letters to an unfinished, unsatisfying love

A written piece of mine published in Tales of the Forest, an Irish online literary magazine ūüôā

Tales From The Forest


Letters to an unfinished, unsatisfying love

I still spend so much of my time thinking of how we could be together, imagining how our lives could meld into each other. I imagine coming home to you, to lie in bed beside you each night, and how we would get to know each other. I imagine bringing you across the ocean to my homeland, driving you around to see the still lakes and green pines, to sweat in the summer heat and play board games while drinking wine with my family. I imagine having you all to myself, all of your affection, and your attention.

I think about the beginnings of our own family and what our child would look like. A baby in a bear coat, tucked into a pram, as we take her on chilly walks through the park, near the wild and unpredictable sea. I think she…

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update on practice

What is yoga? The ever-elusive question that themes many of my conversations¬†lately. Yoga is a tool to discover internal strength. A strength that comes through recognizing our vulnerability, our limitations, our humility. And okay, sometimes having those moments where we experience the feeling of a posture¬†that we never thought we could do – all thanks to practice, patience and perseverance. The real wonderment here, I believe, comes from understanding the experience of the pose, rather than what we think we look like.¬† Continue reading “update on practice”

a new studio

Sometimes we need to challenge ourselves in new ways. In fact, I believe we need to constantly be doing this. Even after moving to a new country, and living in three different apartments in the span of a few months (I was house and dog sitting in between) and getting worn out from all the changes, I still felt a little stagnant once things just began to get settled.

Some might call this restlessness, except I have experienced restlessness and there was a different quality to my motions of life this time. Continue reading “a new studio”

art in motion

I am not going to try to tell you what yoga is or what it should be. It has come to be understood in many different ways ‚Äď both by non-practitioners and practitioners ‚Äď and has come to have many different expressions, endless even, whether from the variety of lineages or the spread of them into different contexts, places, times and adaptions outside of their place of origin.

I can only speak from my own practice, from my own experience, from my opinions and insights, and from what my teachers teach me. Continue reading “art in motion”

am I a gentrifier?

I somehow always seem to end up in the best places. In the need to have accommodation booked in advance to apply for my visa to Portugal, I booked a short term rental on Airbnb, with plans to take a month to search for a location suitable to myself. I arrived in Martim Moniz, a small area named after the famous noble knight of Portugal, and immediately saw the contrast between a large renovated square with fountains and lounge chairs and somewhat pricey restaurants¬†to the¬†many ethnic wholesale shops and multiple ethnic-owned convenience shops/mini-markets/”Bangladesheries” dotted¬†amongst the residences.

I soon learned from talking to anyone in Portugal that this area – the neighbouring bairro called Intendente more particularly was once a main hub for drug dealing and prostitution and despite recent municipal and local development interventions to requalify¬†the urban space, many Lisboners still hold on to its reputation as an unsafe area. Continue reading “am I a gentrifier?”

to come home

to come home is to arrive again in the place that we started from,
the place that we have always known, have always felt, to be true.
the streets we walk today may be more lawless, the signs non-existent,
but our navigation steadily, and always, brings us back to centre.

to remember where we come from is not to picture a country,
or a landscape, or a house. All these are fleeting,
as the wanderer understands with a longing heart,
and how loneliness does not correlate with the distance of memories.

because home is where the heart is, as the old saying goes,
for the only place that is truly familiar,
is the body, mind and spirit that temple our sweet soul,
our essence that, at its own heart, is free and never lonely,

for it is wild, yet never lost. it welcomes the world to its front door,
in harmonious dance, a true traveler,
only experiencing the loneliness of separation and differentiation,
when we ourselves wander away from it, forgetting who we are,
running away from home.

learning how to receive

I’ve never met as hospitable people as the Turkish. I’ve been here for a week now and have yet to stay in a hostel. I’ve been provided meals, more than luxourish assistance figuring out transport, time and friendship. Even the shop man wouldn’t let me pay for an electrical adapter after he saw that I so stupidly burnt mine to a crisp. This kindness is so unique to the Turkish because they act this way out of genuine joy, rather than feelings of obligation.

Continue reading “learning how to receive”