*Before I launch into my adventures I am sad to say that I had a technical “hiccup” and unintentionally deleted all of the photos off of the first 8 posts I have written. I hope you’ve all gotten a chance to see them as they’ve been published, if not, feel free to contact me and I’ll send you some photos*
I’m at the airport in Boston with TWO BAGS OF SOCKS!
Not really. Quite the opposite actually, I think I only had enough room for two or three pairs. My packing adventure was successful and now the backpacks are stuffed full to the brim, the bigger of the two is probably half the size of my body. It doesn’t help my spacial awareness, every time I make a sharp turn I hit someone with one of the bags.
Security was ehhh. I always feel like I’m part of a herd of cattle and the TSA workers are just moving us through. While I understand they need to go quickly and efficiently, it’s the lack of respect for their fellow human that bothers me. It’s almost like they’re sour because they’re kind of like police officers…but never got a gun?? I don’t know for sure, just speculation.
Last year I was flying home from visiting family in Florida and I always opt out of the scanners so I don’t get blasted with radiation, although they always tell me “They’re completely safe”. Maybe in the future I will print up some the facts for them. Opting out means I have to have a pat down, which is always a good time… The first thing they do is yell (so that everyone in line can hear) “FEMALE ASSISTANCE!” What the heck is that supposed to mean? I need assistance? No, apparently I have to have a stranger decide if I’m a terrorist of not. They make me wait for a while off to the side in a little gated area (feeling even more like a cow now) until someone finally comes to “assist” me, now both of us in this situation aren’t very happy. I don’t like being touched, and I’m sure the TSA worker doesn’t want to touch me. But the way I was treated at the Hollywood airport in Florida was pretty bad. I felt like I was being detained, the woman was extremely rude and would not even look me in the eye. After she was done poking and prodding me another TSA worker came by and put my backpack right next to me, after it had been extensively searched. I thought it was all over so I got up to grab my backpack and was met with a “Don’t touch that!!” Why? Did you plant a bomb in there? Because I sure didn’t. Before I could go they had to wipe my hands with some cloth to see if I had any remnants of whatever they’re searching for. When it was all over I’m pretty sure I ran out of there.
Anyway, at my gate there’s a huge TV tuned in to the news. It’s all a big jumble of Trump making that weird pouty face and saying Hillary is incapable of presidency, and Hillary going after Trump for the way he nonchalantly addresses “locker room talk”. Instead of talking about their policies, they’re going after the other’s faults. It’s like watching two teenagers on a reality TV show. I don’t care much for politics, I think it’s all a big joke, but sometimes we all need a good laugh.
And you thought you were gonna read about me frolicking at the beach in California.
All that being said I have an early morning flight so I get the watch the amazing sunrise, which is way better than the other option.
After nine hours on a plane, and an hour and forty five minute drive from the airport to the Mt. Madonna Center, I have finally arrived. The drive to the center is beautiful, the trees are immense. Its unfortunate that I’m arriving during a rain storm, because I can’t see very many of the views, but tomorrow the weather is supposed to be clear and beautiful. The weather is also the reason that I spent nine hours on the plane today. It was supposed to be a direct flight from Boston to San Francisco. There’s a crazy rainstorm in California so we actually had to stop in Denver to fuel up, so the plane would be heavy enough to land in the wind and rain. The flight was supposed to land at 11 am (PST) but we didn’t get in until 1:15 pm. My shuttle pickup to take me to the training center was scheduled for 1:15 as well. For a moment I thought I was going to be stranded in San Francisco, but I found the number for the shuttle service and called. Chuck with a thick accent answered and told me not to worry. He had a hard time figuring out my name “You’re all set Lela…Lola…Lee”.
The San Francisco airport is pretty nice. Of course, since it California, there’s organic everything, and many wine bars. Oh, and a YOGA ROOM!! I’ve heard that yoga rooms are starting to pop up in airports, but I’d never seen one myself. When I got to where I was supposed to be picked up I saw a group of yoga people standing nearby. I knew they were “yoga people” because we all look the same; stretchy pants, mala beads strung around our necks and the greeting is usually “Hi, nice to meet you, oh my goodness, is that one of those self cleaning, auto roll up, biodegradable, sustainably sourced, organic cotton, fair trade yoga mats??!?!? Where can I get one of those?”
Well, not really, but you get the point.
But now I am at the training center and the time change is totally throwing me off, it’s dinner time soon and I feel like I should be getting into bed. However I am so happy that the travel is over and I’m ready to dive into the new yoga therapy material, reconnect with my classmates and teacher, Gary Kraftsow and explore this beautiful center.
Thanks for listening to my ramblings!!