TravisJohnRobertson.com

I’ll update right as I get home from the conclusion of my self-indulgent weekend of yoga.  12.5 hours, haha!

How do I feel?  Incredible!

The physicality of it all?  Maybe.   More, though, I just had a weekend with an instructor (Patrick Creelman) and adjustor (Lawrence)  super good at pacing, and knowing, and intuiting (a word?).  More than that even, he was funny and inspiring.

More, too, getting to know people from the studio better and connecting.

More getting better at familiar poses (slash postures), taking on ones previously fairly unaccessible (crow comes to mind), and taking on poses completely new.

I’m exhausted… but this weekend was such a testament to how much I’m in love with practicing, with connecting, with learning and growing; often my yoga practice is such a metaphor for my teaching practice and condo practice and life practice.

I did it.  I’m grateful.  I’ve learned a ton. …and I hope that much of the learning really stays with me in a pretty enduring way.

Yes, I could have been working on my Capstone this weekend; yes, I probably should have.  BUT.  I make no apologies.  This weekend couldn’t have better or more productive.

In fact, I bet my studies are better for it.

…and if not: my Downward Dog (and Upward) certainly are.  That’s good enough for me.

The yoga studio was abuzz about Patrick Creelman for the last little while.  I’d hear: “He’s so funny!”, “He’s an amazing DJ!”, “He has people doing things they had no idea they could do!”

“I couldn’t sleep last night, I was so excited” the girl on the mat behind me smiles.

Well tonight I met him.  For 2.5 hours-ish… I folded, and held lunges, and….. breathed and stayed present… just like the others, in awe: both of him, and of the whole practice, and of my being there in the midst of it all.

I have four more 2.5 hours-ish sessions over the next two days and am pumped (mostly because I sit here feeling so, so great!).  I’ve never done so much yoga like this… so, we’ll see the result.  I already have a 90 minute massage booked Monday so I’m more ready to dive-in wholeheartedly.

The classes really are great, fitting for this week.  Lee announces her engagement.  Report Cards got finished (and essentially started) today.  Plans and adventures and schemes get made.  Accomplishments are accomplished.

A week of pieces falling into place and as they do, peace does too.  Peace, and anticipation, and gratefulness.

…anticipating tomorrow’s and the next day’s classes.

I probably won’t swim from Cuba to Florida in my lifetime.  I say probably because I don’t like to close doors.

I can understand, though, the need for an undertaking.  One that starts now, where I’m at, with an idea and then continues to grow there one step/decision/stroke at a time.  I’ve had a few already and they’ve taken many different forms: 40 Days on the mat, then 30, 3 years researching Educational/Information Technology Leadership, running 10k, becoming a teacher, taking on most of Alberta’s major cities, new jobs, new hair, new major/minors, French Immersions, 200m Individual Medleys, a Forum in Ottawa… I digress.

Undertakings, it turns out, can be stirred up by trips to Australia.  [...and by Internet feeds].

And I’m yearning for one.  [...just like I was yearning for a flight just before that Australia]

One I know I’m serious about because I started a binder.  …and the realized undertakings that have happened to date have almost always started with a binder and/or duotang. I’m not so naive to know that these next few months aren’t going to be pretty major and epic already as I wind-up the graduate degree but I’m also experienced enough to know that life doesn’t stand still as that happens either.

So stay tuned.  This week and next are yoga-filled.  As I prepare for and participate in Wild Lotus I hope some of the quiet, active, aware time provides some insight on undertaking-potential.  From there, conversations, creating, and committing.

Beginning, again.

I think it’s safe to say, here on the final leg of my Winter Break journey, that Sydney changed me.  While all trips have me-changing potential, I’d imagine, this one changed me in a world-opening, heart-opening, eye-opening, energizing, motivating, whoa-man kind of way.

I’m going to try, at some point, to write about the fireworks on the harbour in view of both the bridge and the opera house at.  The light and the music and the sounds are all a bit ineffable though.  I can tell you, though, they literally made me cry.

I’m going to try to write about SCUBA diving RIGHT at the Great Barrier Reef and seeing clown fish, among many, many others.  I was both more and less scared than I thought I’d be and could only guess that I’ll be SCUBAing again, and maybe even getting certified.  Why?  Well because I kind of felt like I was flying, and kind of feeling like that is a bit hard to match any other way.

While these two events are maybe stand-outs this trip wasn’t two experiences: New Years and the tropics.   This trip, from moment one was much much more than any one piece.

It was seeing the extra sunlight right from the plane window and the anticipation of taking it all in.
It was the many, many beaches.  The monopoly game (and victory!).
It was laughing non-stop.  It was knowing looks.
It was the night markets complete with relaxation.  And it was the micro-, mini- drama.
It was the food and indulgence.
The pools and the SPF and the sometimes missed spots.
It was the beach crawl and the waves and the rock pool and Bondi being so full I wondered if we’d find a spot.
It was the fear of sharks and later the fear of crocs and stingers.
It was actual. kangaroos.  Beetroot in our burgers.
It was the humidity of the rainforest and the crazy price discrepancies in boomerangs.
It was collapsing each and every night into a full sleep.
The music.  The familiar friends and the newer ones.  The learning that liquids are okay on domestic Australian flights.
It was Darling Harbour’s quirky little things like ping-pong tables and strange waterfall craters.
It was having an accent…  and having no real stress.  It was the confidence of having both in combination.
It was getting kicked out of pools at 7:00pm sharp.  It was not getting kicked out of pools when maybe we should have.
It was the opera house and the sunsets and the bats and the spiders.
It was the two beautiful ladies waiting for a tropical flower to bloom.
It was knowing which waves to go over and which to go under.
It was the sea turtle near our boat and dancing and having our champagne glasses never fall below half-way.
It was David and Scott.

It was all these things and the moments in between.  That remind me.  Of a planet and life, I’m awfully, awfully grateful for.  And for friends that make all things possible!

Now, how to best make use of some of this learning and energy and change before my tan fades until I can no longer feel the saltwater in my hair.  I can’t wait to reflect and share photos and write and remember to figure out the specifics of how.

But, yes, Sydney changed me.  I know that and I’m not even back in Calgary.  Yet.

Sometimes in your blog you need a post to look back to where you’re so grateful and excited and glad that all you want to do is bask in it all.

Times like when Christmas and Boxing Day have you well fed and when you’re just on the cusp of an adventure, in many ways, as big as they come.  …What’s that Spanish word again, corazonada?…

You need those posts because there are other posts where the work is overwhelming and the decisions are tough and the winters are long and dark and the homework just doesn’t seem to get done and the housework either.

Yet from this vantage point the latter posts seem unrecognizable and impossible.  From the top of the world, things further from the top become pretty distant.  Here, where it’s hard to set an intention for the coming days… only because all the many possible intentions just seem so great.

Thank you “August/September Travis”… for this 30th birthday gift.  Turns out:

…you know me so well!

The notion of a solstice is an interesting one.  Winter Solstice, in particular.  It reminds me of things getting better and brighter; it also reminds me that in the quiet (and coldness and darkness) of Winter is an inevitable Summer, slowly getting closer.

The shortest day of the year (or longest night… depending how you want to look at that) also reminds me of my Grandpa L.  Turns out this time of year, is a time for thinking of family in more ways than one.

I’ve already mentioned the amazing things my Grandparents and family exemplify, and my humble grattitude.  For this grandparent, though I’d have to add one more virtue that’s especially prominent (and very evident on both sides of my family tree, too): discipline.

The discpline gene is one I hope I’m able lean on as I wade further and further into adulthood.  Hard work, quiet reflection, doing what’s right and not just knowing what’s right all have value.  I know that as I reflect on memories with this Grandpa.  He knew his stuff.

Beyond discipline is heart: my Grandpa’s laugh was a deep heart-filled laugh.  My Grandpa’s joy and pride (often in his kids and grand kids) could be felt two, three, four towns away.  …and wisdom: I have so many stories and conversations I remember in great detail; again, benefiting from growing up so close to my broader family.  His stories, his views, his polished appearance (and polished home and car) are beyond nostalgic for me; they’re part of me.

Core aspects of my life I’ve learned with, through, and from my Grandpa right up to a Christmas season spent in northeast Calgary.  …where I was able to truly determine what it is on this planet that has the most value.

Devoted to life, learning, and love while grateful for family, abundance, and life-lessons I pause this solstice and remember.

All with yet another tearful smile.

My hands keep ending up in prayer position.  My dreams keep ending up with me travelling… recently in Europe, of all places… while I walk I wonder if I can feel whether the ground is different under my feet, and convince myself I can.  If Vancouver taught me anything about flights to see dear friends, it’s that they have a way of feeling overdue and the arrivals feel strangely familiar.  My to-do list awareness has parent conferences front and centre, but gift buying maybe even more prominent.  Although, almost done.  I find myself looking forward to the meals, and that last day at school that seems a little surreal and filled with students buzzing.  I’m glad the days can’t get much shorter here.  I’m grateful my university terms are positioned as they are… too soon, to worry about March, in any real way.  Packing doesn’t register either.

Should I be doing some running and swimming and push-ups to prepare for my time on Beaches and in summer?  Maybe some tanning since I haven’t seen real sun in months? More yoga? …and the malls, just how busy will they be?  How can I make that jet lag slightly more bearable?

I eat the treats in the staffroom convinced the sugar and the fat are warranted at this timer of year; at least part of me thinks I should be hibernating a little.  A smile came easily at African on Monday despite there being a circle requiring let-go, let-loose, get-some-courage solo-time.  A smile came even easier tonight as I shared great food with great friends.  December has flown by; the days are long but the months are short… it seems… in these 30′s (haha, there’ve been two and a bit).  Waiting for the flight to Australia is a bit ineffable compared to other trips; for whatever reason I can picture the flight and have trouble anticipating much beyond that.  I have a bit of a reference of Bondi, and city life from my brief visit last round [while also having a reference for some pretty major heart-hurt].

Haircut Tuesday.  Conferences Thursday/Friday.  Home Friday.  Festivities Friday/Saturday.  Take-off… living life quite fully (and getting to be one of the first North Americans to experience 2012).

Wondering.  Wandering.

My grandparents exemplify love, and joy, and kindness.  My parents do, too—beyond hard work, dedication, and commitment.

That’s why on this day in 2004 I experienced profound loss.  My grandfather passed away.  I was completely caught off-guard as my cousin then parents contacted me as I was student teaching.  My expression must have matched my heart because my mentor teacher quickly told me that despite there being a few weeks left, I’d demonstrated enough to complete my requirements already… and that I should be with my family for as long as I needed.

I grew up minutes, if not seconds, from my grandparents.  I knew them and they knew me very well.

It’s not lost on me that I’m very fortunate to experienced family and love and happiness in the way that I have. As I continue to work with families more and more, I continue to see the huge spectrum of experiences (young) people have.

I gladly took some time with my family to be sad, to remember, to organize, and to consider what was happening.

My memories of my grandpa are beyond heartwarming.  I remember him on walks and wagon rides.  I remember him nearly always there as I played sports (spoke, or performed). I remember him at dinner tables with amazing meals and warm-spirited competitive card games.  He was hard working and fit allowing him to garden, recall railroad stories, and stay active with all us grandchildren.  I remember him smirking, rolling his eyes, listening, and laughing.  I remember his smile, his presence, and his laugh.

Today I remember and smile.  I continue to be grateful for the family and life he (and the rest of my family) made possible.

I continue to hope that I also exemplify some of the best of what this life is all about:

Love.