The white heron and the white bull - Goa

Life is a school we attend throughout our physical time on Earth. 

From what I have learned, we are here in this physical form by choice. And although it's often hard to believe, considering all the trials and heartaches we endure, the question arises... 'Seriously? I chose this?' Yet, life is a school, and the faster we learn its lessons - especially the art of letting go of pain and heartache, the better our journey becomes. It's challenging, no doubt, but we have a choice: to rise and grow or to sink under the weight of it all.

Once more, I escaped the London winter blues last February and travelled to India to join Sis Hala for some sun and fun. Our yoga teacher, Joe, could not make it over this time, and the search for a replacement led us to Raj, a serene man whose daily practice unfolded in a large tent draped with see-through orange and green netting. One morning, as I prepared for our session, my eyes drifted to a lush green field ahead where something magical caught my attention.

(and noticed a white heron elegantly posing on the neck of a white bull. The site resembled a surreal painting enlivened with the melody of the birds and the gentle sound of the leaves swaying swiftly to the breeze. It was as though the two were deep in conversation, not by any sound but by flowing energies.) 

There, under the open sky, stood a majestic white bull and perched gracefully on its neck was a white heron. The scene before me seemed like something from a dream, almost too surreal to be real. The melody of the birds filled the air, and the breeze gently stirred the leaves. The two animals stood still, as if locked in a conversation, not through words or sounds but through an invisible exchange of energy, a silent communication. 

As I moved through the yoga poses, I couldn't take my eyes off them. The bull, with its strong, grounding presence, barely moved the entire session and the heron remained poised, a figure of grace and balance. The questions that surfaced in my mind were endless. Was this a form of companionshipt? Could two such different creatures form a bond? What could they be sharing in their stillness? Weather gossip, perhaps, or something far deeper - an understanding of the world that transcends words? The only thing that made sense was the profound peace they embodied. That moment, witnessing the bull and the heron together, felt like an invitation to recognise the quiet beauty in simply being present. No noise, no distractions, just existing side by side, as if teaching me that sometimes, connection doesn't need words at all. It made me reflect - aren't we too, nature's creatures, seeking that same peace in our connections, whether with others or within ourselves?

On other days, the heron would stand beside the bull, sometimes on a rock, facing each other. They would remain like that for hours, the heron flying off briefly only to return to its silent companion. Their relationship fascinated me. The bull, a symbol of strength and stability, seemed content to share its space with the heron, a creature of lightness and flight. Together, they created a balance that I found hard to look away from, so much so that I often struggled to focus on my downward dog. 

Now, back in London, as I sit wrapped in a soft blanket, listening to the rain tap agains the glass, I can't help but long for that warmth again - not just the heat of the Indian sun but the warmth of connection, of being held against another body. The longing for the embrace of a man flickers in my mind, but it comes with too much baggage, so I let the thought drift away, focusing instead on the sunshine. 

It's funny how moments like that, of stillness, of simplicity, remain with you long after they pass. They teach us that peace isn't something we have to chase. Sometimes, it's found in simply existing alongside another without needing anything more. The bull and the heron showe me that. I wrote this blog last year and never posted it. Writer's block, like a travel ban, lifted from my mind today, and I feel free to share once again. 

Writing down your thoughts and feelings is therapeutic. I recommend it to everyone I meet. Stay as positive as you can, even when life feels heavy. This, too, shall pass. 

Holiday Blues, sometimes orange, other times a rainbow!

Finally, I have surpassed my writing block! You know, it comes and goes. Let's see.
Gosh. It has been too long since I was on here. But I have gathered enough experiences to be ready to share again. 

Here is a mild start...

So, after a series of miss-haps, in the name of a TIA or a mini-stroke and ear blockage, which resulted in me being carried by ambulance to the A&E for the second time, life presented a new meaning to me. A trip I was planning in November 2019 was delayed due to health issues, and the decision to stay home in London was inevitable. 

You know, when you are truly grateful as I am every second of the day, you manage to figure shit out! As John Lennon finely quoted: "Everything will be okay in the end; if it's not okay, it's not the end." And goodness, it was only months ago that I celebrated my 60th birthday at my favourite London spot, Fabric Club, at a rave. I couldn't wait to announce my new, delicious, ripened age to everyone by singing, "I'm sixty, and I know it!" If I can help it, I ain't going nowhere on a galaxy visit so soon. Haha

After numerous blood tests, from one doctor or specialist's visit to another, seeing a healer or two, an osteo craniosacral and ending up in an alternative clinic, the moral of the story I figured out was... my issue was not about Ecstasy or weed, I do know my limits, but it was bloody SUGAR! Can you believe it? It was sugar and any food that turns into sugar in the blood, as in white flour, fried food, sugar, of course, and alcohol, which I only drank socially and not often. I am usually the girl with a bottle or glass of water.

I saw a naturopath who presented me with a healthy diet and supplements, listened to the advice of my new friend, the craniosacral therapist, and took a five-week holiday to Goa, India, at the end of January. My sis Hala joined me at our favourite winter spot, and we spent four weeks together in harmony, gratitude and joy. I shut the world outside and all its noise off like a switch and concentrated on my well-being and observing beauty in the simplicity of life. It is as close a state as one can get to Bliss. 

Joined by friends, men and women from all corners of the world, our usual yearly gathering with friends we had made since we began going brought all the magic. This was our fifth year to go back and boost our physical and mental system in the unquestionable flow of life that happens in Goa. Let go and let it be. Fabulous. 

The five weeks are over, and I am back in London. I must add rain and grey London, which resembles the holiday blues. So, to cheer myself up, after my boxing session with the trainer, I drove to Richmond Park for a rendezvous in the restaurant set amongst the lush greenery with a slightly older, charming Englishman. Oh! And good-looking, too! We hit it off immediately and started chatting like two old friends in the busy restaurant. Our afternoon conversation was sweetened by some sophisticated flirting! Mmmm... Grey skies and the pouring rain soon turned into noticing the spring pink flowers planted under the sash window where our table sat. The day sure brightened up, or was it the date? 

Listen, if you don't brighten your day, no one else will do it for you. Stop listening to the news and reading about Corona and this and that. Politics sucks! Find something that makes you happy. Watch a comedy. Read an uplifting article. Make love. Make peace. And always be kind. 

I am back! And there will be loads of leanings and fabulous stories to share... soon.