Baron Michael Mojohito John Richerson von Tchudi

Something I’ve learned a lot about during this stay in Romania is my process of adapting; not the adapting itself, but how that process unfolds in my thoughts and actions. You know that I had a difficult time here when I first arrived – I really struggled for the first few months, for a wide variety of reasons. When I changed my entire lifestyle and attempted to re-adapt to the prospect of a relatively domestic routine, I was surprised at how difficult it was to feel settled. I strove to establish control in a world that was familiar to me but also wholly new. It wasn’t the language barrier, or the old friends with established routines that I couldn’t quite enter into, or even – strictly speaking – the lack of food staples that I relied on so regularly in the States (such as miso, tempeh, and mung beans); it was the fact that when I changed virtually every element of my life that I practically forgot all of the little tools I have to keep myself fit, balanced and healthy. Adapting is what humans do, and I make a conscious effort to be flexible and adjust – if not thrive – under new and challenging circumstances; I mean, it was (and is) fully possible for me to transition into just about any environment seamlessly, observe my new surroundings, and find what I need to do perfectly well.

But I forgot that.

I had become rigid in my thinking and routine in the San Francisco life. And while that rigidity included yoga and martial arts nearly daily, healthy food, and good friends, it is the rigidity itself that is the problem. So upon arrival in Cluj (traveling from place to place for the month before wasn’t a problem – only the prospect of being settled again!) my entire established routine was gone, and I practically panicked. It wasn’t yoga class after work, it wasn’t Whole Foods market, or take-out vegan dahl at 10pm, so it was… I didn’t know! And then I felt defeated, I didn’t know what to do, so I collapsed.

I had little epiphanies, like when I lost the fear to use language and travel alone, that really started to boost my confidence, but then it all just clicked. I remembered that I am self-reliant, and that I have all the tools for happy-being right in my mind. When I started making the time to do some yoga every morning, my allergies cleared up, then my heavy smoking went as well (note use of the word ‘heavy’ – haven’t quit yet, I’m afraid). I made an effort to have meals with other people – Bori being principal – even if that meant spending some more money or eating food that doesn’t fit into my (rigid) definition of ‘healthy’. I backed off on being so hard on myself for maybe not having an optimum level of creative and productive output, and paid more attention to the time I was spending; taking walks, writing because I feel like it, engaging in activities that maybe aren’t the most exciting but which I enjoy and help me feel calm, and (possibly my favorite pastime) contemplating.

What I’ve realized, of course, is that my attachment to rigidity, and rigidity itself, disabled me from adapting. It sounds so simple and obvious now, but when that little thing dawned on me, my ‘problems’ disappeared – and now I can focus on more important things.

It was two years ago, when I was here in Cluj the first time, that the process really started.
Before then, I had never considered myself a spiritual person – scoffed at the idea, really. Oh, I had dabbled in religion – attended church, tried to believe in something – but it was ESP and psychic phenomenae that really caught my attention, ghost photography and alpha brain waves. I’d always considered myself a very pragmatic person, open minded and whole-brained, but interested only in the practical. I even thought quantum physics was a bit too mystical. Only interested in the “real world”.

I can’t call her a teacher proper, though age in years hasn’t anything to do with it. It’s not as though she imparted to me a particular skill-set or philosophical outlook, though we certainly explored both of those topics and more. I never quite adopted her point of view of spirituality, but shall we say, I adopted elements. She saw something in me, something I hadn’t seen in myself – or had seen, but couldn’t identify – and she led me to discover that for myself. A glimpse into my ‘inner nature’, and a challenge of my objective view of reality.

“going through another wave of conflict with the world.. i’m like a wirlwind.. devastating all that’s around me, yet laying a healthy ground for new life.. as the whirlwind tends to go in all directions, yet stays devoted to its center.”

Then on, I was on my own. I don’t know any gurus or enlightened beings, and I tend to be skeptical of self-made spiritual masters. Back in the States, I picked up a straight job, and picked up books. Ancient Nordic magic, contemporary occult magic, Taoism, Ayurveda, some crazy-assed sci-fi shit with detailed technical instructions on how to transmute one’s physical body into energy, and on; and what struck me most about these texts was not the differences, but the similarities…
And I knew where to begin.

I’d had a couple of failed experiements as a vegan. One of which involved using the term freegan – meaning vegan by choice, but never turning down free food – however my three virgo vegan bisexual female roommates berated me rather constantly “either you’re vegan or you’re not! there’s no such thing as freegan!” (although it would have been nice if they supported my feeble first steps, but being young and idealistic makes it easier to be militant) so I quit altogether, and moved out. Just wasn’t working for me. They kept stealing my girlfriends.
Some years later, in San Francisco, I began to study whole-foods nutrition, trophology, and ayurveda. I was struck by the desire and need to transform my life, starting with the basics; establish strong eating habits while young that will promote a long and healthy life. However, the end goal seemed nigh impossible.
Pizza is damn irrisitable, and I shouldn’t even mention ice cream. Or a bacon cheeseburger.
And for several months, pizza wasirrisistable. At company gatherings or at nice restaurants, inevitably the food was meat-and-dairy laiden, and the freegan in me spoke loudest, and I would gleefully eat food I knew in the back of my mind was toxic only a couple of steps away from pure poision.
But over time, the decisions became easier and clearer. The less meat I ate, the less I craved it. Same for dairy. After an experimental ice-cream binge, I had a hangover all day, and that was that. My energy increased, my attitude improved, my mood stabilized. I required less sleep and I found excersize more appealing – particularly yoga and kung-fu.

The more I learned, the more I wanted to learn. I began to see my body and mind as an extremely sophisticated machine for which I had no manual – and in fact had been taught all sorts of wrong ways to use it. I realized the connection between food and spiritual well-being, and I decided that this was something I had to persue further.

I discovered Heartwood through researching the author of an excellent tome on the subject, to find that Paul Pitchford teaches. After visitng the school/retreat, I realized that I couldn’t not go there.

So I quit the corporate job, took some of the saved money so I could return to Romania, visit my friends, and drink like a fish – before purifying my body and spirit this Autumn – and this is where I call home these four months…