BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP. Between the hours of 5am and 11pm, the white noise of Mumbai floats along the airwaves across the city. I want to say that I miss the peace of the mountains, but these days, I’m getting very accustomed to the city. It isn’t that I prefer the city, at all, but I’m finding fun in hearing the sounds, being carried around by punctual vehicles and wandering past the graffiti-covered and sometimes crumbling, sometimes impressive buildings. I’m starting to feel very safe in the city, which is more because of me and less because of the environment.

I haven’t explored much, only because my purpose for coming to Mumbai was to participate in a Panchakarma program to detox my mind, body, and emotions. Just like everything else I do, even in the mild stimulation of the clinic environment, I’m discovering new or repeating characteristics within myself that are ready to be shed.

The people here are very friendly, and I’m feeling myself wanting to form some stronger bonds here. Historically, strong bonds with people are rare for me, but when they happen, they happen fast, and completely on their own. I find myself thinking about how to be open and close to people here. No, how do I feel it? Ugh. It isn’t frustrating, but it is confusing. I know if I shift my inner feelings to openness and warmth, inviting people in, then it will allow others to want to be around me as well. Inner world creates outer world. Remember?

As I lay on the treatment table the first day, I felt my body stiffen with every pat of the white, hot sacs filled with herbs that smelled so good that all I could think of was spreading them on some toast with ghee and eating them instead. A clay pool was made on my chest and filled with hot oil. Still I was stiff.

“Are you thinking?”

Yes, of course I was. But I wasn’t thinking in the way that she was asking me about. I was working the entire time to relax my body after every touch. I guess she could only feel it getting tighter the way it does when someone is thinking in a circular way. Even after all of the work to relax and clear my mind, my protective system still does not trust that my environment is safe.

The second day was easier. It took 10 minutes to feel like I could let my muscles go. In doing so, my sensory system was able to sense that no, my atoms, in fact, do not drift apart if my muscles let go. Bravo. As I lay there, I thought about the barrier between therapist and patient, or a person providing a service and the recipient. I could feel the distance between us and it was definitely contributing to the building tension in my body. When I was working, I remember the times my work was the best were when there was no barrier between us. I could express a passion for what I was doing in a safe way, but it wasn’t often that I was able to make this kind of connection.

As I lay there I thought of how could I create a bridge. I didn’t want to do it just to be more comfortable though. I’m spending a month with these lovely people and I want to know them. I realized I didn’t even know the woman’s name who was smushing dough onto my chest.

I asked her name. So simple. After I asked, she asked me a few questions. With just knowing her name, I felt the distance of the gap between us shrink. She was wearing a delicate necklace of black beads alternating with gold, with a gold pendant hanging on the string of beads. I complimented her, and she asked if I was married. Strange follow-up, however she asked because the necklace she wore was a “marriage license.” I felt myself react inside. I felt like the necklace was like wearing a sign or collar. Why is the idea of a ring romantic and a necklace feels more like a weight? I didn’t realize I had this programming.

After the patting and oiling finished for the day, I wasn’t sure what to do. It was so early. I wanted to get out and explore, but I had to wait until after lunch. I went outside and for the first time in a year, voluntarily did some “breathwork.” The technique I like most is from Joe Dispenza. It is the only one that I know I’ve done correctly because I felt that it was right last time. Because of the way the technique is done (standing), I find that an irrational fear of falling two feet to the ground on my back rises within me when I think of trying. The fear feels ridiculous.

I tried the first breath and it worked, but I felt the fear snapping me up from the arched position too fast as I was about to tip backwards (or was I?). I tried two more times; same thing. On the last one, as on the earlier attempts, I could see bright geometric patterns dancing in the black space I was in, and then I lost orientation completely, which is normal. I did feel myself snap my body upward to avoid a fall again, however. As my vision came back, I realized I was lying on the floor. I had fallen as a result of trying to avoid falling. I could have just laid back on the soft grass, but my fear flipped me over onto the pavement side. Nothing hurt, but I decided to wrap up my attempts until I let go of the fear, and maybe ate something proper for the day.

I took a walk on the streets finally and felt at peace as I walked over ruins, following the confident locals across streets filled with bicycles, “autos,” cars and trucks, when they felt like crossing. I walked through the market and turned left and right without checking the directions on my phone. Somehow in India I’m comfortable not using a map, but in Italy I am not. I guess I’ve let go a little.

At dinner, a woman I had seen a few times came down and sat at a table near me. It is strange here. Everyone seems to be on their own journey and therefore always sits apart for meals. I’m finally feeling social, so we are on opposite tracks. I did get to talk to the woman, briefly, before she returned to her meal in solitude. Like everyone else here, I asked if they have explored the area at all. She confidently replied that no, she hadn’t, because she is very focused here. Everyone else had said the same thing to me.

Being past the stage of feeling controlled by the dysfunction of my body (mentally and also with the severity of it finally reduced), I had forgotten that the people who came here were trying to heal. Sure, I am trying to heal, but in a different way. My occasion for being here feels more joyous and exciting, rather than critical or important. So, I don’t feel wrong for wanting to explore and I don’t feel anything about the others wanting to focus. I feel that everyone deserves exactly the experience they want to have here. However, for me, my entire life has been a focus and will continue to be, so I’m going to take some time off to get a sari and go dance around the 10ft Ganesh Idols being carried around in the streets this week.