We are all millionaires

It's the end of week two (of nine) Bikram Teacher Training and it's as though the first seven days didn't even exist since they were so different, so far away from the changes that have already presented themselves in days eight through fourteen.

My body is experiencing some serious pain. The pain likes to travel, go figure, just like me. My horrible knees from 6 years of basketball are strengthening, but of course they are letting me know how much they dislike the process. Today, however, I was able to do standing head to knee, full on, the entire posture, beginning to end. (I haven't been able to do it once since I got to Hawaii for some reason.) My right hip hurts so badly that it is keeping me from doing triangle, which is frustrating the hell out of me, because although there are many in this class of 311 people who sit out of more than a few postures, I don't want that to be me. But, I've had to tell my foolishly stubborn side to take it easy and let myself heal before really fucking things up for myself. I somehow seem to forget that I have 7 more weeks of this.

7 weeks. It's funny. During our first 3 days here, many of us felt like we had been here for 3 weeks with all the commotion and adjustments being made. Now, I feel it was just three days ago that I was thinking about how I had 9 weeks ahead of me. Time is a funny thing.

My days have been long, we wake up no later than 7:30 am, go all day, sometimes until midnight or 1 am. We have two breaks in the day that are roughly about 45 minutes to an hour (by the time you get out of the class, up the crowded elevator – or stairs when you're really impatient - and up to your room) in which time you have to shower, eat, wash clothes, prepare for your next class and possibly even start making something to eat for your second break just because you have an extra 6 minutes that day. Anyone who has called me, know that this is why it is damn near impossible for me to talk during the week. Unless of course you are up around 3 or 4 am Pacific Standard Time, in which case I would LOVE to talk as this is about the hour that my insomnia takes over and I would love to hear your beautiful voice.

On the days we plan ahead, which is most days now that we're getting our routine down, a handful of us sprint to the ocean right after our morning class. More students are starting to catch on, what has taken them so long, I have no idea. Maybe because we insist that they are crazy to miss out on such a reward after a tough class. We don't have much time, but as I said, if you've planned well, you can be out there for a good half an hour at least. The salt water is so good for sore muscles and ironically, because of our limited time, we find ourselves even more grateful for every grain of sand we step on along the way, every wave that hits our aching bodies and every drop of sunshine that reminds us that no matter how fucking hard this is, we're in Hawaii. It is so true that you indeed do not appreciate things if they are simply handed over to you. You cherish and value everything much more when you've had to work for it. And if you've had to bust your ass for it…there's no describing how invaluable that thing, whatever it may be, becomes to you.

I can already see physical changes in my body, in just two weeks. I ran my hand across my abdomen while waiting in line, just sort of unconsciously and I didn't even recognize that it was me I was touching. I have the beginnings of what may be growing into a six pack. Another bonus is the fact that I can eat whatever I want. I eat pretty healthy as it is as I've never been a fan of fast food and all that, but I have always been a sweets whore and I justify my cravings for chocolate and cookies and ice cream even more now. I can honestly say that it is pure satisfaction to eat a decadent chocolate mousse cake something-or- another with ice cream and not even think for a moment that it's bad for me. I'm eating an ice cream sandwich as I type this…if you could see my smile you would see it covered in edible, chocolaty sweaters. One sad food note, the imported avocados are $3.50 each. And the locally grown ones are just not as good. I miss California avocados. The best ones I've had back home were the ones I've picked myself. Another testament to the "things are always better when you've had to work for them" philosophy.

I find this whole experience to be strangely parallel to my Ayahuasca adventure last year. Many of us have been drawn to this, as if by some invisible force, many of us started this journey to be healed in some way, be it physically, mentally, emotionally or all of the above. There are people here from all over the world, with many different motivations and life stories. Not at all unlike the very different, yet exactly alike group of strangers I met in Peru. Even the aesthetics of our practice/ceremonial area has similarities. Everyone is to take off their shoes before entering the room. Not only to protect the carpet, but as a sign of respect. We sit on the floor as we listen intently to our Guru, just as we did with our Shaman in the jungle. We never fail to show our gratitude for the gift of his time and knowledge and compassion that he so generously gives to us…(of course we've paid him, but that's besides the point.)

Aside from the physical challenge, which is intense for me, but not totally unbearable – YET - I am being challenged mentally and emotionally as well. I have shed a few tears in class, not big deal it's happened before, and it is expected to happen to many of us. Last night's class was especially emotional for me. As usual, I'm never quite sure why the tears come, but it's such a nice release. I welcome it. The instructors have told us several times that we will hit a wall or some form of 'rock bottom' in the weeks to come – somewhere around week four or five, they say. It's a little disheartening to hear this considering that we all seem to be at a high point currently, feeling sore, but accomplished and positive in our outlook of the near future. It could be likely that next time I write, I will be depressed and beat, angry or frustrated or God only knows what.

Though I've never experienced a 12 step program, I get this feeling like this is the boot camp version of one. As a matter of fact, there are many people here who have openly admitted the horrible addictions they have suffered, and the only reprieve and viable cure they have found is Bikram Yoga. Go figure. I find myself wanting to right all my wrongs, even ones that have long been forgotten, because somehow Bikram makes them resurface (because they never really go away…you hold on to everything, whether you intend to or not. Everything. Coincidentally, I've been told by several instructors that people hold deep-rooted emotional pain in their hips. Funny that my right one is killing me.)

I find I want to say I love you to every single person in my life. Especially those I've neglected to tell recently. And those I haven't talked to in quite some time. I find that I can't wait to truly reconcile the lingering misunderstandings or arguments or just plain old stupid reasons that have made me grow apart from some very special people in my life. And boy, does this make you realize that pretty much every reason is a stupid reason to lose touch with someone you love. And boy, does this make you realize how much you love. And how much you love to love. And how much love you have to give. And the millions of ways there are to give it. And how unbelievably grateful you are to be able to do so. Without even a remote risk of ever running out of it. An endless, eternal supply, at your fingertips, whenever you wish. God, we are all millionaires, to have this something…that costs absolutely nothing…yet is beyond priceless.

I have no idea what the next few weeks have in store for me, but the intensity of the feelings that have grown, re-emerged from somewhere deep down inside, appeared out of nowhere, blown up like fireworks right in front of me are nothing short of mind-blowing. I like having my mind blown. A lot.