India Chronicles by Psalm Isadora

The following are excerpts from my fellow yogi Psalm's most recent journey to India. Her words were so touching that I asked her if I could share them with all of you on my blog. Enjoy!

Also, please check out her website, and those of you who live in the Santa Monica area, check out her classes, workshops, and/or trainings.

Much gratitude and love to you, Psalm.

Namaste,
Leah

jan 20
greetings from mother india! every day is more wonderful than the last here, something inside me deepens as does my love and understanding of yoga. i am still in goa, my students have left (they will be rejoining me at my guru's ashram later this week). i find myself a traveller alone in india again. of course i am not really alone...i have such good local friends here. nothing is too much to ask, they drive me around on the back of the motorcycles (sometimes 3 people on a bike!) and feed me for free. how delicious and free it feels to ride motorcycles in india, like the freedom of childhood. there is of course, all the trash around and pollution, but the beauty of india is in people's hearts. people smile at you, and you will never forget their faces, the genuine smiles burns themselves in your memory. i am teaching yoga to the workers at my friend rohan's restaurant in the mornings. they sleep on mats on the floor and wake up for surya namaskar. we have so much to be grateful for in the states. your eyes are really opened to that here. and yet my friends here are happy and sincere with so little. what you have to give is your sincerity and smile. the culture is so different here, but i am not learning to follow a new culture, i am learning to follow my own heart. that is the greatest gift that ma india, my guru and these people have given me, the courage and strength to follow my own heart.

jan 21

inshallah

i invited a man from delhi to have dinner with me and some friends at rohan's restaurant tomorrow night. we were at the night market, which is like a tiny city filled with booths, almost like something i would have imagined in morocco, except with a little trance mixed in. he said, "inshallah, if it is meant to be". inshallah means as god wills. it is a good phrase to pick up in india, where so little is in your control. i repeated this to my friend ramesh, and he said, "but you are god". i thought about it. if god is living in you and me and nature, then god willing would mean self, others and environment willing. all these forces combine to make our destinies. it is not only what my own self wants but also what the greater Self wants, and how i can find myself in harmony with the greater will. inshallah.

jan 23
i am very excited to come home and share what i am learning! i am in pune now....and for different reasons than i originally thought. i do not find myself being pulled to the osho ashram, instead i feel my heartstrings pulling me to my guru. there are many people here seeking, the searchers. it is a strong energy. but right now, i just want to sit and be with my teacher who i feel knows what i am looking for. this trip has brought a real maturation in myself. this yoga is a living thing inside me and she grows of her own accord, through desire and grace...and it is fed by the friendships that come to me. my time in goa was so magic. i am planning to come back next year...to rent a house and teach donation yoga there to the locals and the travellers. things have come together in an interesting and powerful way.

jan 24
feeling my heart pulled to my guruji's ashram, i will be flying there this friday. i will be studying more pranayam, mantra and bandha with him. also teaching a women's workshop in vizag on the same while i am there. you should see these women...it is such a joy to teach them! it fills me with purpose and shakti coming here and teaching the locals, their love for the yoga is so pure and simple. and they are so receptive to me as a teacher. the first time i came i thought the indians wouldn't want a foreign teacher, but it seems they really appreciate someone coming from so far because of such a great love for the practice. their hearts are so open, it helps my heart to be more open and the teaching comes through with no effort on my part. just this great guru energy on this well worn path of people reaching for something higher...going back, back for thousands of years and even before that. we are very blessed to be a part of it.

jan 25

the question of suffering

yesterday afternoon was very difficult for me. pune is a pretty small city in india compared to mumbai, dehli or calcutta. but every time you get into the city, there is the noise, the traffic and the most extreme poverty. the most extreme poverty. it breaks my heart, but i am here for a reason and if i take it all in i will drown and not get anything done. women come up to me in the dusty streets, covered in dirt with their babies slung to their hips. they do a silent pantomime of holding out their hand to me and then bringing to their mouths to show they need my money to buy food. and their eyes, their eyes are big haunting black discs that convey so much sorrow. are they really so sad? are they really so hungry? i don't know, but coming from america it is a terrible thing to see a mother and child asking for money and food like this and to say no. there are so many of them that even if i emptied my wallet, i wouldn't even begin to make a change. and then i would be left with nothing, and wouldn't be able to do the work i came here to do. it seems to me that people who need help usually need more help than you can comfortably give. so i will work on myself, i will let the change in myself grow until it can't help but bring change for others. this is how i usually think of things, people need help, i want to help, but how do i want to help? how can i use my special talents creatively in a way that will bring me the most happiness and contentment? i have made it a rule for myself not to hand money to people on the street. the first time i came to india, a little boy came begging when i was sitting in a rickshaw stopped in traffic. rickshaws are basically motorcylces with metal shells on top. they are much cheaper than taxi cars, but they also leave you open to the streets. in a real car, your windows would be rolled up and you would have some distance between yourself and the rest of the world. i gave the boy a rupee note, and then 5-6 more boys came running up, climbing on and into the rickshaw, grabbing me. traffic began to move and they were almost getting run over, holding on and running along with the rickshaw. the driver began beating them off with a bat. i sat in the back terrified and sickened, i have learned that things escalate quickly here.

i said no so many times yesterday. to an older woman with a small child who dragged the child through traffic to follow me. to a teenage boy with a stump for a leg. to an old man with a cane. to a young mother with the most beautiful face and a baby on her hip, standing at the side of my rickshaw. i remember all of them, i remember their faces even though i put out my hand and say no. even though i have to pretend i don't see them, looking straight ahead as if they don't exist. even though i yell at them, "amma, no, no", begging for them to stop begging from me. they don't just go away when you say no, they stand and stare or grab at you, until you have to be very clear, very insistent on not giving them anything. you have to do it to cross the street, you have to do it to go anywhere, to do anything. i remember all their faces and i am sorry. sorry that i am not able to help each of them. i came back to my hotel last night to have some tea before bed, and there were a group of dogs begging for food. most of them looked pretty healthy, but one puppy had a lame leg and you could see it's whole skeleton wrapped under it's skin. she was a pathetic sight. one of the tables was throwing naan bread to the dogs, and every time the little one ran for some, the other dogs would snarl and scare her away until she limped off, nursing her leg. so i took her in my lap and caught some of the naan bread and fed it to her from my hand. she gobbled it up with her tiny, sharp teeth, almost swallowing it whole. after awhile she must have gotten full, because she stopped eating the naan and curled her tiny head on my lap. all bones, i could see her spine as she curled herself up, like a seashell on my lap. she tucked her head inside my elbow like a little bird. when she looked up at me, she was so small and pitiful, but also beautiful. she is a little blond dog with big black eyes that look like they are rimmed in kajol, the black indian eyeliner. i sat and held her in my lap, wrapped in my shawl for warmth, trying to give her a little comfort and a resting place. i could feel her little belly breathing against mine, a little bony belly, so fragile. after awhile i had to put her down, i wanted to take her to my room, but i could see the fleas all over her. i put her down and walked away quickly, i looked back and saw her limping behind me, so i walked faster so she could not follow me. i got to my room and started to cry. so much suffering i am confronted with here. human suffering, animal suffering, nature is suffering also. it was difficult to breathe. what to do about all this suffering? you do the work that is in front of you. you do the work that wants to be done. you do the work that has begun itself and just asks for you to go with it's flow. i know this. i know that everything is suffering, but also everything is bliss, i know this. i know that the people and the little puppy have been born and will die, and that i am attached to the idea of time, of when. and how and where. and i believe that we all are involved in choosing our births, our families, our lives circumstances so we can learn as individuals and inform the whole. i know these things, and i know how silly i am, every day there are hungry dogs and people, and yet i still live my life. but put one little dog right in front of me and i am brought to my knees. i am drowning in my feeling of the suffering of the whole world. i am not looking for answers or philosophy. i just know that when i have to turn someone away, i armor my heart and it hurts me. so i cried and that released my heart, and then i fell asleep.
today i will do the work that is in front of me, i will take the little dog to the animal hospital. i will do what i can here and now. and tomorrow i will leave for another city, i will leave the little dog behind. and maybe i will have made a difference, and maybe not. but i will have stayed present to the circumstances and genuine to myself. that is all i can ask, to move lightly with love, and to help because it gives me pleasure, not because i am trying to save the world. to do the work that is in front of me, the work that is asking to be done.

jan 25

someone gave me the name of a vet who came to the hotel to look at the puppy, i have decided to call her lola. of course she does not belong to me and i cannot take responsibility for her, but her belly is full of chicken tonight, and she is sleeping soundly wrapped in a warm shawl in my room. the vet was wonderful, he even does yoga! he helped the puppy and then i helped him with his back pain by prescribing some squats, fierce chair pose and uddiyana bandha. he gave the dog an injection for her leg, and said we are best leaving her to find the balance in nature. he said that her little body is strong and most likely she will find the strength to recover herself. the drive for life is so strong in all of us. his words reminded me that it does not all ride on my shoulders, i am not that important. i surrender the dog to god, grace, nature and her own innate intelligence. earlier today i fed her and when she was full she ambled away to lay on a sunny patch of grass. her little face was so content and serene, the warmth of the sun was comforting her. there are so many variables that it is a great mystery what will heal her. i caused myself a great deal of suffering last night by putting the weight of the world on my shoulders and not surrendering to that mystery. i am grateful for the encounter, it showed me my attachments, my fear, my limitations and my compassion. inshallah. tomorrow i fly to the ashram.

2 February 2008

It is freezing in Hong Kong.


Ok, so, it’s not literally the temperature at which water freezes, but it IS 8 degrees Celsius- apparently the coldest it has been here in several years. The rain and humidity make it feel colder than it is, too. It is cold enough that with every exhale outdoors, I see my breath float out in front of me.


I’ve just returned home from an afternoon at Brunch Club, a cozy café/bistro, with a college friend. It’s a popular spot – particularly on a rainy Saturday – in Soho on Peel Street, which is where I live. It’s just a quick three-block walk up from my flat (I love the convenience of being able to walk everywhere). We waited outside for nearly an hour to sit down, staring hungrily through the French doors at three tables with a combined sixteen people, all of whom were finished with their meals, blissfully unaware of us shivering in the cold. Ironically (or maybe karmically), after scoffing at their selfish social behavior, we ended up sitting at our table for six hours. (*insert sheepish shrug here.) A cozy spot indeed: the walls are lined with reading material, there is free wi-fi, and the wait staff does not rush anyone out. Patrons are invited to sit back and relax, and we did just that…ordering breakfast items, lunch items, milkshakes, and coffee. A total of seven of us came and left our four-person table during our time there. It’s how things flow in Hong Kong...people walk by, drop in, come and go.



My friend was my big bro in our business fraternity at UCLA (yes, I was in a business fraternity; it’s funny, I know), which means he took care of me when I joined, helping me feel comfortable, giving me advice, and sharing his own experiences. I looked up to him. He was the nicest big bro I could have asked for, and being a fellow Aquarius (his birthday is just one day after mine), we’ve always gotten along quite easily. He’s been in London for the past few years and plans on staying there for the foreseeable future. I realized today that I followed in his big-brotherly footsteps when I moved to Hong Kong.


Everyone, everything, every moment, every thought, every breath affects us, at some point, to some degree, whether we recognize it or not. There is an incredible, inconceivable order to the apparent chaos of bits and pieces that comprise our lives. And the Universe/God/Big Mind constantly offers signposts of comfort that everything is unfolding precisely as it should be. Oftentimes we digest these signs as coincidences or serendipity or kismet; I personally think déjà vu is part of the phenomenon as well.


"Synergy." *insert that funny hand movement Topher Grace’s character does in the film “In Good Company” here (PS you ought to watch it if you haven’t yet).


Even if we just take, for instance, Peel Street (where I live, in case you weren’t paying attention above). My cross street is Hollywood Road (I came from the Los Angeles area), around the corner is a store that sells statues of Buddha (including a (necessarily) scaled-down replica of Thailand's Reclining Buddha, my favorite Buddha statue in the world; he sits front and center in the main window so I pass by him every day), one block up there is a Buddhist altar, the studio where I practice is a five minute walk away (I've always wished I had a studio close enough to walk to), and one of my closest friends from college has been living on this same street for three years (unbeknownst to me when I first moved in). I take all these signs as confirmation that I am exactly where I should be.


A few of my friends will remember that in the month before I left California, I said I had a feeling I would end up in Hong Kong. It didn’t make sense to any of us, as I’d never been here before, I’m not Chinese, and I’m not a big city kinda girl (rather, I've always wanted to live on an island, although unbeknownst to me at the time, Hong Kong actually is an island). But my intuition – which I’ve become more strongly connected to through my yoga practice – was telling me that Hong Kong was to be my new home, and it was absolutely on spot.


As time passes, I realize more and more that my present moment is my dreams made manifest. There are countless points of perfect synchronization between my life as it is and what I've always wanted. Everything from living in Asia, on an island (I am an Aquarius – the Water-Bearer – after all, and therefore love being near water) (and you might remember that I think I was a mermaid in a past life) (not to mention that my boyfriend is a diver, who I believe found me in the ocean in that past life), on Peel Street... To teaching yoga abroad (which was an idea that came to me during my very first Teacher Training)... To even the smaller things like telling my friend back home that I had a student last week that looks like her, and that student showing up in my very next class... Or seeing the Manulife building in Causeway Bay for the first time yesterday morning, and meeting someone last night who works in that building.


Synergy.


Thoughts become things, per the law of attraction (you’ve seen or read "The Secret", right?). Whatever you want to call it, the truth is that you create your own life…every piece of it. I believe this is what is meant by destiny, what is reassured by moments of déjà vu, what is signified by coincidences. Know it, own it, have faith in it.


And as Sister says: Manifest, manifest, manifest!


PS I kid you not, I had déjà vu whilst writing this to you.

20 November 2007: Planting Roots

:: planting new roots ::

It’s official: I’m staying in Hong Kong. That is, it’s as official as anything in our always-evolving and ever-ephemeral world can be…

When I left Santa Monica 4 months ago, I wasn’t quite sure what would manifest for me. All I knew was that I felt inexplicably but undeniably called to embark upon a gypsy journey eastward. So I packed up and moved out of my home and bought a one-way ticket to Hong Kong. I’d never even been to Hong Kong before, but I felt in my gut and in my heart that big things were waiting for me here.

Guided by an intuitive whim, fueled fully by faith, and supported by Big Mind, I arrived in this new land with a wide open heart. And my goodness…the beauty that has unfolded…

About a month into my stay here, I was offered a full-time teaching position at Pure Yoga. I happily, gratefully, and excitedly accepted, and I just received my work visa last week (it’s a fairly long application process). I taught my first day of classes today, and it felt fantastic to be back in the studio. If you’re interested, you can check out my bio (though they’ve yet to put up my photograph) and my schedule (which changes every week).

As amazing as everything has been, it hasn’t been without moments of struggle, uncertainty, fear, and loneliness. The longer I’m away, the more I miss what has been my home for my entire life. I’m especially feeling the void this week of Thanksgiving and as we enter into the holiday season; it doesn’t quite feel the same (which, of course, is not a bad thing). I miss my doggie so much that I dream of her nearly every night. And I miss you, for sure for sure.

But I’m really happy to be settling here, psyched to see what I can create. How a place I had never been to – at least in this lifetime – was to be my new home, where I was to plant my roots, I can’t cerebrally explain. Simply (if grandiosely) put, I reckon this is what’s meant by destiny.

So, dear loves, that’s my official word. Thank you for staying in touch and for sending your love and support. It really means a lot to me to stay connected to you.

Fly fearlessly...

Seek sincerely…

Practice patiently…

…and let me know what manifests. I bet it’ll be wicked beautiful.

So much love- Leah.

12 November 2007

Coming back on a ferry late one evening, my friend and I sit on the open-aired upper deck in order to enjoy the cool night air and the sound of ocean waves. Just as we take off, the door to the deck section barges open, and two ladies walk out with a, “Here we are, World! Come and get it!” presence. They look at our side of the boat, and then the other side of the boat, and one of them barks, “So which side wants us?? Huh? Huh? Which side’s gonna be the winner?”

Silence…

…and perhaps a bit of fear ensue.

“Alright, we’ll go over here!!” (Doh! They’re coming on our side!)
“Guess you guys are the lucky ones!” (Doh! They’re taking the seats directly in front of us!)

I give a lazy smile, hoping that I’m exuding a subdued energy that will invite them to keep it quiet and peaceful, but it’s to no avail. They are completely oblivious to the idea of shared space, and pick up a loud and raucous conversation, complete with guffaws and knee slaps, that I’m certain the people inside and downstairs could probably hear as well.

I close my eyes and try to find the peace from within, because Buddha taught not to seek peace from without anyway.

I continue minding my own business, breathing in the fresh ocean air, when the louder woman says to me, “Hey can I put my feet up?” Up? Up where? I wonder as I look down at her feet that have just come out of her slippers and then at the 3 inch corner of space on my chair, in disbelief that she is actually making this rude and rather unhygienic request. I don’t immediately respond because I’m so surprised that someone could actually think this is appropriate, and she adds, “Don’t worry, they’re clean,” and laughs like she is a beautiful princess whose feet I should be grateful to have on my seat.

Being the nonconfrontational-to-a-fault person that I am, I murmur, “Um, okay…?”, hoping that the uncomfortable look on my face will make her realize the absurdity of her request, but she happily and selfishly kicks her feet up.

I swear one of her toenails scrapes my thigh.

I look helplessly at my friend, who is glaring at her. He scoots over loudly, and says, “Come on, move this way,” and I can feel his fire igniting. I really don’t want to make a scene, so I quietly scoot over. I steal a glance at them; they don’t seem to be paying attention, and I hope we’ll make it back to Hong Kong in peace.

Putting his arm protectively around me, my friend loudly says, “That is disgusting!” I shush him, but it’s too late.

“I can HEAR you,” she says, stopping her conversation with her friend, who mirrors the “oh crap” expression I’m sure I’m wearing.

“GOOD!” he retorts.

“Do you have a problem with me?”

“Yes, it’s disgusting that you’ve put your feet up on her chair. That is considered rude in some cultures.”

“Oh really, where?” she challenges.

“Thailand, for example.” (I was thinking the same thing.)

“Well, excuse me, but are you Thai?”

“That’s beside the point.”

“ARE. YOU. THAI?”

“It really doesn’t matter if we’re Thai,” I chime in firmly, albeit somewhat unwillingly.

“Of course it matters. ARE YOU?” (Note: her feet are still defiantly up on the seat.)

“No, but I lived there for a couple years,” he says pointedly.

“Well, it’s not rude if you’re not Thai and anyway, I asked first. She should have said no if it was a problem.”

“It was a rather obliging question, though,” I say.

“You could have said no, and it would have been fine.”

“You’re right, that’s a fair point – “ I start to say…

…but my friend interjects, "No, it’s disgusting, and it’s rude of you to have asked at all. We don’t know where you feet have been." His eyes are unflinching.

“Fine. I’ll move them then. Are you happy?” She loudly and reluctantly sets her feet down, and sarcastically adds, “Enjoy your evening.”

Her friend remains silent with her head down the entire time, clearly embarrassed by feet-lady’s behavior. The fact of the matter is, it WAS a rude and obliging question. However, she is right that I should have said NO, and so I accept this as a lesson to be more forthright in the future. I mean, is avoiding confrontation at the cost of contracting a foot fungus really sensible? I know I’m a yoga teacher, but I meant I want to see you bare your SOUL, not your SOLE. Silly.

Wiggling my toes (don’t worry, they’re clean! I think…) at you- Leah.

29 October 2007: Tidbits

Tidbits: Music. Sport. Film. Book.

Music:
I heart The Black Eyed Peas. I heart The Black Eyed Peas even more in concert. I heart The Black Eyed Peas even more from THE FRONT ROW in concert. !!!!!!

They performed this past Saturday at the Venetian Macao. It’s sort of surreal because this Venetian looks nearly identical to the Venetian in Vegas…fake canals and gaudy grandeur and all. Apparently it’s the second largest building in the entire world (though the person who told me this has a penchant for compulsively white-lying for the sake of entertainment, so don’t quote me on that statistic). It was my first time in Macao, a Vegas-like Chinese territory that’s considered separate from China in the way that Hong Kong is. It’s a one-hour fast ferry ride from Hong Kong, but if you count the transportation to and from the ferry terminals, it can be a good six-hour round trip. Yikes.

The Black Eyed Peas were totally worth it, though. I’ve always liked them, but they are one of those groups that blow your mind when you see them live. Their energy was absolutely explosive. Each of the Peas has that magnetic, undefinable quality that makes you think that they are just about the coolest people on the planet. Fergie is gorgeous, funky, has an amazing, amazing voice, AND did one-handed cartwheels while singing. Every single person on the stage had mad rhythm and spirit and love…as did all of their songs. They just make you want to mooooove! When they performed “Where is the Love”, the entire arena was up on their feet; I’ve posted a couple photographs where all you see are the lights of mobile phones (isn’t it funny how we’ve evolved from holding up lighters in concerts to holding up our PDAs??). It was a really beautiful and powerful moment. I had chills.

And for all my Filipino friends…you would have loved their performance of "Bebot". “Filipino!! Filipino!! Filipino!!” flashed on the big screens throughout the song, and it seemed even the Chinese had love for Filipinos. Awesome. ;)

Sport:

I also attended my first ever Cricket game. It was pretty fun. Cricket is quite a big deal on this side of the world, and this weekend was a big tournament, with teams from South Africa, Bangladesh, India, the UK, etc, and an all-star team with some of the world’s Cricket greats. The rules of the game are reminiscent of baseball, but the terminology is different, with the bat being called the wicket and the pitcher being called the bowler…

…and that’s the extent of my limited knowledge of Cricket. :P

Film:

If you haven’t seen it yet, you must must must watch “City of God”, a Brazilian film about the slums of Rio de Janeiro. It’s a jarring dose of the reality of the world outside the blessed and protected (read: sheltered) life most of us have. It’s particularly powerful because it is based on a true story and most of the actors in the film had never acted before.

Book:

Finally, I highly recommend that you read The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. Especially if you like The Alchemist (and if you haven’t yet read The Alchemist, read it immediately!). The Prophet is a collection of philosophical, poetic essays. In its simplicity you will find potent truths about life and existence. Some of you have been (facetiously) asking me if I’ve yet discovered the meaning of life and/or the secret to the universe…read The Prophet…I promise it will inspire you and enlighten you and bring you closer to whatever it is you are seeking.

From one seeker to another…peace love truth.

23 October 2007

Hello hello hello!

Or should I say Sawadeeka!! as I’ve just returned from Phuket, Thailand. Just uploaded a heap of photos.

You can also cruise new Hong Kong photos.

Peace!

Leah

1 October 2007: back in Hong Kong

Over the past 2 months, I have taken 10 flights, stayed in 7 different flats/hotels, used 6 varieties of currency, had 5 mobile phone numbers, and lived out of 2-3 suitcases. Yes, my luggage grew, eventually summing nearly 50 kg by the time I left Seoul (and PS the luggage limit to fly within Asia is 20 kg). So much for my friend’s overly kind guess that I’d be traveling with nothing but a few bags, a mat, and a zafu. ;) I haven’t bought (too many) unnecessary things…what’s heavy is the organic shampoo, etc my mum brought me back from the States (there’s no Whole Foods or anything with such abundant offerings out here), and the organic brown rice products from my aunt and uncle’s farm in Korea, and the 6 books I’ve been traveling with (even though admittedly, I’ve been reading the same one (Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance) for the past month), and yeah, my mat’s in there too, and ok fine, I did buy a couple pairs of new yoga pants and a couple light cardigans because Hong Kong is too hot for any of the sweaters I brought and a couple sundresses and…

…yeah…I have too much stuff. It’s mind-bottling (“Blades of Glory”, anyone?) to think that I’ve been carrying around luggage that weighs just about as much as I do. “Learn to travel lightly” is going on my list of things to do in life.

For the time being, though, I will be keeping both feet on the ground. I’m back in Hong Kong, and am looking forward to chillin’ out. I feel like I’ve been in the yang/ha-/heat-building/masculine portion of my practice ever since I left Cali (PS I read somewhere that REAL Californians don’t ever say “Cali”…but I’m just about as Californian as they get, and don’t you remember that “I’m going-going, back-back, to Cali-Cali” rap song from the 90s or something?), and now my butt’s finally on the mat, and I’m easing into the yin/-tha/cooling/feminine portion of my practice. *insert big exhale here.

No pressure to sightsee, no rush to try to do as much as possible, no familial obligations. Just me and Hong Kong, continuing to get better acquainted. What a delightful discovery it’s been, to connect so easily and surprisingly with this fantastic place. As I was flying in on Friday afternoon, I looked out the plane window (I always choose window seat…you?), amazed at Hong Kong’s countless islands dotting the waters below. Sometimes the islands looked like shapes and symbols, like clouds do (remember my photo of the paddling Nala in the Cambodian clouds?). I’d never seen anything like it before. It was quite stunning.

It’s the end of the 3-day holiday weekend here, and I spent the entire weekend out on the water. Really, really nice. I’m loving the beach/boat culture here.

I know I didn’t catch you up on my time in Seoul or Tokyo, but I did put up a ton of photos, most with descriptive captions, which I think will offer an enjoyable visual story. Suffice it to say that I feel very blessed to have been able to spend time with my family and to explore new parts of the world.

I probably won’t be blogging very frequently as I expect life to continue tempering from here on out, but know that I am happy, healthy, and safe. Always available via email and good vibrations…often thinking of you at home as I look up at our shared sky. Peace peace love love....Leah.