post goa comeback

hey there, happy new year! yup, i’m back folks!

actually, i don’t know if that’s necessarily true.

physically, i’ve arrived back in johannesburg after 3 mostly blissful weeks in goa, but i think there’s almost a lifetime of thoughts and experience and change swirling round my brain – most of it inchoate, little of which has had time to congeal into words – and i’m not even sure how much of it is fit for public consumption. 

3 weeks sharing a tiny, cramped, little room with my friend crystal, sleeping on a single bed with a mattress so thin it took weeks for my hips to stop complaining. cold bucket showers with no towel, having to dry off with my face cloth and air-dry the rest, smelly indian-style squatting toilets –  an exercise in deprivation – yet, suffice to say, it was beautiful.  sweaty, melanoma-temptingly hot, gut-wrenching, with cows, soul-splitting, inspiring, with more cows, question-inducing, extreme polarities of light and dark,  a few more cows and some flies,  playful, fun,  a lot more cows, flies and mosquitoes plus  facing my demons and being met by the light. about on par with a first trip to burning man – except for the cows. and the flies and mosquitoes.  life-altering.

life altar-ing…

i’m grateful and i’m blessed… and i’m going to try very hard to remember to stay that way.


new year's eve sunset on arambol beach

new year's eve sunset on arambol beach

another beautiful arambol beach sunset


the view from our little room at the oceanic

offering digestive biscuits to the durga's tiger at magic park

view of arambol beach from the gate of the oceanic guest house


with crystal and new old friends, tapesh and chandra



feeling the flow…

this is the xmas letter i sent out this evening…

Father Christmas in Nainital, Indiahello my friends and family

i’m writing you this from an internet cafe on beach road, arambol, goa, in india where what with no newspapers and no radio or television blaring xmas jingles, no xmas decorations, no tinsel, none of the commercial western trappings that shout give me your money!, one can almost forget that it’s xmas.

i’m halfway through a 3 week stay in india where i have been caught up in the most incredible flow, where whatever i’ve needed has presented itself almost effortlessly and most timeously.

scenario: late night in anjuna on a deserted stretch of beach, 45 minutes away from arambol where we’re staying, the scooter won’t start. 5 seconds later a stranger appears, starts the bike and proceeds to push it through the sand and out onto the road for us. we realize we’re about to run out of gas. along the road another stranger upon inquiry, points us round the corner. round the corner, we get gas at, of all things, an internet cafe. don’t ask. 1/4 of the way home on our said rickety scooter whose lights light up the side of the road and very little infront of us, we stop at an intersection, not sure which way to go. suddenly 2 guys (one sudanese, one french) appear, and upon our asking the way to arambol, they proceed to escort us (and because we’re helmetless, i’m driving REALLY slowly) all the way home. one leading the way, the other behind. when we offer to buy them a drink as thanks, with typical goan hospitality, they instead feed us and offer us our first taste of the local honeybee brandy. one of them a few days later takes me to a place where i get incredible hammocks, and then when i cannot seem to locate a ticket back to mumbai for my connecting flight, takes me to a travel agent he knows and i get an impossible to get train ticket for a fraction of the price i would have had to pay for a flight.

talk about manifesting!

ok, so admittedly my friend crystal and i have been felled for the last two days by what i call “goan gut”, resulting in us having a white xmas dinner – rice and curd, lassee and ginger-lemon tea; the only things our bodies can stomach – and we’re both achy and sore from head to toe with kidneys feeling like we’ve done a few rounds with a prize-fighter, but still, it’s all worth it. we’re staying next door to a place called magic park and it really is magical. despite the flies and the mosquitoes. they have futons and pillows where one can hang out to one’s heart’s content, reading and order incredible vegetarian food like spirulina sunrise smoothies, or you can do a yoga class or mandala dance or play with the jugglers in town for the juggling convention which unfortunately only starts a few days after i leave. or you can go 400 meters down to the beach and drift for ages in the unbelievably warm water, feeling like you’re being cradled and nurtured. or hoola hoop on the beach and play with whoever stops by and buy coconut water from the woman who walks by with a basket on her head and chops it open right infront of you.

today i bumped into koren, who is someone i know from my moontribe days back in l.a. and though she has an incredibly sad story, we could laugh and cry together and find the positive and later i managed to get a massage therapist to change his plans and give my incredibly sore body some bodywork. at his house, i bumped into a woman from san francisco, who also used to go to burning man. the world grows increasingly smaller… shrinking with each amazing connection.

and so even though i was halfway through this email earlier in the evening before i lost everything to a dodgy internet connection, i decided to come back and try again. i wasn’t planning quite such a missive. all i wanted to say, was that you each, in your own way, have a very special piece of my heart and i’m glad to have you in my life, whether it’s 10 000 miles away or in my everyday and i wish you a magical holiday in whatever way you choose to celebrate it – or not.

love and blessings


i’ve run out of words.

i think. haven’t written a word the last week. no poems. nothing. it’s as if i’ve finally climbed out of my head and into the world.

i am. being. i think india does that to one. and i’m loving it. hooping on the beach, being cradled in the arms of a warm goan ocean, playing, sharing my skills with others,  letting life flow me from one perfect moment to the next.

i’m following my bliss.blissfully.