Taking Comfort

Kerala, January 2016

What strange trajectories life can take. 

I remember thinking this lying in my bunk at the Ashram, staring up at the world map pinned to the crumbling wall next to me. I'd been in India for less than a week, and I had already found a rhythm to my days and nights, enveloped in comfort--more comfort than I'd felt in a long time. Ever, in fact. Comfort. A word as foreign to me as everything I was now surrounded by. I had walked away from one life to live a completely different one. I'd done this before so the concept wasn't new to me, but India was. And, I was noticing, so was comfort.

Chiang Mai, December 2023

I'd left Chiang Mai in a state of discomfort days before the new year. Six weeks prior, I'd returned from the US to an unwelcoming energy that left me frustrated, drained, and eventually injured in a way that stopped me from doing many things. There had been a series of events stretching back to earlier in the year that had me questioning my relationship to this city and many people in it. Was I still thriving here? Was I tapped into community in the same way I once was? Did I have any friends left I could turn to and trust in a time of crisis? Had I outgrown my time here? 

Kolkata, January 2024

In the heart of a bustling city, I found all the answers I needed. Venturing out of the comfort of our cozy Kolkata hotel and later the safety of the monastery, I expected to get caught up in the chaotic energy of the world around me. I expected discomfort. But, much like my first time in India, I didn't. In the midst of nonstop traffic and honking and crowds of people, I found peace. 

I found comfort in a bookshop off of busy College Street where we found a book I'd been trying to track down for nearly a year. I found comfort (and the best coffee ever) in a well known noisy, crowded café. I found comfort wandering parks and libraries, sipping chai at a small roadside stall, and meeting monks and philosophers and enthusiastic students. I found a sense of acceptance and belonging I'd forgotten I could feel. 

Rishikesh, March 2016

After nearly three months in India, it was in a yoga teacher training course where I finally learned not to get caught in the washing machine (as our teacher so eloquently put it)--a lesson I'd be reminded of again and again over the years, one that would bring me back to center when the world around me seemed to keep knocking me down and luring me back into the spin cycle.

Goa, January 2024

The dark sky took me by surprise. It had been awhile since I'd seen sky so clear--the constellations and planets brilliant against the moonless sky. We walked the length of Agonda Beach, from one edge of the bay to the other and back. The gentle break of the waves was the only sound, and their cool splash around my ankles kept me grounded. I'd only been to a handful of places like this in my life--dark sky and ocean--one of the last being on the northern coast of Borneo several years ago, one of the first during a journey induced by a hypnotherapist nearly 10 years prior, learning then that this space of dark sky and water was where I needed to be to feel safe, to bring me comfort when I needed it most.

Chiang Mai, January 2024

After having spent nearly four decades of my life in a mostly constant state of discomfort and anxiety, what comfort I found lying in that Ashram bed I've carried with me. I'd like to think it's what's guided me toward and away from most people and places and things that have crossed my path these past 8 years. Being back in India reminded me what comfort feels like. I returned to Chiang Mai with a renewed sense of vitality and a plan to help me navigate through my life during the times I'm based here. So far, it's working. 

Where do you find comfort? What brings you back to it when you find yourself spinning in the washing machine?