Leaving On a Jet Plane

I'm leaving on a jet plane,

Don't know when I'll be back again.

I just kept singing that song, well those two lines (the only ones I know) over and over again--back in July, when I took off for Bali. It was a month-long deal, and I was already missing my husband and dog and home. At least I was taking the unborn fetus with me. 

When Will dropped me off at the airport, everyone was giving him dirty looks like he had beaten me up because I was crying so hard. HARD. It was actually kind of weird. It was such a horrible moment because I have major feelings for the guy. But I had to do what I had to do, 

and yes, it was a good move.

At the retreat center outside of Ubud, Bali.

The first peaceful "yes, you are doing the right thing" feeling came when I heard ole John Denver in a C-store in the airport. Just the song I had been singing all week. For some reason, when things like that happen, I know everything is all right, and I'm walking my path.

The second one came when I saw the scene above. An infinity pool overlooking rice fields that flanked the path that led to our yoga pavilion. And the third came when I met some wonderful people, including my roommate, Samantha from New York who is SO New York. I loved it. She actually never left Bali. She is still there. Although I wish I could talk to her, I'm happy she's being a gypsy.

Sam on her bed. I do not miss my bed, and I don't miss the food.

But I miss Sam, and I miss that room for some reason.

Outdoor shower--pretty awesome.

And so, besides for the ENORMOUS geckos that were mating and reproducing on our wall, this outdoor bathroom was top 7 of my favorite things about this journey. 

Black sand beach.

 No, this thing was a day-in and day-out deal plus homework at night. But we had a day off. A group of us decided to go to some beach somewhere. I had no idea where I was, but I had a fabulous time.

Just in case you wanted to see my feet in the sand. 

Yogis pulling tricks.

I did not get out there and do tricky poses on a pool wall. My pregnant butt was already in mommy mode, taking pictures and being a cheerleader. "Beautiful Jess! Let's see it Ebonie!" 

We got Canada, London, Sydney, New Jersey, California and Mississippi all representing
at this random beach club somewhere in Bali.

Back to the intensive. It was intense. But I signed up for it. We worked hard. We did our best. We praised, we complained, we got confused, we got relieved, we got happy and then we got certified.

Path to the yoga pavilion--silence and meditation each morning.

I had some wonderful yoga classes that will most likely remain top 10 in my life for me. I learned a lot of important things that have already improved my teaching. Still, it was the people who made this experience memorable and wonderful. Wouldn't have been the same without them. 

Ebonie and Kara in Ubud.

Working in our pavilion. 

Ebonie getting attacked by an aggressive monkey.

Monkey transfer. Kara's got him. I was like, "Am I safe down here? Keep it away." 

At that point, I was not used to aggressive monkeys and had been attacked

 and was trying to watch my back.

Little monkey babe.

It was like adult yoga summer camp. A long period of time, spending every waking hour together. Swatting bugs and swapping bug sprays. Enduring through heat, bad food and physical exhaustion. Homesickness and snacks and emotional breakdowns. Friends you make and love and wonder if you'll ever see them again. Crying when you leave them. 

The thing about camp and conditions like these is that your friendships are on fast-forward. It's like friendship turbo mode. It's not that you want it to be like this, but there's a closeness there that naturally happens in these types of circumstances. Far away from home, there are so many emotions and feelings. You've got to lean on someone, and someone's got to lean on you. And immediately I think back to real summer camp at Riverview, where a bunch of pre-puberty girls swayed arm-in-arm, singing "Lean On Me," crying their little eyes out on the last night in front of a bonfire. Tribal victories won, ropes courses conquered, and we were all bawling like we did the first day.

So bittersweetly, we took hold of our passports and went on our gypsy ways (from Bali, not Riverview--I'm back in modern day).

And that's it. That's all I have to say.

Well, except for, if you're ever thinking about something and wondering if it's right, just listen for John Denver or whomever you've been singing that week.

Signs are everywhere. Everywhere a sign. 

Blocking out the scenery, something something my mind.

Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign?

And if you're not singing, you should definitely start.

Worldly,

Liza Jane