A follow up to Once Upon a Time in India (kind of). This post mentions assault. I don’t go into detail, but if that might negatively affect you please skip this post.
During grad school, a small group of 12-13 students (myself included) spent six weeks in Auroville, a bioregion in Southern India. We studied sustainability and worked with local organizations.
When I left India in early 2009, I felt that the place had gotten under my skin. In the Frank Sinatra way, not in the “I’m so irritated” way. I’d never been outside of the West and until recently it was my only time in Asia. It was one of the best experiences - I felt alive and inspired.
On the plane back to Paris, we brainstormed ways to share the experience with the rest of the university community. The idea of a fundraiser came up. I took it and ran with it, leading an effort to put together an event showcasing some of our work and lessons learned, while also raising funds for two organizations we’d worked with and had some immediate needs.
It might seem silly but organizing that small event has been a highlight in my life so far. It was the combination of so many things I love and enjoy: bringing people together, raising money for organizations I cared about, celebrating, leading and working with some of my favorite people to bring the occasion to life.
In the end, the event went well. We surpassed our fundraising goal, the night was well attended including the presence of and a few words from the university president, and, we had fun.
I felt like I was in total flow in my life at that point. I had found my footing living abroad alone. I’d just had amazing adventures in India, as well as Morocco. New neural pathways were taking shape from all I was learning in grad school. I felt capable and intelligent - both of which were new to me as far as my perception of myself. More than anything - I felt I was on a path. I couldn’t see the path clearly, necessarily, but I sensed I was heading in a new direction and that it was right.
A couple of days after the fundraising event, I was attacked walking home alone at night.
And then, somehow I lost track of what was already an elusive and ambiguous path. Looking back I think I somehow internalized what happened as the universe “putting me in my place.” A warning to stay small, hidden, and vigilant. Maybe a reminder that I wasn’t worthy or deserving of certain things.
Looking back, the rest of that year I kind of floated. Granted I floated through an amazing life - living in Paris, spending a summer in the Congo, time with friends. I kept putting one foot in front of the other, and I lived - but I don’t know how present I was sometimes.
I also started doing a lot of hermitting. I moved to a new apartment in a quieter neighborhood and it became my safe space. I spent a lot of time alone in those 15 square meters.
Fourteen years later, I can see it a little more clearly. I see that I’d been hurt. I also see how strong I was. I see how compassionate and caring my friend was - who came and sat with me that night after I was attacked. In my memory she sat with me all night, comforting me and somewhat standing guard. I think about that, and appreciate her so much, often.
A few years after moving back to the U.S. from Paris, I was in therapy for the first time. Not specifically related to the above. I think I had decided to go with the general idea of gaining more emotional intelligence.
Healing wasn’t the buzzword then that it is now, but of course somewhere inside I knew that’s what I was looking for too. Not necessarily healing from one specific event. Healing from this thing we’re all going through - this experience of being human and all of the beauty and the pain that entails.
Anyway, at one point during a session, I remember my therapist saying to me “we’ll make a warrior out of you yet.” I think about that a lot lately too.
I was recently in India again, doing an intensive yoga training course. I planned the trip somewhat on a whim - although it was the kind of whim that I was able to take easily because it was something I’d been thinking about for years.
Other than being able to experience India again (this time Goa instead of Tamil Nadu) and having an immersive yoga experience, I didn’t have too many expectations going into the journey.
I didn’t think about how this trip might help me get back on that elusive path I felt so surely I was on in 2009. Or maybe - a new path that only feels similar because it seems more like me.
I didn’t think about how it might help soothe and even heal some old wounds. I didn’t think about how it might help me loosen a grip I didn’t even know I was still holding.
I didn’t think about how maybe being back in this beautiful place might help close a circle, or a cycle, that needed to end so something else could open up.
During yoga training I got to do warrior poses everyday, sometimes multiple times. And I loved it.
I like to think I’ve been tending to my inner warrior as well. I don’t know.
What I know for now is that I do recognize and honor the quiet warrior I was at 27. And maybe that’s a gift, having the time and space to see ourselves clearly - if only in the past.
Thank you for sharing what was undoubtedly a difficult topic to share. By sharing, you help us as readers understand you more. You also give others, who may have had a difficult experience, a chance to look at their experience through different eyes. You are definitely a warrior. You inspire me and your words touched my heart. Hugs to you...💕
❤️