Arrival in Sri Lanka

    The first thing I noticed upon my arrival in Sri Lanka was it's lack of noise. I had never understood the mental toll of the constant barrage of noise that I'd been undergoing in India. The silence was soft like a pillow.

    I'd be staying the next week or so in the house of a local family in Ahangama - a small city along the coast. The house I'd be staying in was quaint, but beautiful. The garden was luscious with life, having flowers of all colors. As I explored the home I thought, "If I ever have a home of my own, I want it to be like this one." It was minimalistic yet overflowing with warmth and coziness. I mainly chose this place because it was just across the street from the ocean. The sounds of the crashing waves only heightened each mornings first spiritual sips of coffee. I'd end up spending many evenings listening to the ocean as I thought about where I'd go next...

    Immediately upon arriving, the host (and father of the house) took me to a local food joint. The place that he took me to was a one man show. Just an old sweaty shirtless man who did everything with elegance and grace, taking the utmost pride in his work. It was a very contradictory but beautiful sight. It was obvious this chef was in his flow state. He asked me what I wanted and as always I said, "Surprise me." He smiled and started painting. The sounds of him cooking had their own orchestral feel. CHOP CHOP TINK TINK SIZZZZZZLE SIZZZZZLE CHOP TINK SIZZZLE. It was its own performance. As a result of this mans love filled labor, I was served a hot plate of silky rice noodles peppered with egg, vegetables, and the most magical combination of spices. The serving size was as big as my head. I thought, " Even if I left Sri Lanka now, after having just arrived, it'd be worth the culinary experience that I was having." 7 years later and this memory still makes my taste buds tingle in the best of ways. I slept deeply and peacefully that first night. 

    For the coming days my routine in Sri Lanka went something like this: 

    I'd awake in the early morning, drink my coffee, practice French on my phone (Why? I had a sneaky suspicion that eventually my heart would pull me to France - to reunite with Stella), and then drag myself to the ground outside to do my Ashtanga practice. There wasn't a place in the house that suited for a practice, so I did what I'd grown accustomed to doing while traveling. I just practiced on the ground outside. My mindset was that if you can practice on the dirty hard ground, or in any location, then you can practice anywhere. Over the years I've practiced in the rain, cold, at bus stops, train stations, alley ways, airports, gas stations, with no sleep, etc. I was a bit of a psycho (still am!). Following my morning practice, I'd break my morning fast with some giant papayas. GIANT papayas. It was always such a pleasurable moment in my day. I'd eat the fruits with my bare hands letting the juices go all over me (a habit I picked up in India) - not caring about anything. I felt like an animal eating in this way. Maybe that's why I loved it. I'd then follow each mornings fruit ravaging with a swim in the ocean to clean myself off and reset my body after hours of intense practicing.

    After this I'd go to a surf lesson with a local surfer dude. I'd like to tell you that after some time that I got the hang of it, but it turns out I absolutely suck at surfing. I imagined I'd be atleast ok. Nope, I was absolute trash...but I was having a good time at being bad, falling and falling over and over again. Despite my "failing", the whole scenario was blissful. I had no idea what I was doing in life, where I'd go next, for how long I'd stay on this island, or anything. But I did know that I was fucking living! Spending my days practicing Ashtanga, sucking at surfing, eating foods that rocked my world, wandering randomly through different cities - it was all a previous Coreys pipe dream. Typically I surfed (tried*) until my hunger pulled me out of the water. I always ended up at a specific place that served the most insanely life impacting jackfruit curry. Dammmmmmmmn. I look forward to the day where I can taste that dish again... And just like in India, everyone ate mostly with their hands, which made every eating experience more intimate and slow. Eating with your hands is definitely the way to go.

    After my daily feast that followed my morning training and surfing, I'd then go wander around the cities that were close by. I never had any goal. Only to watch and observe the world around me. Each day I took a different path. I noticed all the men were wearing something called a "sarong". It was more or less like a badass skirt. Before long I picked up my own (which I still have to this day). And so this was my life for a bit. I was a sarong wearing shoeless wanderer who spent my days practicing yoga, reading, swimming in the ocean, and eating delicious food. I was completely out my cultural "place" yet I felt so comfortable and stimulated. During these days I came to the realization that adventure isn't always about epic journeys, rather about how you navigate or explore the simplest of days. The first step to any good adventure starts in the mind. You don't have to travel the world to change your world. To change your mind IS to change your world...anyways - random philosophical cliche wonderings...

    My Sri Lanka routine was suddenly interrupted in the best of ways when I decided to move to a hostel. I had had plenty of time alone and decided moving to a hostel would spice things up a bit. This move to a hostel ended up being a great decision. Because of my move I befriended a Buddhist monk, became a glorified dog walker in order to pay for my stay, found some opportunities to teach yoga and give massage, and met some people that greatly impacted my time on the island. More on all that in the coming posts...

Until then,

Corey