I was doing my Yoga this morning and started thinking that last year at this time I was at the Sivananda ashram in Kerala India. It's hard to believe that a year has gone by. So much has happened. My trip started out being all about me and trying to "find" myself in a way. What I found was that the world out there is so big and complex and that's so much more interesting than me.
There were times when I loved being at the ashram and times when I felt like I couldn't stand another minute. I wanted to take a hot shower, use a toilet with a flush handle :) and wash my clothes in a washing machine instead of by hand. Everyone else seemed so acclimated to the food, the lack of amenities and, for the first time in my life, I felt kind of spoiled. I remember meditating early in the morning at Shiva hall with the rest of the ashram and hearing the lions roaring in the nearby wildlife preserve and thinking, "one day you're going to remember all of this fondly."
When I finally left the ashram and went to the lodge in Trivandrum, I was so thrilled to have my own room, bathroom, access to the Internet on a daily basis and television. Even the phone that allowed me to make international calls seemed enchanting. Everything is relative as they say because when I got to the hotel in New Delhi and I realized I could take a hot shower for the first time in two weeks, I took such a long shower that I flooded the bathroom. I then proceeded to order ice cream, pizza, samosas, and breakfast in the a.m. via room service.
I was somewhat overwhelmed by Delhi both times I was there. It was crowded, noisy, and unlike any place I've ever been. The day I had scheduled to go around the city with a driver, I suddenly felt like I was coming down with a bug and kept running to the bathroom. I wasn't sure I'd be able to go on the tour. I did my yoga asanas that I'd learned at the ashram along with the breathing exercises and I told myself "you can't wimp out. You may never have this opportunity to see Delhi again." And I had a wonderful day.
What struck me during my time in India is how everyone was so curious about the U.S. Whether it was a temple guide, an Irish dorm mate, the driver who took me around Delhi--they all wanted to talk about the U.S. In the process, I found my identity shifting from that of just "me" to an American in the world. I'd noticed this before when I traveled abroad, but never more so than on this last trip. No matter how much we choose to view ourselves as individuals traveling alone in the world, we are also citizens of the world and the countries we come from. When I saw the footage of people all over the world celebrating Obama being sworn in as President of the U.S., once again that really was driven home for me.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Ode to a Renaissance Man
Since I can’t afford to travel as much as I’d like to, another form of travel for me is reading a good book that takes me into another world or time. I’m a sucker for autobiographies and memoirs by Hollywood stars, particularly from “old Hollywood.” I’m especially fascinated by memoirs—what people remember about their lives and choose to reveal to the reader—the good, the bad, the mundane, the fascinating. People like Kate Hepburn, Kirk Douglas, Sidney Poitier have all written compelling memoirs that I really enjoyed reading.
I’m always curious to see if there was a “road not taken” or a key decision they did or didn’t make that somehow impacted the trajectory of their lives as we so often like to think. What seems to often be the case is that these people were destined for their path of stardom as though fame perched on their shoulder and hung on for dear life. Sidney Poitier turned down roles that he found demeaning even when he was poor as a church mouse. Katherine Hepburn defied stereotypes and lived her life as she saw fit way long before feminism had taken hold in the 70's. That’s not to say they didn’t go through hard or challenging times, but what I find is that most of these “stars” somehow managed to stay true to themselves in spite of whatever challenges and opportunities came their way.
Most recently, I started reading Christopher Plummer’s memoir In Spite of Myself. He of The Sound of Music that he affectionately refers to in the book as S&M. I’ve had a crush on Christopher Plummer since I first saw that movie at age five and I have seen it at least 15 or 20 times since. I knew that Plummer was a serious stage actor who cut his teeth in stage productions of the great Shakespearean roles prior to signing on to the role of the captain in the Sound of Music. At this point in his life, he seems to have come to terms with his participation in this movie and says he finally understands why the movie is so beloved to millions worldwide.
Reading Plummer’s book is like taking a rollicking ride through the heyday of stage and cinema up to the present time. He gives us the back story to the stage productions and films he starred in, including the Sound of Music. Sadly, it shattered any illusions I might have had that he and Julie Andrews were romantically involved during the filming of the movie (the cast stayed in different hotels for the filming of the movie in Austria).
In his prime, Plummer palled around with Jason Robards, Jr. and other bad boys of Hollywood and had more than his share of romantic liaisons with women, which certainly isn’t surprising; I have always thought he is one of the best looking men to ever appear on the silver screen. Plummer’s great love of literature and wordplay comes through in his descriptions of how he tackled a particular role. He also sprinkles whimsical poems of his own and others throughout the text.
I was interested to learn that Plummer comes from distinguished lineage in Canada. His great grandfather was one of the first prime ministers of Canada; another ancestor was one of the founders of McGill University. His parents divorced when he was very young and his mother had to return to work in reduced circumstances. Plummer seems to have spent much of his life trying to distance himself from his elite gene pool.
If you’re looking for some introspection or soul searching, it doesn’t come until he meets the love of his life, Elaine (his third wife). He writes of her on page 464“Her appearance instantly broke a recurring dream that had plagued me most of my life but which now made complete sense. In it, I am the incubus fighting my way through bile and slime; something incredibly heavy is pushing down upon my face. I can breathe no longer, I’m suffocating, life is slipping away. Then far above a light begins to shine through and with one terrifying heave I am released. Some kind of nocturnal monster has retched and spewed what’s left of me out into the brilliant sunlight and like some beached flounder I land with a joyous slap onto the warm and welcoming white sands. Another temporary reprieve? No! This time I had been truly spared.”
I’m always curious to see if there was a “road not taken” or a key decision they did or didn’t make that somehow impacted the trajectory of their lives as we so often like to think. What seems to often be the case is that these people were destined for their path of stardom as though fame perched on their shoulder and hung on for dear life. Sidney Poitier turned down roles that he found demeaning even when he was poor as a church mouse. Katherine Hepburn defied stereotypes and lived her life as she saw fit way long before feminism had taken hold in the 70's. That’s not to say they didn’t go through hard or challenging times, but what I find is that most of these “stars” somehow managed to stay true to themselves in spite of whatever challenges and opportunities came their way.
Most recently, I started reading Christopher Plummer’s memoir In Spite of Myself. He of The Sound of Music that he affectionately refers to in the book as S&M. I’ve had a crush on Christopher Plummer since I first saw that movie at age five and I have seen it at least 15 or 20 times since. I knew that Plummer was a serious stage actor who cut his teeth in stage productions of the great Shakespearean roles prior to signing on to the role of the captain in the Sound of Music. At this point in his life, he seems to have come to terms with his participation in this movie and says he finally understands why the movie is so beloved to millions worldwide.
Reading Plummer’s book is like taking a rollicking ride through the heyday of stage and cinema up to the present time. He gives us the back story to the stage productions and films he starred in, including the Sound of Music. Sadly, it shattered any illusions I might have had that he and Julie Andrews were romantically involved during the filming of the movie (the cast stayed in different hotels for the filming of the movie in Austria).
In his prime, Plummer palled around with Jason Robards, Jr. and other bad boys of Hollywood and had more than his share of romantic liaisons with women, which certainly isn’t surprising; I have always thought he is one of the best looking men to ever appear on the silver screen. Plummer’s great love of literature and wordplay comes through in his descriptions of how he tackled a particular role. He also sprinkles whimsical poems of his own and others throughout the text.
I was interested to learn that Plummer comes from distinguished lineage in Canada. His great grandfather was one of the first prime ministers of Canada; another ancestor was one of the founders of McGill University. His parents divorced when he was very young and his mother had to return to work in reduced circumstances. Plummer seems to have spent much of his life trying to distance himself from his elite gene pool.
If you’re looking for some introspection or soul searching, it doesn’t come until he meets the love of his life, Elaine (his third wife). He writes of her on page 464“Her appearance instantly broke a recurring dream that had plagued me most of my life but which now made complete sense. In it, I am the incubus fighting my way through bile and slime; something incredibly heavy is pushing down upon my face. I can breathe no longer, I’m suffocating, life is slipping away. Then far above a light begins to shine through and with one terrifying heave I am released. Some kind of nocturnal monster has retched and spewed what’s left of me out into the brilliant sunlight and like some beached flounder I land with a joyous slap onto the warm and welcoming white sands. Another temporary reprieve? No! This time I had been truly spared.”
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