A Travellerspoint blog

Just me, my yoga mat and I


So, I had nothing left to do. All that needed to be said was said, and everything that we did was done. My last option was to dedicate my yoga practice to love, happiness and focusing my attention inward “thy self” as my teacher refers to it. I did what any girl would do, having the first falling out or disagreement in my new relationship; I turned to yoga or Buddha. Okay maybe not any girl, but there was nothing left and the “if he loves me he will call me rigggghht now” expecting some sort of magical phone ring on the “now” playing in my brain. I was driving myself crazy, if only in my mind.

Naturally, I dedicated the one hour class to “staying on my mat” let’s translate that to mean I have a nasty habit of looking around the class at what everyone else is doing or not doing, eyeing them up and down like an Italian chick in Milano’s fashion week. “What are you doing that I can’t?” or thinking “Well, I can do that too!” Well, I smacked myself in the face before I chugged a dose of reality and admitted that I sound like a two year old child. Who am I to look or sneak a peek at anyone else’s mat in the first place? And get real Krysta, because that woman is double your age, so stop gloating. In turn I stopped looking around the class at each of the lovely women but turned towards myself. I focused on what I am good at and what I love so much about the practice. By the end of the class I was smiling not only with my lips, but my heart and soul and laughing with the other ladies instead of giving them the “Italian momma and your dating my son you’ll never be good enough” competitive eye.

Perhaps what I really realized is that I need to “stay on my mat” in all aspects of life. I am constantly comparing myself with others, other women’s bodies, celebrities and friends. I put my relationships under the microscope and examine the evidence side by side with the people that I know. Like yoga in which no two bodies are the same, so we can not just glaze over at the next purple lotus flower mat to either give ourselves confidence or jump start (or stomp) competition or make ourselves feel negatively if their “Tree” pose is awesome. No two relationships are the same either we just can’t peer in our neighbors windows to analyze their relationship. As soon as I gave this deep thought and searched with in myself (Only) on my own paisley green yoga mat I began to understand. We are what we are, each person is different as each relationship is different. And sometimes we have misunderstandings or a disagreement with people we love, but the answer is not what lies on the out side but the secret lies within. As I walked out to my car a little drizzle kissed my face, I smiled from within. I couldn’t help but wonder if ‘he’ finally called after 24 hours without speaking, the answer was clear, what is meant to be will always be and if not then, oh well, there is a reason behind it. I looked down at my phone and saw the blinking missed called. The conclusion is we must find ourselves first, clear our minds, take time to breathe and in the end what is right will be.

Posted by goldenomad 18:58 Comments (0)

Let's curse the what if's and maybe's


Sometimes it just takes a moment, a decision, a gesture to change a life time. Destiny or whatever you want to call it. If the man pictured above misplaced his hand on those flaming fiery Pilipino numb chucks I would have had some serious issues, but he didn’t miss a beat and I still have some issues (which is besides the point) If my flight was never canceled, I would have never met him; if my ex-fiancé didn’t chose to live in D.C, I would have never found him, If I never went to Italy I would have never met the most amazing women in my life or found my self again. A choice, a turn of events, a bunch of what if’s and maybe’s. Coulda, shoulda, woulda. There is no such thing as an accident; I was always meant to be here where I am in the present and where I have been in my past. It has shaped my being and my soul. Every person, opportunity and love was given to me as a gift as I cherish each uniquely, brought to me for a reason. Where I will be tomorrow is unknown but I know that I was always suppose to be there and I have nothing to fear. Sometimes we must loosen up, un- button our up tightness, let down our hair and shake- it- out and let life flow naturally. There is no reason to fight it because what will be was always meant to be. When we give in to life it takes us on a beautiful journey that so often we miss because we are thinking about the next step in our lives. Life reminds me of a river and you can struggle and paddle and swim with all your will upstream but you will not get very far, if you give in and let it guide you it could be the most amazing ride of your life. Really we are the authors of our own stories; we are the creators of destiny. As I sit here I am going to live life now, because tomorrow is unknown for me and really any of us. Why worry and ponder the future, all I have is what I have been lucky to have experienced in my life thus far and what I have today. I am going to get in my raft and buckle my safety belt, because rapids do exist in rivers but they are a hella lot of fun and I am going to enjoy every moment that I am blessed with even if I have no idea where my river is headed or what country it will lead me to next, all I can do is soak in every moment and let it happen.

Posted by goldenomad 18:57 Archived in Philippines Comments (0)

You can search the world...

only to find that it brought you back where you started...

Crouching near the foot of “my A’s” bed digging openly in my newest addition to my family of Italian accessories, my handbag, throwing out lipsticks, chewing gum, old wrappers and things of the sort. I think out loud in a singsong tune “I can never find paper when you need it

I find a crumbled cocktail receipt from Germany, I was there only 12 hours ago living a different life; a quick flashback of my travels and other life as goose bumps dot my skin as quickly as the memory disappears.

I look down at the writing on the receipt it is foreign to my jet lagged brain and every moment I have lived up to this point seems like a dream.

I try and shake the sleep from my brain and squeeze out my last few drops of common sense that I was saving for a needed occasion.

“Okay, right I think now one, two, three concentrate”, I quickly scribble “I love you love, K” on the German receipt and slip the half attempt for a love note under his pillow for him to find when he pulls back his covers tonight, I slide out of the room and close the door behind me, not knowing when I will see him again.

Twenty minutes before I was in a crouching tiger hidden dragon position in A’s bedroom floor, the morning sun was painting colors on my face and danced joyfully around a new bedroom as I tossed around in a restless sleep.

Jet lag and tired I realized the bed I was occupying was not my own, but I was getting used to sleeping in a bed that was not mine. Before finding myself pressed again my Russian lover I was living in Italy for over a year, Spain for the summer and a whirlwind trip to North Africa, then traveling for about three years total living out of a suitcase. I have spent at least two years of my life time in an airport. My own bed was as far away as my next homemade lemoncello in Italy and fragrant rice appetizer in Indonesia.

It took a few moments to register where I was and who was beside me. Not a new lover but someone who has always been there somewhere push in the back of my mind; Countless travels, countless goodbyes and reunions, always going back to one another, if only for a night.

I just touched down into the good old US of A only 24 hours before, living out of a backpack for ten weeks and before my backpack tirade living in Europe for over a year. The familiar sounds and smells of America and the man next to made me smile.

My arm tingled and felt numb under his strong young body on my small frame, young body I may add, four and a half years younger to be exact. I cuddle up next to him and tried to picture what he looked like I the first time I saw him, he looks older now almost like his heart holds secrets I will never understand. I can tell he has had a difficult year in my absence, not because I have been gone but because of things I may never know.

His light hair has turned a shade darker and his muscular build has become slightly thinner, the untrained lover’s eye would never know the difference.

I fell in love with his almond shaped eyes that change color with his various moods; they shine a golden yellow.

The many moods from him and his eyes keep me wanting more, perhaps more than he can ever give, maybe I can not give it either, I keep waiting for him to open up to me, to tell me his great story, like I have done so many times with him.

For me it is easy, I spill my secrets as easily as one can fall off of a log, an open book widely accessible for him. I usually get home from an adventure and one of my first stops is his room.

After our routine reunion is finished he sits on the edge of his bed with his head slightly tilted to the left listening intently and watching my animated show of telling my latest full blown wild adventure. I have the habit of having wild experiences and attracting people from all walks of life. I truly believe it must say “if you are slightly crazy, come and talk to me” tattooed in the center of my head. I am a walking magnet for the circus, and there is nothing wrong with that I may add.

Then he tries to kiss me mid comedy or circus routine and I still manage to ramble on until my point is fully finished and he is laughing at the fact I may look different but I never change. He says, “I could be naked in front of him and I am still chatting away.”

I was an English teacher at a language institute for adults that travel to the USA to learn English in the nation’s capital Washington D.C; he was on a student visa trying to make a life in America. He wasn’t exactly my student but close enough that we had to keep it under the radar.

I was a newly engaged woman when he walked into my classroom almost two years from the morning that my head rests on his arm; he was an interesting man/boy that caught my attention and refused to ever let it go.

Letting my day dream seize and drifting back into reality I gently kissed his cheek and his golden yellow eyes that stop my heart and change color with his every mood flutter awake, he looked up at me through slumber filled eyes, “buongiorno” I whisper.. “Good morning,” he whispered back.

I smiled as the sunlight danced around the room, the smell of freshly brewing coffee was coming from the kitchen. I have searched the world and can’t say that I have found peace like when I wake up to this man. He kissed me and we escaped the world under a tent of sheets.

He walks me out to my car and I let him go through our routine of him starting my car and letting it warm up.

This morning I could not pull out of the driveway, my mind was somewhere else, I stared at the clock blinking red in my blue VW, wondering if 7:00 a.m. was the real time or my imagination was playing tricks on me.

(Today, it has been over two and a half years, his eyes still draw me in casing a spell on me. A romance that has never fully died and perhaps it may never. Who knows? I don’t want to understand, I just want to love and live every moment of it, where ever it goes, which ever road it may take, through the twist and turns, ups and downs, I just want him.)

Posted by goldenomad 18:55 Archived in USA Comments (0)

If it is lost, then it can be found


A woman must know when to stay and when to go, she knows when her time is up, when she is no longer wanted and she feels in her heart when a relationship is no longer good for her. A woman must know when a man is not the right one, even if it stings and feels like her heart is breaking in two. Better now than be disappointed in the future.

It is strange or one may even say interesting that just two years ago I fled out of a window and into the dark night with nothing but a backpack with a few of my favorite belongings and ran out on my fiancé. Never to turn around and look back. I was left feeling sorry for myself, like someone literally ran a car over my body and backed and crushed my heart to see what they hit the first time around. I was depressed, hurt, angry and feelings of betrayal ran through my veins. I have never been angry or depressed, it seems so strange to me both now and then, like a foreign word that I have never heard of. But it struck me, even though I didn’t understand its foreign name, I felt the pain. So, I needed something or someone to run through my veins.

I ran to Italy, to be healed and maybe with a little luck and new self admiration I could have a fling or two. Running now into the present, I did have a few really wonderful flings, one man for a few months debating a move to another city, another man which lasted several months, I fell in love but it wasn’t right. And lastly one fantastic man lasting a year that I was in love with, we lived together and I brought him back to my world in America. He said that he could live here, he wanted to be with me. So, we looked into immigration, visas and lawyers. It would be a long, expensive process to bring a non English speaking man into the USA. The only option would be to get married, and he doesn’t want to get married. Here I am again, sitting in the same place literally and physically in which my heart was first broken in two and I decided to go to Italy. Now I am heart broken from another man, who is in Italy as I sit in my family house, I realize that we are living on two different planets and that our worlds will most likely never met again. He is my opposite, in which he will just sit and wait for an answer, maybe it may never come. He promises things that he does not know how he will accomplish them. Well, how will you do that? With no job or language skills? He doesn’t know, and I must make the decision to let him fly. But I must fly too. And do what is right for me; I know that I need someone with a little more guts, a little more ambition and a lot more adventure in their soul. I know he was a good man, but perhaps he is not the right man for me any longer, and that is okay. I know I will heal from a broken heart, because I have already done that once or twice. And this time it just doesn’t hurt as much as it did the first time. Is it better to have lost than to love at all? I knew in the beginning that this was not forever, but for right now. And it is much better to give my heart and soul and lose it, then to never give it at all. You can always find what has been lost.


Posted by goldenomad 18:52 Archived in Isle of Man Comments (0)

How do you ever know?

I was put on this planet to love, to give it a go.
I wake from a dream, a dream of another time another land. You were no longer mine, but another’s. Another place in time, I lost you. All that ever was. Searching my soul, looking deep into what it is that I desire. What it is that I need, searching for my own wondering heart what it is that I am looking for? I don’t want to walk down this road alone, but is it his hand that I want to hold, his hand that I need. The only person that knows is my soul, deep down I know what I must do, but not ready to do it. When can we let go and know how to fly alone. Not the girl who ever walks alone but unable to leave him. He sits by my side wondering where I stand. Wondering if I will ever fully be his, but I will never fully be anyone’s, born to fly but unable to nest. Where will the wind take me this time, it blows and I fly. But is there a reason to keep searching? Was it what I was looking for all along? Is it him that I am searching for, reaching out to, and how will I ever know?

Posted by goldenomad 18:49 Archived in Italy Comments (0)

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