Le Journal de +Louise

The other day, a dear old friend asked me the most absurd question, “Are you happy?”

In which, oddly enough, I gave her an even more profound answer, “Yes, I think I am.”

Had she thrown me this question a few years, or even a few months ago, the answer might have been a very different one.

When I was young, the mere sight of dad’s car pulling up the driveway, birthday celebrations in class, fried chicken for lunch, marshmallows, the colour blue, the crisp paper smell of a new book…All made me squeal with joy. It was simple. I was happy.

But then, I started growing up. Suddenly, it was all about calorie counting, getting that dress, buying that bag, scoring the grades, strolling into a plushy job, landing that fat annual increment, chasing those dreams, cashing in those cheques, and working towards that corner office. It was exhausting. Somewhere, somehow, in the middle of it all, I gave up. High school, tertiary and early 20′s came and went in a swirling storm of angst, frustration and emptiness.

Thankfully, nowadays, happiness to me means something else.

Happiness is the feeling of my heart pounding out of my chest and subsequently splattering all over the pavement whenever I go for a jog.

Happiness is knowing that if I was ever to be awoken by the chills of a wintry night, a warm embrace is just mere inches away. Happiness is staying up late, talking and laughing into the night, and knowing that when tomorrow comes, we will still have just as much, if not even more, silly things to talk about.

Happiness is sitting in a stark classroom, learning new ways to twist and curl my tongue, in an attempt to master a foreign language. Happiness is being able to converse in whatever little French that I know whilst ordering breakfast in a quaint café in Paris.

Happiness is when the captain announces the descent of a flight, and vision of blinking lights of the city of destination below. Happiness is the lethal infection of the travel bug.

Happiness is the smell of freshly brewed coffee on the way to work.

Happiness is knowing that loved ones are just quick a phone call away, and even more so, a short 8 hour plane ride away.

Happiness is lying in a big heap of sweaty mess at the end of a yoga class, in complete awe of the mechanics of my body and more importantly, the determination of my mind.

Happiness is learning to accept and love the person staring right back at me in the mirror, bulges, rolls, dimples, wrinkles and all.

Happiness is a gentle peck on the forehead; the spiciness of ginger tea; the tanginess of dark chocolates; curling up in a tub infused with lavender and geranium oils; good food and wonderful camaraderie; autumn; Leo…..

My favourite teacher always prefaces the class by saying, “Set your intentions right now. This class is however you make it to be. It does not matter how well or how badly you did in your last class, this class is the one that matters. It can be the worst 90 minutes of your life, or it can change your life forever. It is your decision. Choose wisely.”

I hold this piece of advice close to my heart, throughout my entire practice, and out of the hot room. In the past few months, slowly, I have learnt to let go of some past shambles, after all, isn’t life full of choices and it is what you make it to be?

I have finally made up my mind. I chose Happiness.

After a night of blissful sleep, photography enthusiasts that we were, woke up at around 6am, hoping to photograph the Trevi Fountain before the entire world caught on.

The fountain was surprisingly very serene that early in the morning. The crazy mobs the night before had retreated back into their respective enclaves. Rome, once again was in its peaceful, somnolent state, exactly how I remembered her the first time I set foot on her soils.

This, was what I returned to:

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He knelt down with one knee on the cobblestones, and whipped out the most brilliant looking thing tucked snugly in a brown, unassuming box.

With his gaze firmly fixed against mine, he uttered,

“Babes, I love you. You are my soul mate. We have been through thick and thin, I want nothing but to spend the rest of my life with you. Since we are already in the Eternal City, will you… marry me?”

I must confess. Being one who has always been allergic to the idea of marriage, my knee jerked answer was less than your conventional, ecstatic, teary eyed bride-to-be response. In fact, it was downright brash, curt, and dare I say it, unromantic.

However.

On that very day, the 3rd day of November, I decided to take that leap of faith. After all, isn’t that what it’s all about? Taking chances, in life and in love?

And just like that, on the ancient grounds of the Eternal City, in front of the Trevi Fountain and under the calm, watchful eyes of the god of all oceans, we sealed our love, and I said, “Yes”.

Everyone soon or late comes round by Rome….

Robert Browning.

Trip Report – {Rome 2 Nov 2008}

ROME was the first stop of the italian leg of our Europe trip back in November ’08. We booked our tickets nearly a year in advance with Singapore Airlines; the long wait leading up to the trip was almost intolerable that we vowed to never hunt for air tickets so far ahead in time, unless we are absolutely prepared to live through yet another long bout of wild anticipation.

After almost 23+ hours of air travel, we finally flew into Leonardo da Vinci – Fiumicino Airport at around 7am. The impending adrenaline rush of treading the grounds of the Eternal City was so overwhelming that I was happy to overlook the long, uneventful flight and the inconsistent cabin temperature.

We pre-booked our cab online through RomeCabs and were happily greeted by a round, slightly scruffy looking man holding a yellow placard with our last names casually scribbled on it. Mario, our cab driver spoke very little English but he seemed just as enthusiastic about Rome as us first time visitors were; motioning aggressively at each prominent landmark as we drove past. All the while we were in awe at the magnificent structures that pulled up in almost every corner our little white cab weaved into. The desolate AquaDucts, the barren Circus Maximus, the majestic Piazza Venezia, and we promptly held our breaths and squealed as we caught glimpses of the Colosseum peeping through some Mediterranean autumn foliage.

After a 30 minute cab ride, we arrived at our hotel, Relais Fontana di Trevi. Since our room was not ready, we left our bags at the hotel and went on a mad hunt for an Italian breakfast.

Fontana di Trevi
The moment we stepped out of our hotel and with a slight turn to the left and onto the cobble stone streets of Rome, we found ourselves in a compact square (piazza), awestruck by the imposing sight of the largest Baroque fountain in the city of Rome, surrounded quite tightly by terracotta buildings with brown, blue and white shutters.

Oceanus reigns here upon his shell chariot and the massive basin of water below was filled with coins of those who wished to return to Rome again some day.

Our stomachs were growling as we walked up Via Del Corso. Rome, in its sleepy and groggy state, had only just started to kick off the covers with health conscious joggers pounding quietly on her pavements and the beeping and unloading sirens from delivery trucks slowly stirring her up from a late Saturday night.

We picked an alfresco table at Bar Brasile, overlooking the magnificent Piazza Venizia and had my very first cup of Italian cappuccino and quickly devoured an eggplant Panini.

Piazza di Spagna
The Spanish Steps were a short and comfortable walk from the Trevi Fountain. Designer shops and major Italian labels lined the narrow cobbled streets leading towards the Piazza.

Crowds gathered around and on the steps of Fontana Della Barracia (Fountain of the Old Boat).

Piazza Del Popolo

We wandered along Via del Corso and saw an obelisk in a distance. We arrived at Piazza Del Popolo (The People’s Square) and marvelled at the second oldest and one of the tallest obelisks in Rome.

Pantheon
The late afternoon sun cast a sombre glow against the Pantheon, the oldest standing domed structure in all of Rome. Originally built as a temple to worship the gods of Ancient Rome, since the 7th century, the Pantheon has been used as a Roman Catholic Church. Wreaths of flowers lined the tomb of the 2 Italian Kings, Vittorio Emanuele II and Umberto I who were buried inside the Pantheon.

The dome of the pantheon has an opening, the oculus (The Great Eye) lets in a stream of sunlight into the somewhat dark interior.

At around 6pm and extremely consumed with jet lag, we decided to break all travelling rules and headed straight into McDonalds for a quick bite on via Del Muratte.

Relais di Trevi
By the time we dragged our weary selves back towards the hotel, the crowd gathered at the Trevi Fountain had turned for the worse. It was close to impossible trying to navigate through the maddening groups of tourists and street vendors. Luckily, our hotel is quaintly and perfectly tucked away from the hustle and bustle of Trevi Fountain. Our room was tastefully decorated in baroque wallpaper, complete with a minifridge, a writing desk, flat screen tv and our bags were already safely lined up back to back against the closet doors.

That night, we fell asleep amongst the company of wondrous structures, of ancient gods and dreamt of leather shoes, cobble stone streets, gladiators and the Colosseum…..

This morning I found myself being unwillingly hurled under a mini celebrity spotlight in class. I was 1 day late, 3 weeks into my 5 days a week challenge, I was not about to give it all up. One more week and the challenge is over.

So I decided to do a double. First class at 7.30am and the second class at 9.30am. 180 minutes of yoga. I’ve done a double before, but not back to back, and I survived. So I thought to myself, “How hard can it be?”

As the class finally inched past more than the half way mark, I got out of Bow Pose disorientated. Suddenly a thin veil of fog clouded my vision, no matter how much I blinked or rubbed my eyes, the entire room remained blanketed under a layer of smoke.

Towards the end of the class, the teacher singled me out and commended me on my efforts. “Louise did a double session today, she was also here for the 7.30am class.”

As she adjusted my stretch and pushed me deeper into the posture, she said “Beautiful stretch, Louise. See? The second class is always so much easier than the first, well done!”

Every stretched and worked out iota in me wanted to scream out at her. I wanted to caution everyone within that hot, humid room that it is definitely not easier. In fact, it was hard as hell. Triangle nearly killed me and I could barely attempt half of Camel. I wanted to scream “NO, it is not easier! Didn’t you notice me struggling to work through all the postures in the class?” A concoction of sweat and tears trickled down my burning cheeks, all I managed was to feign a weak smile. In a mere distance, I could even hear muffled claps from a few regular yogis beside me.

As I lied down in Savasana, I forcefully focused my eyes at that dull grey speck on the ceiling, watching it slowly take shape over graduated shades of black.

Really? Does anything really ever get any easier?

No, nothing ever does.

But at this point in time, on this very day, all I could do is just keep breathing and keep working at it.