Time & feeling like it’s not enough

Next week I hit 62. It’s 7 years since I decided to retire , I remember that day vividly at AYL and Nikos asking me after practice what I was doing that day, telling him I was officially retiring that day, he was the first person I’d spoken to and told outside of family. Then I’m getting into it and suddenly all the covid shit happens, so the next two years are a bust.

Retirement has taken some getting used to, abortive attempts at part time work, realising daytime tv is bollocks and trying to find ways to fill the time. Yoga is still a huge part of my life and the shala folk are the family I don’t really have in reality, I have one sister, that’s it. But yoga is 90 minutes out of 24 hours.

Last Sunday I invented a new posture, the ricochet dropback. I was very tired by the time I got to backbends, the heat has killed my sleep of late. I was in the narrow one mat wide part of the shala in my preferred spot by the radiator, I dropped back, but landed too far back, tried to come up, but did the walking backwards thing, I had the presence of mind to stick my hands out and managed to bounce off the wall behind me straight into the wall in front of me, but up is up as they say.

7 years in I still travel a couple of times a year, I belong to the monthly local book club, I play in a Mahjong group, I go to concerts, in the last year Haim, Florence and the Machine , Paris Paloma and Anna Lapwood.

But despite the above as another birthday looms I have this feeling that I’m not making the most of the freedom I have to do what I want and like a sword hanging over me to make the most of life. When I had the lung cancer scare (Ive never smoked before you ask) and was eventually told it’s not cancer but there is an “anomaly” a friend told me it’s time to do what I enjoy and what gives me pleasure and satisfaction, this is the wake up call to make it count.

There seem to be a lot of weeks between the high points, the weeks seem to drift by without having done anything of consequence let alone fun, it feels like there’s something missing or more like I’m missing something, but I’ve no idea what it is, but I feel the pressure getting heavier to do stuff while I’ve got the health and fitness to still be able to.

So next Thursday as pretty much every birthday, I’ll be at the shala to mark the day, though with Friday being moon day I’ll only get to do primary. I owe the shala for even still being here, some know there were some very dark stressful periods when I pretty much gave up on life being worth the effort and those who read the signs and reached out are still much appreciated.

21st birthday

Happy 21st Birthday AYL

I’ve been coming for 16 of those years and somehow of those at conference I’m one of the longest, though by no means the longest, some have been there from the start.

Hamish told us how he remembers the day he got the keys from Camden Council and set to work turning the shala into the place we all know and love. In not much over a month he demolished the dividing wall in what is now the main room, laid a new floor, put in the little kitchen, changing cubbies and painted the place the iconic yellow, oh and his wife Anna gave birth to their daughter Talia while all this was going on!

H said quality of practice is far more important than quantity, it’s ok to come in just do Surya Namaskar and closing, if you’ve only got 40 minutes don’t rush to do everything but maybe focus on something specific.

Hamish and Louise gave mini demos, explaining why they adjust Parivrita Trikonasana the way they do, it’s to open the chest and facilitate the breath.

Although I’m one of the older students, turns out I’m nowhere near the oldest, Kazuko turned 80, I hope I’m still doing this thing in 19 years like her.

Louise and Hamish care for us beyond the mat, through illness, death,, depression, divorce and myriad other hiccups in our lives, they support their students, I know for me I wouldn’t be writing this if it wasn’t for them

Unengaged

Is unengaged even a word? It’s Sunday and it’s the second Sunday moon day in a row, so I’m stuck at home, the Shala is closed, Louise is having a well deserved lay in.

It’s not just that it’s moon day, I have a listless energy, there’s nothing to look forward to, I’m kind of going through the motions of life. Unlike the last few summers I’m not going to the US this year, one it’s too expensive with the World Cup, the prices have been jacked up beyond a joke, also after the amount of hassle I had entering the US at Chicago airport last year and the level now of feeling that the USA is no longer safe, sane or welcoming to foreigners and an administration full of total fucking morons, dog killers and conspiracy theorists.

So here I am, unengaged with life, we have reached February and I’m like what does the year hold, the way it’s going I’ll be going to the Shala on Sundays and staying in bed the rest of the week, I’m retired, in theory I could do anything, but with rising utility and food costs it’s not that simple. My friend Janie said I need a project, but I’ve no idea what that could be.

Without planning for a trip, the research of what to visit etc, concerts, I went to 5 last year, the only reason I get up is because I have a very needy cat who demands breakfast even when the human can’t be bothered to feed themselves half the time.

Poll asana’

I’ve been on the list of people who volunteer for working at Polling stations for a while, but 1st May County council elections was the first time they picked me to work. It’s something I’ve wanted to do since I retired and it’s been an interesting and enjoyable experience .

After you get the offer and confirm your acceptance you have to do an compulsory online course , which you have to pass in order to work. The course is interesting and covers everything from rules about who can be there and how the lists and voting system work and which voters can and cannot be given a ballot paper. I had no idea there was such a thing as anonymous voters!

Five of us ran 2 polling stations within one building, all volunteers from different backgrounds, our presiding officer works as a Registrar, 2 of us were retired while the other 2 ran a travel company and the other had the potentially gruesome job of going into council houses to repossess them, which occasionally involves finding deceased occupants.

Our station had 1100 registered to vote, of which only 300 actually did so, a 28% turnout. 300 over 15 hours, 20 an hour, but in reality peaks and big troughs, a rush at the start, lunchtime, when the schools kicked out and around 7pm, our last voter squeezed in 30 seconds before 10pm when we officially closed. We spent most of 7:30pm until we closed chatting and doing a giant cryptic crossword.

You see all sorts of people, from people I know, to people I’ve worked with, to a couple who had a domestic bust up, with her throwing his ID document at him and storming out while yelling “you all see what I have to put up with at home!” Another old lady when asked for her ID couldn’t produce any and started loudly complaining she was our best customer having voted since the year dot and why couldn’t we just let her vote?

The funniest was a sweet old lady, who when asked for her ID produced a Tesco (British supermarket) loyalty card, saying they know who I am, to which my colleague jokingly replied “we only accept Waitrose” (posh supermarket) before pointing out that her bus pass would be acceptable.

10pm shut the door and begin the clear up, before heading home. The time passed much faster than I expected and I hope I’ll be picked again at some point.

#councilelections #hertfordshire #vote

3 weeks later

So on 1st February I had the surgery on my left foot to remove the vascular lesion and the thorn capsule granuloma. It was done under a local anaesthetic, and all I can say about that, is that injections in the foot are fucking excruciatingly painful, yes I did yell out, the nurse was sitting on my leg after the first injection by the wound after I nearly took her head off, the second jab in the side of my foot was beyond painful, I nearly passed out, the nurse was yelling at me to breathe and I thought it was just yoga teachers who had to remind me to breathe!

Anyway it’s done, as you can see by the photo taken by the GP nurse it’s a deep hole 10x5mm and 4.6mm deep, which is going to take a while to fill itself in from the bottom up, it’s bloody sore to walk on, which I’m basically doing as little as possible of.

Yoga is basically AJ’s sitting practice and some handstands being careful to launch and land on the right foot. I can’t do much to warm up, I’ve tried doing seated and some backbends but not being able to warm up its not happening, I’ve also still got the trapped nerve in my wrist, which hopefully an acupuncturist is going to attend to in a weeks time.

So until further notice it’s box sets and tea for the forseeable

Will this year be any better?

Happy New Year, to anyone who still reads along.

After ending 2023 with 2 eye surgeries and an 8 week yoga hiatus, I began 2024 with hope for a decent year. The hope lasted until February when a GP Nurse sent me for a chest X-ray and I got the call about potential cancer. A very stressful period ensued culminating in the awful Bronchoscopy collapse and resuscitation experience and the eventual diagnosis that the stuff in my lung was leftovers from the previous years pneumonia. Thanks particularly to V during this very stressful period.

My practice never seemed to get going last year and has certainly frustratingly regressed, before we came to September and the loss of consciousness in the shala while doing dropbacks with my teacher and the blood tests, monitoring , ENT appointments to try and find the cause, but it looks like Dr Sonia at the Shala was right, it was hot, I was dehydrated and hungry, low sugar and just a bit knackered.

And just as I felt like I was starting over for the third time this year the thorn from the summer that I thought had come out seems to still be in there. A hot water bottle waking it up, reopening the wound has left me in pain and discharging more blood than I can probably spare. In the week around Christmas I’ve attended the Gp three times, Urgent Care, another hospital and had an ultrasound.

The Ultrasound shows a 5mm ball of tissue surrounding whatever’s left of the thorn just below the surface, but nobody in the nhs seems willing to dig the thing out, to eventually get an appointment in the new year with dermatology I had to threaten to get a Stanley Knife and remove the thing myself! Every time I change the dressing it takes ages to stem the red tide, the record being 2 hours last Saturday when my kitchen turned into a bloody crime scene only lacking the chalk outline of a dead body, though if I lose much more blood that could be rectified.

So 2025 so far isn’t starting well, I just hope the NHS get their act together soon.

Update : It needs surgery and now I’m waiting for a date.

2025 does have some hope, in the summer I’m off to explore Chicago and add to my State magnet count by venturing into Wisconsin, Indiana and Michigan while I’m there, there’s also a couple of concert tickets booked for Enigma and Aurora.

I would never have discovered Auroras wonderful eclectic music if I hadn’t discovered the brilliant Anna Lapwood last year, the one concert I got to, and it was fantastic, and I had the chance to meet Anna after was one of the few highlights of the year. Anna played at Auroras concert in London and posted a clip on Instagram and I bought a ticket within minutes of hearing this one piece of music, I was so blown away, the next day I bought the album and it’s been playing on repeat ever since.

So I hope 2025 starts to improve, that my foot gets fixed and my practice comes back

Memories of Sharath

Waking up last Tuesday to the sad news of Sharath’s very sudden passing was a shock to everyone in the Ashtanga community and more so to those of us who have spent months in Mysore practicing under his guidance who knew him a little. 53 is no age.

His passing gave me a massive sense of loss and being lost and suddenly vulnerable and it made me wonder is this the end of Ashtanga , it made me question why I was doing “the thing”, who was I doing it for? I couldn’t practice that day, I tried, but my little black cat must have sensed my feelings and promptly sat on my feet and wouldn’t move. The next day I went to the shala to shift the inertia, it was a strange atmosphere, but I just needed to be there.

Sharath always remembered my name and was quick to smile. Initially I wasn’t sure about him or going to Mysore and the whole circus around it. In April 2011 I’d sent in my application to KPJAYI and received my “You May come” email for the October, but I was still in 2 minds. Late August ’11 his circus came to London and after a week I warmed to him, his humour & somehow he knew my name. As we lined up for the obligatory photo on the Friday, I said to him, “see you in October “. On the Monday I handed my notice in at Nepotism UK Ltd, that was one huge black cloud lifting, getting out of that place.

I landed in Mysore and lined up to enrol, he said “Kevin you came”, before saying “4:30” as he handed me my shala pass and counted my money. I replied “4:30 afternoon?”, he had a big grin as he replied “4:30 morning”.

That was the beginning of a wonderful 3 months, he spent the first two months shouting across the shala “stand up Kevin” as I woefully failed to come up from my dropbacks, then that day, 21st November when I finally stood up on my own and he gave me a high five, before saying “do again”. The next day he told me to take Pasasana. My other abiding memory from that trip was lining up to pay for the second month and seeing my teacher Louise in front of me in the queue being given her Authorisation, I can still hear her saying “what me?” As Sharath slid the sheet of paper across the desk.

I returned to mysore in 2015 and practiced with him when he visited London, he always remembered me, but I was never to go to Mysore again, caring for parents, fractured arms, pandemics and if I’m honest the pull was no longer there, I’m not a teacher looking to be authorised and I get what I need from Hamish and Louise at AYL and the odd bit of input from AJ in Ann Arbor.

His passing leaves a huge hole in our lives, but more so in his young families . I hope the economy of Gokulam can survive, the hundreds of locals who made an income from the hundreds of yoga students renting rooms, eating in the cafes and buying stuff in the myriad shops set up to cater for our needs, the chocolate man obviously being the most important

It’s been a while

Since that day it’s been a journey to say the least, more tests, Bloods, ECG, but after all that it is scarring from the pneumonia and not anything more worrying. A massive dose of antibiotics has mostly cleared up the cough but killed my stomach, thankfully the brilliant Janie fixed it.

After the diagnosis Janie also gave me some great advice, to do what I want and do what makes me happy.

That means yoga, travel and concerts. Yoga has taken a while to get going again and some days I’m sadly lacking in energy. I’ve been doing different movements to try and feel better, Barre fitness , I’m extremely uncoordinated, but it’s fun and engages the brain and handstand classes with Hanna, first class online at the end of April couldn’t get off the ground, mid July in person class she had me doing one in the middle of the room. It’s hard work, Hanna says hours and hours of practice and drills for seconds of joy and balance.

A trip to New York at the end of May, hanging with Suzanne, exploring her city.

Back here I tested my lung by climbing London’s Big Ben, 334 steps, something that’s been on my bucket list for a long time.

I failed to get a ticket for Florence Welch proms concert at the RAH in September, if anyones got a spare please get in touch, but I did get one for the brilliant organist Anna Lapwood at John Smiths hall in Westminster . Anna has made organ music accessible with her versions of music like Chevaliers de Sangreal, aka The Davinci code and Interstellar. After the concert she invites the audience to meet her.

Well like the Donald it looks like I’ve dodged a bullet and I’m trying to follow Janie’s advice. I made the decision to finally give up work and retire fully, no part time gigs, just the voluntary Toyhub . Next month I hit the big Six – O and go to Prague.

Is this what death is like

Not that anyone who has actually died , would be able to give me an answer to that question, obviously !

So yoga has been coming back since the pre Christmas hiatus, finally doing Kapo again and getting some control of the dropbacks.

I saw the hospital doctor 10 days ago to discuss the CT scan and lung function test, again said not cancer, but there is something going on and put me down for more bloods and a bronchoscopy, which would be scheduled in the next few months, I actually received a follow up appointment for July, so figured I could forget about it for a while. Suddenly last Wednesday afternoon a call from the hospital, they want to do the bronchoscopy at 9am the next morning, wtf . Nil by mouth from midnight because of the sedation, ok let’s get this done.

8am next morning I’m checked in, dressed in a nifty gown and a lovely French nurse comes to insert the cannula after attaching me to monitors for BP , pulse, oxygen etc, only problem is I’m dehydrated from 12 hours NBM and every vein collapses after she inserts the needle,,I’m fine with needles, I give blood and love watching it fill up the bag. Suddenly I feel really sick and feel myself sliding down the bed and then the lights go out and I’m completely unconscious, is that slipping away what death is like?

At some point, no idea how long, I’m vaguely in the room, there’s a light flashing above the bed and an alarm screeching, I’m surrounded by 10 staff and the crash team, I’ve no idea what they did to get me back on the planet, but I’ve got a pain in the side of my rib cage, the nurse tells me my blood pressure and pulse went through the floor and she hit the “All hell let’s loose button” by the bed , I’m glad she did.

So finally the canula is in and I’m wheeled into Theatre for the Bronchoscopy job, a Doctor called Fred, huge tall guy stands over me and smiling says, “you scared the crap out of a lot of people”.

Well it’s done now, I just hope they find an answer from the all tests to what’s going on and don’t keep me waiting too long for an answer. But the more I think about what happened the more aware I’m becoming of the vulnerability of living home alone, if my lights went out at home like that, who is going to hit the button and come running to my rescue.

Thé Rollercoaster

After getting over the eye surgeries and surviving the 8 weeks of rehab inactivity I finally got back on my mat in early December. I can’t lie , it’s been a slog, it’s felt so much harder to get going again after surgery.

A lack of energy, a real fall off in my general fitness and touching my toes was difficult. Eventually mid January I started to get some feeling of improvement, L said to take it easy, one Sunday she actually stopped me after Primary, she’s never done that before, I was laying prone on my mat considering my options. L said it’s always harder to get going again in the winter when it’s cold and body’s are stiff.

February I’m finally off the ground in Urdva Dhanurasana and doing some intermediate,then I get a call from my GP requesting my attendance to a 5 yearly health check. A surprise , a young, enthusiastic nurse who gets that Ashtanga isn’t just sitting going ommmmmm, she tests everything, BP, BMI, diet, exercise and takes a load of blood, cholesterol hasn’t changed in 30 years. She picks up on my never ending cough and after she’s finished torturing me makes me see a GP about the cough, who sends me for an chest X-ray, 3 days later they call to say they found a 17mm nodule on my right lung on the X-ray and that I need an urgent CT scan for cancer, I only realise how urgent when the radiologist calls the next morning to call me in.

To say it’s been a fraught, sleepless 2 weeks waiting for the results and the potential consequences of surgery, chemo and who knows what else is an understatement, googling nodules hasn’t helped quieten my mind either. Monday there’s a report been added to my nhs record, its full of medical jargon which googling doesn’t help to translate, I’m invited for a telephone consultation to discuss the results, but there are no appointments available for 3 days, I’m going out of my mind, I’m not sleeping with worry

Finally this afternoon they call, the good news is no cancer, but there is some thickening of fibre in the lung and a renal cyst, so I’m not dead yet, as Phil Collins once called his tour, but it sounds like I still have a way to go.

Thanks to those who have been in my corner the last two weeks offering an ear and support, Janie, Vanessa, Michelle and Jayne and Suzanne