I loved being in Rishikesh.  For a month I woke up early in the morning went to a meditation group, followed up with a yoga class and had breakfast. In the afternoon I would meet with an ayurvedic doctor, take an additional yoga class or two, wander into Laksman Jula, rest and have lunch.  The evening was filled with conversation, song, quiet reading, chanting, aarti or a lecture, dinner and sleep.

Almost none of these activities had a place in my New York life.   Even when I took a yoga class, I usually rushed in and scurried back to the pounding beat of my  life.  Conversations, which I love, more often than not ,were rife with complaints (mine or others).  But in Rishikesh, the rhythm was gentle and healing.  Every aspect gave me space to unwind all the tension and chaos in my being.  I arrived early to classes and allowed myself to be absorbed into each posture.  Conversations were engaging, curious and joyful (even those they existed only in my own head).

And then one morning, I woke up and was met by a familiar feeling: resistance.  The feeling stayed with me all morning, lifting only as I walked back from class with the sun shining on my face.  A few more days passed before the feeling resurfaced.  This time it was evening, the sun had set and I was reading in my room when my mood shifted.  I went to bed early and woke with a sense of frustration and sadness.  I missed meditation that morning and carried the cloud with me well into the day.

Unencumbered by the distractions and busyness of my regular life, I caught on to the shift and decided to pay closer attention to my mood and what was happening to my cheery disposition.  It didn’t take long to figure out the culprit.  A week of noticing, and I quickly realized that I was reacting to the change in weather.  Now on the surface, that might seem both obvious and trivial, however it was neither.  I knew I didn’t like cold weather, but I had not realized how much of an impact it had on my temperament, my behavior, my outlook and my energy.

Think about it, when we are unhappy with our surroundings or circumstances we may recognize our discontent, but think no one else notices.  Our frustration comes out in different ways, perhaps we are short with those we love, or overly critical of those around us, or simply carrying a negative mood.  We are so busy with all we have to do, we don’t take the time to notice what is happening, never mind think of an alternative.

In the flow of Rishikesh, I was able to take notice and determine, that while I thought I would be there longer, it was time for a change.  Noticing didn’t make it easy.  I didn’t know where to go, I hadn’t made alternative plans, but I knew this adventure would not be all it could be if I stayed on the same path.  I began to research and ask questions.  I thought about what I required and who might be able to help.  I considered my constraints and acknowledged my fears – and then I moved into action.  I found my next destination – a little fishing village in Kerala, India.

When I called to make arrangements, I was informed there were no vacancies.  Undeterred, I continued to call each afternoon, only to be told the same thing.  I don’t know if was the tenacity of my New York upbringing, the stubbornness of my Sicilian side, the intuition of my feminine being or simply Karma – but after a week and a half the young man on the other end of the phone informed me I was welcome to come for a stay.  I was elated and began making plans.

When the plane landed in sunny Kochin, I still had hours of travel ahead of me, yet I felt buoyant, joyful and calm.  Over the next five months of my stay, I learn again and again how easy it was to navigate to a place that allowed me to thrive if I simply took the time to notice.

If you have taken one of my classes or workshops you have probably heard this story, and if you are someone who hates making decisions you may find some meaning in it.

One evening, after I had been in India for a few weeks, a new friend, Anita was sharing the events of her day, including that earlier in the day she had encountered an elderly Italian man.  Later, walking along a passageway toward my room something caught my eye.  Nearing the door, I realized someone had written a name in black magic marker on the door frame. It was strange enough to see writing on the wall, but when I saw the name that was written, I was floored.   I was standing with my mouth agape when a gray haired gentleman exited the room and smiled.  He turned to lock his door, and with his back to me said, “Ciao, signorina, sei Italiana? /Hello miss, are you Italian?”  As he shifted his attention from the door to me, I quickly glanced up and I nodded my head.  He smiled, offered me his arm and asked me to walk with him to dinner.  I took his arm and we slowly shuffled forward.  I asked him where he was from and in traditional form, he revealed what I already knew, bit by bit. Italy…Puglia…Bari, and quite matter of fact, Palo del Colle.

Pascuale Centrone’s Business Card

Palo del Colle is a town of approximately 20,000 people in southern Italy.  And while I have never been to there, both of my maternal great grandparents called Palo home.

Oronzo and Benedetta Savino

and to make matters more interesting, the name the man had written on his door frame is my maternal grandparents last name, Centrone.

Sylvester and Nicoletta (Savino) Centrone

While I was quite stunned, somehow this coincidence did not seem to phase my dinner companion in the least! He told me about Palo and stories about my grandfather, uncles and cousins.  And while only had a few hours together before his left Rishikesh, I felt a profound sense of peace and satisfaction at the calm, crazy synchronicity of such a random possibility.  I had traveled from New York to this place in India, meeting a distant relative from Italy who now lived in South America!

It isn’t always as clear as black magic marker on a wall, however, wherever we find ourselves, opening our eyes we can see the signs that all paths hold a few secrets, some answers and unexpected surprises to help us along the way.

In the words of Paolo Coelho from The Alchemist,

…when you want something, all the universe conspires

in helping you to achieve it.

That evening, I walked into town after dinner, found a phone in the back of a shop and called my maternal grandmother, Nicoletta (Savino) Centrone.  When she answered the phone, she was quite surprised to hear from me.  I was beaming when I said, “Gram, sit down, I have a story for you!”.

Check back next week for the next India Journal and don’t forget to mark your calendar for the last RevUp 2009 on Tuesday, December 1st at the Darlington House in Washington, DC from 6:00 pm – 8:30 pm.

We’ll celebrate successes of 2009 and get energized for 2010.  Come by for a cup of cheer and a dose of inspiration!

Rev Up 2009

Join the Compass Point community of

DC creatives, entrepreneurs, and professionals

for an evening of

Celebration

We will toast the success of

and

RevUp for 2010

on

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

6:00 pm – 8:30 pm

at

Darlington House

1610 20th Street, NW (upstairs)
North of Dupont Circle Metro

…and if you are looking for unique holiday gifts,
swing by for a shopping preview at 4:00 pm!

Dr. Zimbardo is well-known for the infamous Stamford Prison experiment in the early 70s, which investigated the power that social situations have in influencing behavior of ordinary people.   Of the experiment, Zimbardo says:

…even though the student-prisoners knew they would be part of this experiment for only a limited time, they didn’t behave that way.  They behaved as if they were trapped.  Although the prisoners cold have escaped their dismal daily grind by sharing with other prisoners their past identities and future hopes for when the experiment would be over, they rarely did so. …these mock prisoners had quickly imprisoned themselves in despair by focusing on very recent negative experiences of only days in a mock prison.

Dr. Boyd joined Dr. Zimbardo in ‘94 and together the duo has expanded our understanding of time perspective and its power to influence how we navigate our lives.  In a part of the book that discusses Making Time Matter, they write:

Like success and happiness, our purpose exists in the present, and we constantly strive toward the future to maintain it.  What it is for which we strive is up to each of us.  The important thing is that we strive for something.  Societal expectations matter little; personal expectations matter tremendously.

Discussing career and business fluctuations with clients, I am abundantly aware of how easily we become imprisoned by despair by focusing on recent negative circumstances.  Our past identities and future aspirations fade, giving center stage to a diminished sense of self.  In Zimbardo’s experiment participants quickly assumed the role of ‘prisoners’ regardless of the power, strength and potential they lived only days before.  Today with layoffs, business failure, economic pressures and the like, it isn’t surprising that many people are temporarily blinded.

Dr. Zimbardo’s experiment shines a light on the key to breaking through the identity crisis – social connection.  Sharing our past experiences, successes, dreams, aspirations and passions not only give others a more accurate context to receive us, but it also serves to shake us awake from our temporary slumber.

Zimbardo and Boyd offer:

You can choose how you reconstruct the past, interpret the present and construe the future. Give yourself permission to enjoy the present and to pursue happiness in the future.

Too often we choose to relive the most painful moments of our lives and to give them meanings that leave us feeling hopeless, trapped, and desperate.  The beauty of Time Perspective is  that it affords us a new lens from which to reclaim the past, remember ourselves and begin walking toward our futures vibrant, vital and valued!

To shake yourself free when you are feeling overwhelmed by your circumstances or lose a sense of your strength, purposefully put yourself in situations where the vibrant and vital person you value is allowed to shine.  Share stories about the past that fill you with pride.  Indulge in flights of fancy for the future, see yourself soaring to new heights – dream BIG – and share that too! You never know, the person your share with might just need a pick me up too!

Whatever you do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius and power and magic in it. ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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My driver was not there, however I quickly made change, found a phone and called him, only to find he thought my flight arrived the next morning. He was picking up other passengers but could get to me within the hour.  After a harrowing trip through the streets of Delhi we arrived at the hotel.

I spent the day touring around and quickly realized, amazing as it was, I was ready to move on. I arranged a ride to Rishikesh for the following morning.

During the long ride the driver regaled me with history, lore and customs of the area.  He was delicately formal in our interaction and abundantly generous with his knowledge.  I was so excited as we neared Parmarth Niketan (although my enthusiasm was briefly interrupted by a 45 minute wait for cows to cross the road).

Parmarth is located on Ganges River in the Himalayas and for many it is the chosen destination for a holy pilgrimage.  Each day people arrive in groups to worship, make offerings, cleanse in the Ganges and take part in the evening aarti ceremonies.

On my first night in Rishikesh I sat on the ghat (steps leading down to the river) and watched from afar.  The joyful, undulating crowd singing, praying, making offerings of flowers and incense to the Mother Ganga.  It was amazing!  I was swept up into the crowd and soon found myself on the water’s edge.  A brass plate with a flame was being passed around, arms stretched out to touch the plate and motion the heat from the flame to their face three times.

At one point a group of pilgrims excitedly offered me the plate – they wanted to share this experience with me.  They made a gesture to me that seemed to tell me to go toward the River and I thought they were telling me to place the plate in the water (as I had seen in pictures) – the commotion around me as I bent down made it clear this was not the case!  A woman took my arm, lifted me up and swept her hand from the plate toward my forehead.  The heat washed over me and I opened my eyes to exultation. In the darkness, with the river rushing past people from infancy to old age were swaying, smiling, dancing, grabbing, pushing, hugging, chanting – and pulling me to their prayer.  For many this was a pilgrimage they had waited a lifetime to make and I was so grateful for their embrace.

I expected India to be a practical, rather than religious experience – yet from my first night in Rishikesh I found it’s chaos and frenzy the perfect place to engage in the most spiritual of practices – listening to myself.

As the crowd dispersed I found myself moving closer to the water.  It was deep into the night, darkness surrounded the ghat and the energy of the Ganga roared loudly.  As I stared out into the rushing water I learned the first lesson India offered me - All of life is constant motion; both the good and bad will flow regardless of our efforts to cling to the good times or hurry the bad.

This news made me smile.  I walked back to my room and fell asleep to chanting beneath my window.

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While uncomfortable, the conversations that ensued were the deepest, most real and honest exchanges I have ever had in my life. Nothing was left unsaid, as I sought to clarify for myself and others why I was going.  I was stepping outside of my life to get quiet enough to hear myself; to take away the comfort and distraction that allowed me to avoid listening; to become a student of myself; to bring ‘me’ into my life.  To learn who I wanted to become and to start building her.

The more I talked about it, the more things started to fall into place.  I found cohorts in the most unlikely of places.  A random encounter with a bank employee garnered an offer for a home cooked meal in Delhi, an invitation to visit Pakistan from a kind and trusted company driver and Rupees left over from a trip of her own from a hairdresser.  I was greeted with the kindness of strangers well before I ever touched down in India.

Saying goodbye at the airport was unlike any other farewell I had experienced.  My mother’s eyes held tears and a look of hope that perhaps I would laughingly announce I was joking or had changed my mind.  I hugged her close and told her I had to start with my own joy if I was going to bring her any happiness at all.

Knowing I was hurting the people I loved was profoundly difficult.  After a stopover in Germany, I stood in line to board the plane, surrounded by cheerful Indian families and the swirling sounds of Hindi, I remember feeling overwhelmed and taken with fear.  What was I thinking?!

The reality of my chosen route was quickly closing in around me.  It took all the courage and faith I had within me to remember the strength of my conviction only hours before.  I settled in for the long flight unable to concentrate on a book or even the colorful Bollywood films offered to while away the hours.

I paced the aisles pondering my decision, confronting my fear and questioning my sanity until a cool breeze of reality calmed me – discomfort had arrived.  I settled into my seat, fastened my belt, positioned my blanket and let go of any idea of knowing what lay before me.

As news spread I found myself at family functions receiving uncomfortable glances. An aunt leaned close to my father and in a hushed voice asked, “Is she really going?” A cousin cornered my sister to inquire, “What is this really about?” Hardly anyone approached me directly, except my mother’s friend Ellen who dramatically announced, “You are killing your mother!”

I engaged in long conversations with family and friends, giving them time to ask questions and grow accustomed to my thinking, if not comfortable with my decision. In fact, a question my mother offered remains with me all these years later. “What if this isn’t the right road? What if it is a mistake?” My response to her has turned into a mantra of sorts, it is quite simply this - I don’t believe in wrong roads. There are no wrong roads, only the road you are on and what you are doing on it. Taking a step in a new direction, exploring an unknown path is a choice. The fact that it is a difficult choice makes the adventure even sweeter.

There was something powerful about recognizing that the life I was living, while comfortable, was not a true reflection of who I was or wanted to be in my life…in the world. My adventure was not about escaping or finding myself, rather the point was to become a student of myself. I wanted to strip away the societal or familial conditioning that had shaped my ideas about success and life.

By looking beneath the surface, peeling back the layers I started to become me in my life. And in the end, most of my family and friends found joy following my adventure. It was challenging for everyone in a different way – but we all survived – even my mother! And I would like to think that my adventure gave some people around me an opportunity to explore their own lives through a new lens.

If you liked this post you might enjoy Becoming Yourself.

Because of our routines we forget that life is an ongoing adventure. ~Maya Angelou

In the first installment of India Journal, Where No One Knows Your Name, I mentioned the roles we play in life.  By roles, I refer to more than the traditional – daughter, mother, father, executive, significant other.  In each of our roles, there is a thread – a pattern of behavior we have honed over years.  These behaviors may be comfortable, but often have little bearing on the person we are presently, rather they are a legacy from other stages of our lives.

When I decided to take my sabbatical to India I was confronting my legacy roles.  While my life looked great from the outside, I felt less than fulfilled. Without a clear new direction, I continue on my same path.

Then one day as I arrived in LA for a meeting my Blackberry went into overdrive, screaming urgent messages.  I hung up a frantic call and was furiously scanning incoming messages when my driver, calm as can be, turned around and said, “Miss, I don’t mean to overstep, but whatever is going on really isn’t worth it.”

In a different phase in my life, being called upon in time of crisis might have made me feel important (even if frustrated), but in this  moment it was clear my driver was right.  On the ride to the hotel, I found my resolve.  Something had to change.  The time had come.  I was ready.

After the meeting, I went to stay with friends in Seattle to figure out my next step.  During long meandering conversations they counseled me to take a year off.  I stared at them incredulously.  Who took a year off?  And if I did, who would let me back in the game?  But the idea took root – could it really be that simple?  How would it work?  I quickly recognized I needed to be uncomfortable, to be away from friends and family, to be challenged.  And while no one will admit to suggesting it, India emerged as a clear winner.

On the flight back to NY, I wrote out a practical and comprehensive To Do list including: how to pay bills, what immunizations were needed, what to pack, plan visits to doctor and financial planner.  I never looked at the list again after that day.  While unpacking from a recent move, I found it tucked into a book.  I was tickled when I  turned the To Do list over and found the another list on the other side detailing the attributes of a successful sabbatical.

• Quiet, peaceful, reflective
• Away from NY
• Away from friends and family
• Removes me from comfort zone, status quo, inertia
• Framework to challenge toxic lifestyle and investigate lifestyle changes
• Time and space to reflect on roadblocks
• Hear my voice
• Get healthy and strong
• Clear my head, find out what really matters in my heart, decide new path for life long learning and exploration

When I wrote this list, I had no idea where my new resolve would take me. The decision to go to India was only the first step, but in some ways, it was the highest hurdle.  In making it, I stepped outside of my comfort zone and invited those around me to see my life (and their own) through new lens.  The next months were an incredible journey.

Looking back on it now, I remember the momentum and energy of the time.  I don’t know how I was so confident.  And while I am still amazed that I was able to use my time in India to take a profound look at my life, I know this list was the foundation for my success.

Check back next week for more India Journal!