No mud no lotus.

The photograph captures the sheer force of water, we spent some days in Kandy, Sri Lanka, in the midst of a cyclone—a deluge that didn’t let up for four days straight. I was uneasy and on edge, very dangerous.

We are in transit to Kerala, India, and reflecting on how this experience is bursting our bubble in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. We will be in this part of the world for nine weeks, wanting to absorb the essence of these ancient cultures, yet realizing that perhaps surrender—more than control—is what’s needed.

Sri Lankans kept telling me, “Don’t worry,” in the sweetest accent, and I can’t help but wonder if they know something in their bones that I don’t.

I always turn to Tara Brach for first aid, she on her talk: “Becoming Bodhisattvas in a troubled world” told a story about trees and how trees need the stress of wind to grow deeper roots. It makes their wood harder and more flexible.

I can only hope to emerge from this spiritually stronger—tender-hearted and inseparable from what’s precious + also Thich Nhat Hanh said no mud no lotus.

My prayer is to let compassion and wisdom remain my compass, no matter the circumstance.

All and all, the natural beauty, folklore and cultural traditions and craftsmanship had been truly inspiring and enriching.

I’m taking a pause for six days to dive into an Ayurvedic program. Thank you, to friend Constanze, for the expansive opportunity and inspiration to come and visit Kerala.

Also big thank you to my love, Patric who supports every idea I have and my dreams of becoming some sort of medical doctor.

NAMASTÉ

Maria