But then a young girl in a very stylish vest and bathing suit exited the car and I sighed, “Oh well, another poor little rich kid.”  Charra laughed. I defended my statement, “I mean, look how she is parked.  Like she is the only person in the world.”

Alfonso went to talk to his friend. One of the reasons the beach access was now closed was because of people blocking the owner’s access.  He asked her to move and she did.  Charra and I marveled at how inconsiderate some people were.  “They really just don’t think of anyone else”, I told her, “It is not malicious”.

Then she joined us for breakfast.  Charra went to work. Alfonso and I chatted with his friend, Maria.  She was adorable, actually.  Fair skinned, clear eyes, asking about art and documentary films, talking about travel in Mexico and how special the north, where she came from, was.  We discussed the film festival Alfonso was planning.  Then she ordered breakfast and Alfonso went to cook it. I had given up on Lea, the owner from across the street, and was preparing to go but Maria asked me about how I got to Tulum and we began discussing “hard times”. 

I shared with her only that a difficult time in my life brought me to Tulum and that sometimes, the things that ask the most of us bring us to good places.  I was talking to her as if she could hardly understand.  She is probably a little over 20 years old, from a privileged background and well, look how she parked.  She told me she was studying psychology and I thought she would perhaps know of Pema Chodrun, the Buddhist monk and writer. 

“Have you read ‘When things fall apart’?” I asked her.  She shook her head and I explained, “It is by this Buddhist monk, Pema Chodrun, and she explains how when things seem to be going very wrong in your life, it may be because they need to ‘fall apart’ before they can come together again.”

She looked at me shaking her head that she understood, and I continued, thinking I could advise her or tell her something to help her in her life, perhaps help her park more appropriately.  “It is like if you are doing a sculpture or a painting that you need to re-work and you tear it all apart or mess it all up before you can make it gorgeous again”, I explained.  “But without that first structure it wouldn’t be as deep, as profound”, I said referring to the person and their past experiences. 

She said, “I think I know what you mean.  I think I have hit that place where things fell apart for me.” 

I didn’t want to minimize her traumas but really, I thought, what could she know about things falling apart.  I am sure the crisis was real for her but certainly, she could not have had anything huge in her life.  After all she was only 20 something. 

“Well, things can fall apart many times in our lives.  It creates the tapestry of who we are”, I said, thinking I was oh-so-wise and then I asked, “What happened?”

She looked down at her coffee and told me, “Well, last year my mother and father and brother were kidnapped and never came back”. 

As if brick hit me in the face, I was stunned.  I didn’t know what to say.

“I think that was when things fell apart for me”, she continued.

I thought, “Shit, park however you want sweetheart”, but said, “I am so, so sorry”.  I reached out to touch her and I tried to inhale her perspective.   “I am so sorry”, I repeated, “I cannot even imagine”. That violence hasn’t reached Tulum, thank God, and it always feels so far away.  At least until I met Maria.

 “Welcome to Mexico”, she told me as Alfonso served her breakfast. 

I smiled, thought about it and loaded the groceries in the car.  When I shut the door, I took my right index finger to the lettering, put a line through the “o” in love and wrote an “i” above it.  I stood back and smiled:  “I live yoga”.

That is it. Isn’t it?  Live your yoga.  Bring it off the mat as much as you bring yourself onto the mat.  Notice.  Practice loving kindness to yourself and others.  Breathe.  So the next time you are in traffic (we even have it here in Tulum, Mexico) breathe.  Don’t swear, just breathe and wait.  And if you cannot help but swear, laugh about it afterwards.  Stay off the horn.  Stay on your breath. 

If someone asks you for help: directions, a peso, a moment of your time, a little bit of space.  Stop. Try not to get angry, and answer honestly with loving kindness.  The answer can be no.  Just say it with love. 

Practice not letting the ‘shit’ get you down.  The same way you move through your practice, move through your life.  Remember that every experience is a part of the fabric of your life and will lead to something wonderful eventually.  Believe it fully.  If you need some help, ask for it.  If you are having trouble balancing, you put one foot down perhaps.  Or you move to a wall, right?  Find that one foot in your life.  Or find your wall.  And it doesn’t always have to be the same one.  We live in a world with so many walls.  Perhaps we can make them less rigid, less solid, if we just go over and touch one when we need some help.  There may be someone’s hand on the other side.  Imagine sending that balancing energy through to the other side. Perhaps you both will find balance. 

Practice patience with yourself and others.  The same way you breathe into a tight muscle, patiently waiting for it to open, breathe into a tight part of your emotions on any given day.  Breathe into your relationships and bring patience to their progress and their uniqueness. 

Practice courage.  The courage to be honest and respectful of ourselves and others.  The same courage it takes to jump to the front of your mat or to lift that arm off the floor that so far has supported you, may be the courage you need to ask for that raise or that change you need in your life situation.   And it may be the courage you need to accept the answer or the outcome.  Practice the courage it takes to stop and listen to that musician on the subway when everyone is running by.  Practice the courage it takes to listen to a friend when you know you will miss the last train, you won’t get your 8 hours of sleep, or you may even miss that next yoga class.  Breathe and practice the courage it takes to listen to yourself, openly and with patience.  Spend time alone.  Meditate.

Practice the courage that it takes to be uniquely you when doing so may disrupt an otherwise organized life. 

Live your yoga.  

Travel is a part of my life as well. I travel to know myself better, to stay in touch with people, to enjoy life, to experience life. For me, traveling makes the world a better place. I meet people who make far away places real. The world becomes less one of walls and boundaries and more one of bridges and alliances. I think travel engenders peace in the world. Too, I get to see some really cool places and enjoy very fun times.

Sometimes my love for yoga and desire to travel seem to conflict. Travel shakes things up. I don’t always have all my stuff. I am sleeping on a friends couch or at parties most of the night and waking at 4 am to catch a flight or a bus or a ride. Hard to say if that hour of sleep isn’t better than an hour of weary yoga. Yoga seems to merit a calmer lifestyle. But I have found that yoga and travel actually compliment each other. The two help us know ourselves better as we answer those questions. What is better for you on this particular day? Yoga or another hour of sleep.

So I combine my two loves and they compliment each other nicely. There is some guidance that lets this happen and I will share that with you.  A sort of lay person’s guide to travel and yoga, shortened edited version.

First, make a commitment to “go with the flow”. That means that you try to practice while you travel but if it doesn’t happen, you practice loving kindness. You don’t beat yourself up. You don’t obsess. You enjoy whatever that day has to bring. You breathe deeply and let go of the need to control and perhaps you pop into tree pose while waiting for a friend or you roll your shoulders back and pull your navel towards your spine while sitting in the car. Maybe you move your eyes to the right and left and then up and down while in the ladies room at that fancy restaurant or that not so fancy taco stand. You allow yourself to experience the day and if you missed your formal practice, you incorporate a less formal one into your day as you let it go.

Second, develop a personal practice that is portable and manipulable. That means that you know it or you can carry it with you on a sheet or in a book. And you can pull sections out or add them depending on how much time you have. So you had coffee in bed with your mother or your lover and you only have 30 minutes before you leave. Take out the balances, leave in sun salutations, headstand, hips and abs and 5 minutes for shivasana and be grateful for your mother or your lover with that final “om”.

Third, seek out studios wherever you go. Explore, experiment, find new teachers, new influence and enjoy what makes each studio unique. Invite your travel partners or family to practice with you or revel in the break from both as you find a peaceful place to call your own.

Forth, keep it small. Practice in the space you have, in the time you have. That means between the beds in the Holiday Inn or in the space behind the sofa at your best friends house. It also means on that balcony at your friends villa on the south of France, if you are so lucky.  There is enough space to call your own no matter where you are. Be flexible in your body, in your mind and in your needs so that yoga and travel can be your two best loves.

And as you travel and share your yoga and flexibility with the world, you can be that certain extra call for peace and sanity that changes everything in whatever part of the universe you find yourself.

Oh and I nearly forgot, fifth, travel to a place just to practice. Come to a yoga retreat here with me in Tulum, Mexico.

But there is a ying and a yang to everything, no?  Two sides to every story.  Or like in my yoga practice, one open hip and one more closed.  So, as bad as Amador was, he did somethings right.  For example, one night when I had family visiting and he was still stalking me, he came to my house at 3 a.m. with a not even month old puppy in his arms.  ”Amor, I save this baby for you”, he said with his eyes red from drink and drug and a smile on his face that melted my resolve to turn him away every single time.  Then he put the puppy in my arms saying, “You take him for me today?” and as he opened the door to leave, “I be back tomorrow.  You the best.  I never gonna leave you.”  And then he did, thank God.  He walked out the door and left me with this adorable, blond baby mutt.  I held the dog in my arms and then looked out after him but he had disappeared.  I may have said, “But”, but I don’t think so.  

I went to the fridge (I had a fridge back then) grabbed the milk and poured a glass for me and a bowl for my new friend.  My dog Lakra, most wonderful dog ever, by the way, drifted into the kitchen and looked at me and then the new puppy and then back at me, skeptically.  I poured her some milk as well and sat down on the floor with my two new dogs.  ”What will I do with this?”  I asked myself.  After a moment, I stood up, grabbed the empty cooler from the porch, put a blanket into it and then put the puppy inside.  I called to Lakra, who was more and more curious, and we went back to bed.

I woke the next morning wondering if it had been a dream.  But when I walked into the kitchen and heard a wimper, I knew it had not been.  I looked into the cooler and had to smile.  Lakra came to my side and looked in too.  I don’t think she smiled but she didn’t seem too annoyed.  I patted the sweet dogs head and shook mine.  Again, I asked myself, “what will I do with this?”  Just as I did my cousin came into the kitchen.  ”What ‘cha got there?” she asked as she looked over my shoulder.  ”How adorable!” she shrieked when she saw him.  ”Where did he come from?”  I responded, “Amador”.  ”Oh no.” she said, “when was he here?”  And I told her the drop in/drop dog story.  She laughed and said, “So like that train wreck.  He brings things he saves for you to save.”  And then, because my cousin is from California and should be a therapist, we broke into a litany of codependant themes and how abusive the whole thing was.  Then I said, “shall we go look for a home for him?”  ”Let’s just go to the beach”, my cousin said.  ”And”, she continued enthusiastically, “Lets take the dogs!”

What remained was peace, the sound of the wind and the waves on the shore and deep desire to share that sensation.

“What is it?” I asked the manager at Maya Tulum.

“I am not really sure.  But this is your opportunity to find out.”

“I will let you know, ok?”  I assured her. I got on my pink bike and rode home thinking, “NAAM Yoga, why not?” one minute and then “NAAM Yoga, another fad that I don’t really have time for” the next.

Having just installed internet at my house I happily googled NAAM yoga.

Naam Yoga ^TM is a style of yoga developed by world renowned yogi, mystic and universal kabbalah master, Dr. Joseph Michael Levry (Gurunam) that incorporates the practice of the Divine Word (Naam) with yogic movement, stretching postures, breathing, mudras, and meditation.  It is a spiritual science and art that merges Eastern Yogic practices with the practical esoteric teachings of Universal Kabbalah. The philosophy within Naam Yoga ^TM is aimed at revealing the hidden truths of various spiritual traditions and mystery systems so that humankind may draw from both Eastern and Western practices to ultimately conceive the true nature of the Divine.

Naam Yoga ^TM was first taught at Universal Force Healing Center in New York City but is now being taught all over the world.  Naam (Sanskrit) means “word” or “name”, specifically “the name of God”. The holy scripture of Sikhism, the Guru Granth Sahib, stresses the importance of meditation upon various names of God (also known as mantras) so as to vibrate in unison with Universal Harmony. Naam Yoga ^TM asserts that through the simple practice of working with the word, personal and universal healing can take place.

I don’t know too much about Michael Levry and a when I see the words, “world renowned” and “mystic” in the same sentence I tend to back off. But, I would consider it, try to keep an open mind and see what Wednesday brought in terms of commitments.

Wednesday brought nothing so at 6 p.m. I went to see what NAAM yoga was all about.  I snuck in the back as the participants were already dancing and chanting.  I took a deep breath, not feeling comfortable backing out now that I had entered, grabbed a mat and a blanket and joined them in moving my hands side to side and stepping one foot in front of the other while repeating some words I did not understand.  I hate saying things when I am not too sure what they mean but I smiled in resignation and let myself open to the experience.  “Just an hour an a half”, I told myself as I prayed I was not calling the devil.

I remained skeptical through the class but enjoyed it.  It was fun, if not profound.  And then we entered shavasana, the moment I had been waiting for since it signaled the end.  On my back with my palms facing up, I listened to the chanting on the cd.  A warmth entered my body.  I relaxed as I continued to listen to what gave me a comfort that I believe was bliss.  I felt light enough to fly.  We moved to seated and completed another breathing meditation, this time to the same words that the music had been playing. It was so beautiful I wanted to cry.

I hugged the instructor when we finished and she gave me the mantra on a card as I floated out of the room.  The mantra is called the “Mantra of Light”:

Love before me, Love behind me, Love to my left, Love to my right, Love above me, Love below me, Love in me, Love in me eternally, Love to everyone, Love to the universe.

Peace before me, Peace behind me, Peace to my left, Peace to my right, Peace above me, Peace below me, Peace in me, Peace in me eternally, Peace to everyone, Peace to the universe.

Light before me, Light behind me, Light to my left, Light to my right, Light above me, Light below me, Light in me, Light in me eternally, Light to everyone, Light to the universe.

I chanted the words on my bike home in the dark and then again this morning as I lay in shavasana.  And it gave me the same feeling.  I felt peace and a security that warmed my soul.  So I thought I should share it.  I may not practice NAAM yoga every day, probably not even every month.  But the mantra I may use more than once a day.

The slap of a wave on my leg brings me back from my day dream and I look for my dogs who are playing in the sand in front of me. I know where my dogs walk but other beach dogs, hungry for whatever they can find, often attack the turtles or their eggs. The coastal birds in the same hungry circumstance and other nocturnal animals like raccoons and foxes searching for sustenance can do the same. In the wild there is no discrimination regarding endangered species.

And it is still wild here in Tulum, Mexico, despite the solar panels and windmills and elegant bars and restaurants lining the beach. There is the savage, untamed side of Tulum. Summer is the time to find it. The beach is nearly empty by day and by night, if you walk towards the biosphere, you can witness the elegance and near cruelty of nature as some turtles find their way while others turn back discouraged by noise or light or attacks from other animals. And within the miracle of the turtles journey and birth is a magnificence rivaled only by the natural wildness of the place itself: Tulum, Mexico in summer.

Find your yoga, your bliss, in Tulum, Mexico.

But when I need someone to listen, I go to her and walking on the beach she takes whatever burden, whatever mystery, whatever illusions or questions I have.  She doesn’t give me answers, she lets me figure those out.  Generally, I knew the answer anyway. But against the back drop of her charming white curls, I can hear my inner voice speaking.  It is magic that she allows me to perform.

My worker brought them to me.  ”Conejos” is the Spanish word for rabbit.  I wasn’t listening too clearly or I heard what I wanted to hear when he asked me about them.  I thought he wanted to bring me some chickens, “galenas”.  So when he interrupted my yoga practice one morning with a closed box, I was excited.  Finally, I would have my chickens, fresh eggs every day.  But he opened the box to show me 2 rabbits.  I smiled.  They were cute I had to admit.

“What will we do with rabbits?” I asked him.

He just laughed, as if everyone knew what to do with rabbits.  And the next day he brought two more.  I enrolled for a Spanish tutorial that afternoon. But I still had four rabbits.

Carlos built a make-shift cage in the make shift place he pieced together for himself out back.  Mosquito netting, stray pieces of wood I had been saving for art projects, the odd window frame that had not yet been placed together.  All my someday treasures were put into action to keep the bunnies in line.  My dogs were crazy for them, always crying at Carlos’ door to get in. When the rabbits would escape the dogs would go wild.  They needed more exercize, I told myself.  And the bunnies were fast.  And my dogs are fat-ish, and not so fast.

So we all started living together.  And I started to like it and to love the bunnies.  I would feed them carrots and beets.  I started to put little water dishes everywhere for them so they could drink when they escaped, which was often.  Actually, they broke out every day.  I checked the cage one afternoon.  They would eat through steel practically to get out.  So I let them live outside.

My yard is fenced and the dogs never seemed to catch them.  I liked waking up to bunnies in my yard and Carlos would feed them and clean up after them, marginally.  Their poo is good fertilizer.  They played with the cat and the dogs calmed down around them.  And of course they gave me the odd show of their reproductive skills.  ”There are going to be more rabbits, you know.”  My tenant Linda told me one morning as she held a carrot out to the white bunny with the pink eyes and he trotted up to her to nibble it.  ”Think so?” I asked, never having been too good with reproductive issues or anatomical issues at all.  ”Oh yeah”, she said with confidence.

Then Carlos quit, just like that. One weekend he asked me to feed the rabbits so he could visit his mom.  ”Of course”, I told him.  So on Friday he left and he never returned.  I called him several times looking for their food.  He never answered.  I called Carlos’ sister to see what was happening with him.

“Would he be back?”

“No”, she told me.

“And his rabbits?”  Silence on the line.

I started buying lots of carrots.  I also tried lettuce.  They loved it.  And I did try cabbage, but they never ate it.  It would turn brown and get old there in their dish.  Then I gave them bread. They seemed to like that as well.  But so did the dogs.  I hand fed it to the rabbits. “Try cheerios” one of my yoga clients told me.  I couldn’t find Cheerios but I tried granola and they loved it.  They started to eat my plants as well.  And suddenly, the dogs started to chase them again.  We had these races around the yard that inevitably ended under the house with dogs crying and me shouting and every so often the cat would start to cry as well.  It was becoming too much.   But, they were mine now and I liked them and I adjusted my life to make them comfortable.  I met more people in the vegetable line.  The check-out woman started to notice that I was buying a kilo of carrots every other day.  Four rabbits eat alot.

Then one afternoon I came back from my yoga class to find the dogs exhausted. As I patted my yellow lab and looked next to her, I found the white rabbit.  He was dead and his head had been torn off.  It was a bloody mess just a meter away from her.  It was horrible.  I vomited over by the trash, scolded my dog and wrapped it in a cloth to get it away from her.  Linda and I buried it and lit a candle and some copal for it.  I cried and couldn’t talk to the dogs.

The next day one of my workers found the brown one’s body, “totally eaten” out behind the house.  The other two have disappeared.  I don’t really need to find them.  It seemed something had found my rabbits. “It was inevitable”, a friend told me.  ”You live in the jungle, for God’s sake.  You can’t just have rabbits running free.”

Well they weren’t exactly free.  I had a fence.  And I had four rabbits, “cuatro conejos”. And in case you ever get some, Mexican rabbits don’t like cabbage and they don’t always reproduce exponentially.