro yoga has managed to become one of the things I love the most. God knows how that happened. And stakes are always high with the things you love the most. 

Days start off early. I make myself a cup of coffee "Jason style".

For those of you who don't know, my older brother is an intellectual and a chef. This contributes towards perfectionist tendencies in the kitchen and results in obscenely delicious food. When Jason does something, he spends time researching how to do it well. He cooks the perfect egg. Bakes sweet potatoes until they're just the right amount of soft. Brews the most divine cup of coffee.

Jason style coffee involves measuring out exactly 17 grams of beans, grinding them, dripping precisely 40 grams of water over the grounds in an aeropress slow enough for the coffee to "bloom", stirring 5 times, pouring in another 210 grams of water, and then pressing the water through the filter. In approximately 1 minute.

After which, I completely ruin the once perfect coffee by adding loads of milk and a touch of honey. Jess is a much better coffee drinker than I, and adds neither honey nor milk to her perfect coffee.

She can taste the subtle hints of blueberry.

Training starts with the solar asana practice. Done correctly, this 45 minute routine will destroy you.

I do it mostly correctly and am mostly destroyed every morning.

ATB drills are next.

Alignment.

Tightness.

Balance.

EVERYTHING HURTS. 

ATB drills involve a lot of handstands.

Learning how to keep yourself tight helps out later when doing poses like this:  

 And this:

And this: 

and this:

So happy! SO HIGH.

Sometimes I don't understand my fascination with acro yoga. It's a ridiculous activity. From an outsider's perspective, it's just a bunch of bendy people getting bendy on top of each other.

But from the inside?

It's trust.

It's connection.

It's community.

It's play.

And I want to do it forever.

Acro yogis are like big, strong, flexible puppies.

"You're here! I don't know you, but you're here! Wanna play? Wanna play now? Yes, yes, yes!" 

Highlights of the week were getting to know Jess better, hanging out with my Broomfield family, meeting a friend from Divine Play for tea, holding a handstand for five breaths and visiting with Robert.

Robert. One of my only friends who could sympathize with my post homeschool highschool horsegirl tendencies. Robert. The fantastic fellow who's taking me on a roadtrip to Phoenix -- which will be my last time in the US for the foreseeable future.

I'm glad my last moments in the US will be with someone who's known me for so long and loves me regardless.

Three more weeks. Then this wandering heart will be on the move again. 

Although part of me wishes I could stay and just be a part of communities like these: