LOVE finds me.

My story is ruined. You see, I was supposed to meet the man of my
dreams on some romantic beach in Galapagos, ensuring a neat and happy
ending to my book like any good romance novel.

But all that changed this week.

Dave found me on OK Cupid. He wrote to me whilst I was in Asia. I remember feeling a twinge of excitement when I checked out his profile... reiki practitioner, did massage, was a well-known speaker and writer in his field, was well-traveled and did not suffer fools. Sounded like my kind of guy,even though he had a beard and mustache and I can't stand hairy faces!

He was the first date I arranged after arriving home in the USA.

Dave writes: After a particularly bad breakup and the resulting months of healing, a friend suggested that it might be time to date. A different friend, much more adept and immersed in the dating "scene" suggested a particular Internet site that would be a good place for more "alternative" type people without simply being an anonymous sex cesspool. I jumped in, wrote words, answered questions, posted pituress and started searching. A short list was created and boldly off to the dating stars I went to go where no man had gone before.

One of the Profiles that made me stop and read was that of a petite blonde English ex-pat who described her work and life mission as a yoga teacher, tantra teacher, world traveler, author and mentor. I would read her words, look at her picture and imagine this diminutive stature, large personality woman living in a world where she would fall for a bear of a man of whom personality was always the thing women have loved and body, well, not so much. Nonetheless, a short, eloquent note was sent off to beg the important question.

As it turns out, Yoga Goddess received my note while on an extended teaching trip through Asia. Yet she wrote with an interest and an intention to meet upon her return. A success. Better yet, she wrote a couple more times with trip updates. Even better, when she shared her website address, I discovered that I had actually seen her before when searching Google for yoga teachers in my area and somehow felt I knew her.

It was in that moment that a rush of understanding came to me. As a Body and Energy Worker I know this feeling. But it is often affirmed or corrected when I touch someone. Can't touch her in Asia, so I was content with a warm fuzzy feeling. And as far as I was concerned her return couldn't come quickly enough. Every "coffee date", good or bad, always left me wondering about the free spirited one.


“Hi Julia, I'm Dave. Great to meet you. Can I get you a coffee?”
We were in my local Starbucks. I saw a giant of a man standing before me, well dressed, imposing but 6 ft 5 huge and broad to match. He had to be at least 400lbs.
“Thanks – I'll have a tall latte and one of those yummy caramel bites – I am totally addicted to them!”
I was nervous and babbled, feeling a bit awkward and self-conscious as I felt Dave's big blue eyes scanning me for the first time.

We found a couple of comfy seats and started chatting; small talk about my Asia trip, what he does for a living and the usual stuff we do whilst our minds evaluate the person we are meeting and our
energies meet and sense the other.
“He doesn't look like his picture,” I was thinking. “He's way bigger, has less hair and looks older.”
But I LOVED talking to this man! I instinctively felt safe with him, and after feeling ungainly and clumsy from being around delicate, elegant Asian women, in Dave's presence I felt petite and feminine, a good feeling for me.

Dave said he was an agronomist, an expert on grass and turf, so he works on golf courses. Jack Nicholson employed him for years to help build golf courses all over the world. He'd traveled as much as I have. Yet as a true Rennaissance man, Dave also played bass in a band, loved to cook, dance and go to hot springs; and dive.

“I love to touch and learned massage at Esalen a few years ago. If you'd like me to come over and work the jet lag out of you I'd be happy to offer.”
Well, really, a very nice man wants to practice his massage on me. And he learned that smooth, flowing Esalen-style technique that is so relaxing to receive. What girl in her right mind would say no to that?
Besides I really LIKED this man, even though I did not feel attracted to him in a physical way. I was happy to get to know him better as a friend. Of course, I did not say that right away. That would be
off-putting. So we made a massage date for the following week and said our goodbye.

Dave writes: Upon the return of Lady Julia, she took a few days to purge jet lag and we agreed on a time and a place to hold the ritual ceremony of The Coffee Date. It's not a hard activity if you like job interviews, root canals and other invented activities that are designed as emotional spanking machines.

Of course, I'm a wreck all day with nerves yanking my system like several hundred bee stings. And at the same time, I have a feeling of peace like I'm meeting an old friend. But in the weeks waiting for her return, I'd had a few of these first dates and a couple of second dates and for the most part dating was starting to look and feel like an activity along the lines of stacking deck chairs on The Titanic.

Miss Julia entered the Starbucks, late, but not too. She had told me she'd be the girl in jeans and a pink jacket. There were jeans, no pink jacket; a sign she was just checking the box and meeting the Large American to get it over with?

The most important thing to me, immediately, was that her vibey, intelligent speech was real and profound and I found myself falling into her British accent as if I had just tried to walk across a swift moving stream. Plunging into the exhilarating cold, realizing I had to swim in the current of the conversation with all I had, exhilarated, yet somehow forgetting I never intended to swim.

Time passed quickly. And I simply had to ask her if I could see her again. She related that there were some busy moments, there were some openings. I figured I could take that. But my overarching sense was that she really didn't see me. Coffee dates. Had me thinking that what I should do is just take my dog and head for the hills somewhere. Reminds me of a scene in Robert Redford's classic movie, Jeremiah Johnson, wherein Redford's character asks the old mountain man, Grizz, if he ever got lonely for a woman.... a full time night woman. The answer was something to the effect of him having traded in his squaw for a gun and some tobacco Wisdom? Perhaps.

Here's what I knew: a Goddess stepped into my life and I recognized it. As a man, regardless of my height, weight, education, cultural construct or anything else that makes me the special creation I am, I owe it to myself to embrace that recognition enough to show this person who I am. Once she sees and I know her vision is clear and then and only then if she doesn't feel chemistry... the credits roll, a sad song begins to play and this cowboy rides away.

That's not how it happened.

In Elizabeth Gilbert's footsteps..

I LOVE BALI! Am enjoying my 12th visit here to this most sacred of isles where the heart energy of the planet is still strong. The south area has been very developed and continues to get more congested and busy with each passing year. Yet I am writing this sitting on my porch overlooking the rainforest, complete with monkeys galore, wafts of exquisite flower bouquets drifting into my nostrils, sounds of the cicadas and birds trilling...a feast for the senses.

Yesterday was my friend Deborah's 60th birthday and as part of her gift, I took her to see Wayan, the healer that Elizabeth Gilbert saw in "Eat, Pray, Love," We got lucky and got right in to see her. Deborah chose a body scan and future reading.

Wayan is a lovely smiling lady around 45 with a strong presence and limited English. She reminds me a lot of Atarangi, my Maori healer friend. Sure of herself, motherly and kind. Oh and a straight shooter - she did not mince her words - she told it like she saw it to Deborah!

The healing started with prayers - asking permission of the Gods to heal the body. Then she asked Deborah to stand up and started to scan her, touching hands, looking at nails, feeling her belly. As she saw an imbalance, she spoke it.

"Too much sugar. Too acid. Not enough calcium. Need more vitamin E. You lazy with taking care of body."

Then she looked at her palm and started to read what the lines revealed.

"You have 2 big heartbreak in your life. You live long time. You have one man love you but you don't return it."

I took notes while Deborah absorbed.

Then she was told to go and put on a sarong and head for the bathroom where a Balinese man rubbed her down vigorously with leaves; a skin scrub to detoxify the body and wake up the energy.

Fianlly Wayan massaged her, not gently like the spa therapists, but in a directed firm way that was more reminiscent of our maori healer friends. She poked a stick under her arm to stimulate the lymph and rubbed a bottle of hot oil down her belly so hard Deborah yelled!

After 40 minutes or so she emerged, a new woman! Wayan told her to take herbs to complete her treatment but the Aussie woman there said they had made her sick for 2 days as she de-toxed and tomorrow we have a 4 hour drive to the north coast. So she passed on that.

Instead we found the health food restaurant across the street and ate a tasty, organic lunch. The juices here are amazing too....

Ubud where we are today still has elements of paradise on earth. I would wish for you all to see Bali ....put it on your bucket list!

Visit from the blogging monster

I woke up this morning far too early with a blog inside my head.

Blog blog blog, it shouted.

But I don’t want to blog! I can’t stand the thought of even one more minute on the computer!

It was very annoying and wouldn’t go away.

Blog blog blog – it persisted.

Them Mick Jagger started yelling at me…

“Please allow me to introduce myself...” (what song was that from?)

Shut up Mick – I want to go back to sleep!

“Please allow me…”

Oh all right then! Just shut up!

I will blog, even though I do not have a clue where to do it, who on earth would want to read it and how it may help.

I will blog. Just let me get back to sleep!

So here it is…

And to appease Mick – I am Julia Tindall, 53 years old, yoga and tantra teacher, resident of Sacramento, California but a Brit originally, newly single and writing a book with the working title, “ My Galapagos – a Woman’s Evolution.”

This book takes a look at the drama of my thirties and contrasts it with the menopausal years of my fifties. Who am I now, as the body changes; what gifts are there to be acknowledged and explored? And how can I live with my life with the vitality and curiosity of my younger days without compromising my wise, authentic self? In the book I look back at some of the events that shaped me in my thirties and then jump into present time with a trip (next February 2012) to Galapagos and Ecuador where I intend to travel as an independent adventurous traveler as I did in my thirties.

Yes it’s a little “Eat, Pray, Love-ish”, set in South America, but my tale has a different twist and invites a different style of inquiry. It’s funnier too.

But here is the problem. I do not consider myself a writer. I have written 2 other books but they are jnana yoga (self-inquiry) books of the self-help variety, not a story like this one, autobiographical in nature.

Now that Elizabeth Gilbert – she can write. And I admit it – she did inspire me to put pen to paper,,. wait – we don’t do that anymore – I mean whip out my keyboard and start typing – as I felt I had a more interesting story to tell and it spans not just the period of time from my romance addicted and eventually disillusioned thirties but jumps into the challenge of menopause and embraces the fabulous fifties. Oh and takes place in exotic destinations and involves lots of hot, juicy guys. And the odd bearded yogi.

So can you help? Would you be willing to offer suggestions, feedback, comments, questions as I go here?

Galapagos has been on my bucket list for quite some time and just in case the world implodes on Dec 21^st 2012 I thought I’d better see it now.

But before I go, I will be filling you all in on some back story. How I ended up living in America by meeting a blind guy with a pair of shorts to his name on a beach in Mexico; how I transformed from Real Estate Agent into Spiritual Teacher; how the scary bearded yogi found me when I was shattered into many little pieces and put humpty back together again….

I’m sure there’s more but it’s still early and that’s all I can think of for now.

Finally that BLOG noise in my head has quietened down. Think I’ll try and go back to sleep….

julia tindall

www.juliatindall.com

Copyright Julia Tindall July 2011.