It’s that time again- Sunshine Yoga Life 200-hour Teacher Training is about to start up! Last year we had so much fun training a whole new bunch of inspiring yoga teachers, and this year is shaping up to be just as exciting with some new program additions. The new yoga studio in Mountain Lakes is a spacious yet intimate setting – and there are only a couple of spots left in the program, so if you’re interested contact Jess now! Continue reading
Yoga is often thought of as an activity for privileged white chicks with large engagement rings on their fingers, Coach purses on their arms, and venti Starbucks cups in their hands. However, this could not be further from the truth. Yoga is a practice developed in India, passed down through texts that are thousands of years old. One of the oldest texts is Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, which was compiled around the year 400 and has been widely used for yoga practice since about 1000. The first phrase of the sutras is Atha Yoga Anushasanam, which translates to “Here and Now is the Time for Yoga.” Yoga is for everyone, regardless of age, race, gender, or expendable income. More importantly, everyone can benefit from yoga practice – especially those who have financial stresses and may not be able to afford it.
Now is the Time for Yoga
Atha Yoga Anushasanam
Although there are lots of totally legitimate reasons why yoga is so expensive (which I will cover in my next post), the bottom line is that the cost can prohibit people from practicing. As a recent college grad, small business owner, and driver of a vehicle that recently stopped running, I TOTALLY understand that not everyone can shell out $22 for a yoga class. So here are some top tips for how to get the benefits of yoga on the cheap.
How do you feel about yoga adjustments?
As a new yogi, I hated being touched during my practice. I slipped into the asanas the teachers described, found comfort in them, and did not want to be adjusted. In hindsight, I realise I resisted adjustments because I was relying on strength and poor alignment to do poses I wasn’t flexible enough for.
There’s a fine line between “honoring your body” and being just plain lazy – but on the other hand, working too hard will usually prove counterproductive. I’m not just talking about yoga – like so many aspects of yoga, this applies off the mat too.
To those who aren’t in the know, yoga usually brings to mind gentle stretching, soothing music, and a general air of peacefulness. Those of us who are in the know expect to feel relaxed after class, but also realise it takes a lot of hard work to get there. You won’t glean all the benefits of yoga just by showing up.
How do you work hard in a yoga class while still feeling relaxed?
Chubby in 2008 and bulked up in 2012 – scroll down for post-yoga…
People ask me about this all the time, whether they come to class because they want to lose weight or whether they are skeptical of how something so relaxing can help. I can personally testify that yoga can do wonders for your waistline. When I first started exercising about five years ago, I was 30 pounds heavier than I am now. I overdosed on cardio and lifted insane amounts of weights, I kickboxed and bellydanced and ran 25-35 miles a week, and within about a year of exercising at 6 AM every single day without exception, I was 30 pounds lighter. Continue reading
Well, I have been back in the US for a month now and I’m still enjoying the novelty of hot showers, faucets with potable water, and pizza delivery. As incredible and beautiful as my time in India was, the holidays are a great time to be around those you love. But after a couple months away I feel like I have shed everything that was bad and am only left with the good!
When I moved to India, I was exhausted and thoroughly depleted from three years of constant stress. But when I left India, I was exhausted again. I had spent the first month and a half relaxing and stripping away the negativity I had harbored for the past few years with daily yoga, meditation, and pranayama – but then felt like I undid a good portion of that with eighteen hour train rides and bumpy, nauseating bus trips as I rapidly made my way from the very south of the country to the very north. I was no longer depleted, but I was simply tired – so I thought I would have no problem sleeping, eating, and just enjoying time with friends and family throughout the holiday season.
Meditating is hard. Many yogis who have been practicing for years still have trouble detaching from the distractions of the outer world and silencing their inner voice on command. Simply sitting still and trying to shift into “meditation mode” is extremely difficult. On the other hand, guided meditation can sometimes be effective but it can also become a gimmicky crutch.
Yesterday, we did a Buddhist meditation that I think is just the right mix of guided and natural. I tried to find out more about it from an online source somewhere so I could share with you, but could not locate anything. Luckily, it is very simple to explain. I found it to be particularly effective because it first allows you to acknowledge the world around you before you sort of transcend, so it is ideal for loud spaces where quiet meditation would otherwise be difficult. For me, it also led to some pretty vivid perceptions in the third phase.
Since graduating last May, I’ve had many adventures including but not limited to sliding on glaciers in Iceland, hitting casinos in Vegas, climbing Macchu Picchu in Peru, buying a car, becoming a certified yoga instructor, riding steam trains, skinny dipping in Croatia, partying with the Scorpions in Prague, stowing away in Geneva, enduring a hurricane, bartending at strip clubs, running a half marathon, completing a tough mudder, baking my first pie, and having a full time job. I met so many awesome people and had so many thoroughly unforgettable experiences that it’s a little difficult to think about what comes next.
I’ve been working at Marketsmith, Inc for over two years now, after starting as an intern in the summer of 2011, telecommuting while at school, and graduating university a year early in order to return for a full-time position. I’ve learned so much and worked with some really special people on the skilled and talented Marketsmith team. I enjoyed my work and am so grateful for the many opportunities offered to me.
However, anyone who knows me (or really has even met me in passing) knows that I am not good at staying in one place for too long. I’ve been seeking out my next big adventure for awhile now, and I think I’ve found it.
A word we hear a lot in yoga is “surrender.” I’m fairly type-A: very driven, often ambitious, hard-working, frequently stubborn, and of the firm believe that if I work at it enough, I can have it all. Needless to say, “surrendering” is not an easy concept for me. But there are two sides to this dilemma, because there is a very fine line between surrendering what you cannot control and becoming complacent.
My background is in Ashtanga (one of the more physically intense forms of yoga, it was invented in Mysore to get raucous schoolboys to calm down) and the only type of “surrendering” we really do is at the end of a practice after we’ve expended all of our energy, and perhaps in a few downward dogs in between. In the past few months, I’ve been studying with a wider variety of teachers and experiencing different styles. I’ve also been reading a lot more Eastern philosophy. For some reason, the word “surrender” keeps coming back to me.
Cease resistance to an enemy or opponent and submit to their authority.
I began my yoga teacher training (well, it’s becoming increasingly apparent that it actually began long ago, but now I am officially enrolled in a 200-hour course) at Starseed Yoga in September, and it has brought a great deal of sanity to my topsy-turvy life. The teachers are knowledgable and supportive, and everyone in the studio is always so very friendly. As a result of teacher training and in preparation for when I teach more classes on my own, I have found myself in a few beginner classes both at Starseed and at the studio nearer my home – and let me tell you, they are HARD. Continue reading
I was watching The Buddha at the gym the other day, so naturally when I left I was thinking about Siddhartha’s journey to enlightenment. The phase in particular that was on my mind was his time spent as an ascetic, depriving himself of all worldly pleasures and experiences in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment.
I think there’s something to be said for this- there definitely appears to be a disconnect between people as spiritual creatures and humans as animals. This isn’t only the case for humans, though- I think it applies to other creatures too. All of us are simply souls residing inside our physical bodies- I believe C.S. Lewis said something about that in a far more eloquent way, actually. Obviously this isn’t a novel idea, but its a dichotomy that any sentient being has to grapple with. The world can be a dangerous place for a soul seeking enlightenment.
At the same time, it seems naive and a bit irresponsible to just abstain from all things worldly entirely. Of course, we are defined by our souls more than we are as humans, but is it not relevant that our souls are living in bodies on this place called Earth? Should we really spend all of our time here trying to escape? The world is full of suffering, but it’s also full of wonder. We can learn a lot about our souls from experiencing both.
Of course like all paradoxes that we deal with, a balance must be struck. I would think it’s helpful to experience one or the other or both walks of life in order to realise that neither is spiritually ideal. We can’t live like Siddhartha in his early years, lavishly and wastefully. But we also needn’t constantly deprive ourselves constantly in order to cultivate the higher being residing within all of us.
How do you balance the experience of life with spiritual health?
Home is where the heart is.
Cliche, but true. However, it is never taken literally enough. Home is exactly where the heart is- it is your body. You live nowhere else but inside your physical being.
The period in life between high school and finishing university involves lots of traveling for most people, whether it’s taking time off to see the world or going back and forth between “home” and school. It’s a period of transition, and I know that I for one have never felt particularly settled in any one place (granted, I seem to have a crippling inability to stay in the country for more than three months at a time, but still), even the home where I grew up. Life in general is constantly moving; sometimes it ebbs and flows but the waves are always there. We are nomads.
This can be quite a crisis- it seems to be part of human nature to try to find one’s place in the world- a sort of niche where you fit in, a sense of belonging. It’s what makes us travel and explore the world, and also try new things. But at the same time, it can create a huge amount of angst.
I think that where you physically are has very little to do with how at “home” you feel. To me, “home” is a sense of security and assuredness. It’s typically associated with a place, but I don’t think it has to be. I can feel at home anywhere from the mountains in north India to a tiny dorm room in Syracuse, and I think that sense of adaptability comes from a sense of security with who I am.
A sense of belonging isn’t something you need to find in a place, it’s something you need to find in yourself. It’s a sense of self-reliance rather than dependence on a place that makes you comfortable. Perhaps travelling the world and visiting new locations will help you discover who you are and find that self-assuredness, but ultimately your true home is nowhere else but your own body. Be comfortable in yourself and with yourself, friends. Namaste!
More about India! This is a followup to my first post about Dharamsala. Less Hangover-esque shenanigans, more monks and motorcycles.
After I woke up for the second time on New Year’s Day, I asked the coordinator exactly what was in store for me. It was like a terrible rendition of “Who’s On First.”
Me (groggily): “So, where am I volunteering today?”
Me: “Oh god, no more beer.”
Me: “No, we drank beer last night…shouldn’t I be in orientation or something?”
Him (insistently): “No, beer!”
Him: “We are going to beer.”
Me: “Wait…spell that?”
Me: ”Bir….is it a place?”
Him: “Yes, we will leave in one hour!”
So, we piled into a taxi with one other girl who had just arrived from the US and four volunteers who had been visiting Dharamsala for the weekend and began our trip through the gorgeous Kangra valley. It was about 2.5 hours of winding mountains and valleys with fields of rice and tea and small towns every so often. We took the first day to recover from all of the travelling and get oriented with the small town. Bir is a Tibetan colony so although it is in India, most of the locals are Tibetan. Their primary language is Tibetan (much to the dismay of two girls who had been learning Hindi) and their culture is a bit more westernized than most of India. The Tibetans are mostly businessmen that own shops in the center of town and the Indians tend to do the labor, such as building and making clay. They seem to coexist very well, but there’s a very clear divide between the cultures that I found somewhat unnerving.
On the second day, we began to teach the monks. We taught at two monasteries, Nyingma and Chok ling. We had been told that we would be assisting teachers who were already following programs, but in reality we were introduced to about 20 incredibly polite but slightly confused boys between the ages of 6 and 17. Many of the boys at Nyingma already spoke decent English, so it was very challenging to find new things to teach them. I taught the more advanced group- by the end of my time there, they were beginning to understand how to arrange sentences into a cohesive story.
Bir is a very small town, so you see the same people every day. I continuously ran into the same guys that I had spent New Years’ with, and nearly every night we went out driving, drinking, and dancing. It’s funny because in the US, when someone asks you out for a drink you usually go to a bar. In Bir, you literally go out for a drink- you go buy a bottle of something and sit on a mountain and drink. I much prefer this, to be perfectly honest. Sometimes we ordered food from a nearby Indian restaurant and they brought it out to us while we danced under the stars with music pumping from a car. It was a bit chilly, so sometimes a bonfire was involved as well. Sometimes the other volunteers and I would go for tea at the tea garden down the road. It was beautiful- I can only imagine what it would be like in the summer.
One experience that I particularly enjoyed was going to morning prayer. We went to our two monasteries as well as another one, also called Chok Ling. The monks were very accommodating- they rolled out mats for us and brought us tea while we sat and listened to their chants. It was wonderfully meditative, and they used some really interesting instruments.
Another thing I learned to love (in about four seconds) was motorcycles. Drunk me had made particularly good friends with a local named Jigme on my first evening and he had promised me a ride. Sober me did not remember this, but Jigme did and after my first day of volunteering he was waiting to whisk me off through the jungle. We went for rides every day, sometimes to temples and sometimes just up in the mountains to watch the stunning sunsets. In the evenings, we went to Chauntra, the next town over, where some of the other guys I had met my first evening lived. They taught me to play a popular game called Shok, which is similar to Parcheesi but played with shells and coins and no board. We unintentionally adopted the most adorable puppy, who accompanied us on our late-night dance parties in the mountains.
It’s strange how a culture so different from ours still has so many similarities- going out for dinner and drinking liquor in fields is also a favorite pastime in the small town that I grew up with. We also like to hang around and play games at people’s houses, or just pile into cars and drive somewhere. I think the main difference is how people treat each other. Everyone in Bir was always friendly to everyone else, especially to travellers. I don’t think new people would be welcomed nearly as quickly back home. The Tibetans are also extremely lackadaisical about their business- one day I needed photocopies, and the machine at the shop I usually went to was broken. Rather than just tell me so, the shopkeeper walked me down the street to his competitor and had him make me the copies. Something like this would never happen in the US- but it’s like the idea of competition just doesn’t exist. In any town there are always at least four stores selling the exact same things, but nobody tries to undercut each other or take business. There’s just a really strong sense of community, which I really loved.
One of the most important mindsets to have is appreciation because it’s one of the easiest ways to stay positive. Being appreciative can take many forms, from a simple “thank you” to someone who held the door open to an entire meditation devoted to a certain thought.
Appreciating other people not only makes them feel good, but you too. Mother Teresa said that “in the simple act of giving, you receive” and it really couldn’t be more true. The simple act of recognising when someone does something special for you not only makes the other person feel appreciated, but reinforces in yourself that someone did something nice. How could this not set off a cycle of kind actions?
I try to take time as often as I can to express appreciation not only for people around me, but also for things. It seems silly, but to me it is calming to honor everything’s purpose in life. I like to appreciate a nice bed to sleep in or a hot cup of soup when it’s cold outside. Perhaps a bed or a cup of soup can’t tell that I am saying “thank you,” but I find that I enjoy these things even more when I think about them with gratitude.
Appreciating serendipity and setbacks is something that I think is very underrated. I don’t believe in luck as much as I do the power of positive thinking, but sometimes the smallest thing can cause a huge shift in your life. I also don’t think that “everything happens for a reason,” but you usually can make the best of nearly any situation so that it turns out in your favor. I had a bit of a negative experience with a particular professor once, and though initially I was angry and disillusioned, it caused me to really re-evaluate my plans at university which resulted in a decision to graduate a year early to take an incredible job opportunity. It’s not true that “one door shuts, another one opens,” because that’s assuming that some higher power is just going to hand you an opportunity. It’s more like “one door shuts, so you need to find yourself another way out of the room.” Obviously initially, setbacks are unfortunate- but with the right mindset even they can turn into something worth appreciating. Sometimes the universe has ways of nudging us in a direction that we may not have seen before.
Of course, the most important thing to appreciate is life in general. Being able to wake up in the morning really is something amazing. No matter what gets thrown at you on any given day, appreciate it and own it!
Namaste, and I appreciate you for reading my blog =)
In the past few weeks I have spent a lot of time surfing YouTube trying to find videos of pieces that I was going to perform on my recital. This is a usual practice for any musician, to see how other artists interpret music, use the stage, and so on. I had chosen a few pieces that had some tricky counting between the piano and the vocalist, and I could not for the life of me find a perfect performance to listen to to get the interaction between the vocalist and pianist into my head. I would find something that sounded good, and then realise that the pianist skipped a triplet or the vocalist came in half a beat late; think that this recording of Nocturne in C# minor was great until he slipped over the run near the end. Eventually, I realised that had I not been studying the music myself, I never would have known. Furthermore, I realised that even though I knew the music and knew that the performer made a minor error, often I still enjoyed the performance. Sure, the girl who sang Telephone messed up the bizarre triplets in the second half, but her staging and interaction with the pianist was so hysterical that I didn’t even mind. The lady I watched performing a Ned Rorem piece switched the words around, but the performance was so gripping that it didn’t really detract from it.
I’m not by any means saying that you shouldn’t strive for perfection. I think if you strive for something unattainable you may not achieve it, but you’ll be better off than if you do meet goals that aren’t high anyway. At a certain point after two or three hours too many in a practice room, I realised that the successfulness of art isn’t really about perfection. I know that this sounds sort of obvious, but I think that as classical musicians we often spend far too much time trying to flawlessly reproduce Bach’s exact counterpoint or perfectly execute a two octave run and not enough time focusing on what exactly our music means to us. Technique is a valuable skill and obviously quite imperative to being a successful musician, but at a certain point it becomes entirely secondary to expression.
So anyway, my quest for the perfect performance was sort of in vain, but I did find something arguably better- I was able to be at peace with the fact that I wasn’t going to be perfect either, but at least I could have a really great time sharing music with everyone who heard.
Thanks so much to everyone who came out to support me! Here are some selections from my recital in case you would like to hear. The first two pieces are in German, but everything else is in English.
Yoga’s been growing in popularity in the western world for awhile now, but it’s been a particularly hot topic lately with practitioners being accused of involvement in sex scandals and Wiccan cults, the New York Times writing about yoga wrecking the body, and now talks of it being an Olympic sport.
I find this incredibly disheartening. First of all, these news items do not take into account the other five branches of yoga. Yoga is not simply physical exercise; it’s not just contorting yourself into strange shapes. While exercise and physical health is a large part of yoga for many people (myself included), it’s really more of a guide for living a meaningful life. The branch of yoga that most think of when hearing the term is Hatha yoga- asanas, or postures, that are intended to clarify the body in order to calm the mind. This is definitely important, but there are also Bhatki (yoga of devotion, love and acceptance), Raja (yoga of self control), Jnana (yoga of the mind, intended to unify wisdom and intellect), Karma (yoga of selflessness), and Tantra (using rituals to experience the sacred). The idea is that a person can use a combination of any of these paths to travel towards enlightenment. Each branch is important in its own way, and the most optimal way to approach nirvana is to integrate all of them into your life.
I love that more people are integrating yoga into their lives. I truly believe that everyone can benefit from following any one of its branches, even just a little bit. Yoga is an ancient set of methods designed to try to help citizens of the world heal physically and mentally to reach a state of peace. Yoga as an art should not be judged because a few people abuse its ideals for personal gain, and it should not be judged because those who are inexperienced and lack a proper teacher injure themselves.
Yes, Hatha yoga started as a branch of Tantra- but even Tantra isn’t exclusively about sex. It’s about experiencing the sacred, and while union between man and woman is part of it, it also includes many other aspects such as dedication, purity, and truthfulness.
You can injure yourself in any physical activity if you don’t know what you’re doing. Would you try pole vaulting without someone carefully explaining it to you and taking you through small steps to get there? Of course not. Just like you shouldn’t immediately try balancing on your head without a careful teacher guiding you through the steps preceding it. Yoga is entirely safe if you know your body’s limits and take it slowly.
This brings me to my last point: Yoga in the Olympics. As I mentioned before, yoga is not just postures. It’s a lifestyle. If you can do the most advanced and complicated postures, that’s great- but that doesn’t necessarily make you a better yogi than someone who can barely manage a down dog. Yoga is in the mind just as much as it is the body, and bring a competitive aspect to it is borderline sacrilegious. I absolutely appreciate watching graceful yogis move through asanas, but I would never consider judging them. There is no way to tell what a person is thinking, assess the flow of his prana, see how focused he is while he is practicing- and that is what yoga is about. Bringing yoga to the olympics cheapens the yogic experience to merely contortion and physical strength. I love the idea of accomplished yogis getting the attention and reverence that they deserve, but it shouldn’t be competitive and it shouldn’t be based solely upon asanas. All yogis and yoginis should be honored for their yogic accomplishments in life so far and their progress on their spiritual journeys.
Shanti, friends. Namaste!
When I was in Bir, I learned a common greeting: “Tashi Delek.” It does not translate to “hello” or “good day-” it means “good luck.” I think that wishing “good luck” to someone is a wonderful way of saying hello, but it did make me think about the concept of “luck.”
Someone once told me that I have great luck. I thought about it, and it seemed true enough. However, I also have had absolutely terrible luck. This sort of begs the question- what is luck? It’s perception. There are people who have had more incredible things happen to them than I have, but there are also people who have had more terrible things happen to them than I have. If I were to tally it up, I’d say I come out nearly exactly in the middle- and yet I consider myself one of the luckiest people on the planet.
A major factor of how “lucky” you are is your perception. If you are optimistic, you will automatically be more lucky simply because you focus on the positive. If you are pessimistic, you will remember the negative and naturally feel much less lucky. Luck is sort of a logical impossibility really, because there is no real reason why one person should attract any more positive events than another. A far better alternative to “luck” is the idea of karma. If you don’t believe in the power of positive thinking or buy the idea that good actions done bring good results, that’s fine- the science there is pretty shady too. But if you ask me, anything that gets people to do good or think positively is a good thing.
It’s too easy to blame things on “bad luck.” It’s a way of escaping responsibility. Sure, sometimes things really just don’t go your way- that’s life. But you can always control your perception of it. Though it’s extremely unlikely that thinking positively will cause you to randomly find a fifty-dollar bill on the street, at the very least it will cause you to feel better about little things that happen to you. Thinking good thoughts can cause small occurrences like running into an old friend seem exponentially better, and can also make bad things seem much less tragic.
Whether you believe in luck, karma, the flying spaghetti monster, whatever- you can make luck just by altering your perception of the smallest things. People I regularly converse with always think I have the most amazing life- and that’s true, but only because I perceive it that way. You can too!
Tashi Delek, friends =)
One of my close friends shared this video on Facebook recently, and I thought it was a beautiful and poignant expression of the human condition. Allowing yourself to be alone is sort of like allowing yourself to be quiet and keep excess noise from your life.
Being alone is definitely something that scares a lot of people, because it really does force you to be yourself- you have no one left to impress, you have no need for conscience, and it is really the only time when you are free to be yourself in your purest form. I would venture to say that a lot of people don’t really know themselves because they do not spend time alone.
There’s nothing wrong with that, of course- human beings are adaptable by nature. It’s no secret that people act differently depending on their surroundings- I can be irritatingly cheerful if it’s sunny outside and I’m enjoying a nice walk, but catch me off guard in a practice room and I will most likely be nearly unapproachable. This applies to the people you’re with as well- when I’m around my brother, we’re probably planning mischief or perhaps already in the midst of blowing something up, but when I’m at work I am (believe it or not) entirely capable of being serious.
But who am I when I am alone? I’ve never had to explain it, really. And why would I? As long as who you are when you are alone is somebody that you are comfortable with, that’s what matters. It’s really helpful in the process of finding out who you are to spend time alone, free from distractions and ego, because when you know who you are everything else really becomes a lot easier. Decisions, enjoying life, knowing what you like and don’t like- even being far more confident. When you’re alone enough to stop worrying about others judging you, then eventually you’ll stop worrying about it even when you’re not alone.
I’m not saying to be a hermit by any means. But I feel that humans in general get so caught up in specific relationships and people and connections that we lose sight of the individual. We all need to learn to be at peace with ourselves before we can be at peace with others.
Anyway, I hope you all find some time in your hectic lives to get to know yourselves a bit more. You deserve it!
I saw this NPR article the other day about how attached people get to their sofas. I thought it was an incredibly bizarre thing to write about because I’ve never felt a profound attachment to my sofa. I was thinking about it, though, and I am a bit attached to some of my other possessions. I really like my yoga mat and my teapot. I’m probably most attached to my handbag though, because I’ve had it for years and it has been with to so many corners of the world. Many people have suggested that I get a new bag- my aunt even begs me to let her buy one for me. Instead, I sit and sew patches over patches every time a new hole appears because it feels like an old friend, not just an object.
I try very hard not to get attached to things, because all things are temporary (people are temporary too, but they tend to get their feelings hurt when you explain that you’re not attached to them). Monks and priests of all sorts of different denominations understand the idea of remaining unattached to worldly things, and I think it’s a noble goal. On the one hand, it’s not good to be wasteful as a result of being unattached, but on the other hand, it’s important to be able to let go and move on- both in terms of things that are too broken to fix and people you’ve outgrown.
At the same time, the world isn’t as much fun if you don’t get attached to things once in awhile. It would be a boring place if you only had utilitarian objects that didn’t make you smile once in awhile- I like getting up in the morning to use my bright green tea kettle and I like to see my frog-shaped humidifier in the corner of my room. I like having friends and getting to know people. I understand that these are not essential on the path to ultimate enlightenment, but as long as they don’t get in the way I don’t think it’s a problem to enjoy things like this. I don’t advocate frivolous consumerism by any means, but we’re going to be around in this world for awhile before we move on to the next one, so why not keep around a few things and people to make it more exciting?
You can get as attached to them as you want, as long as you recognise that nothing is permanent and you are prepared to one day let go. As you continue your quest for happiness, your mindsets will change and you might find some of your friends drifting away and others moving closer- perhaps it’s time to let them go their way while you go yours. Maybe that old hobo bag you really love just isn’t efficient anymore because of all the time it takes to mend the holes.
Enjoy attachment to possessions and people while they’re around, but do not depend on them for your happiness. Be prepared to one day let everything go when you move on to an exciting new phase!