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  • Writer's picturekit cat

Don't let me down, rebuilding the circle of trust.

To be honest for a while this is a story that only my daughter and my best friend knew, eventually I told my yogi sister, because well we have shared stories before, if you hang around yogis long enough inevitably there is a poo story... perhaps its just a human experience story lol.

So one day I was pretty dam hungry, minding my own bees wax, finally sitting down to enjoy some rice and vegetables in a warung (local food shop) here in Bali. I was on the phone to my yogi sister having catch up and I did a fart. Well I thought I did, until I knew I didn't. The reality of this situation broke me fast into a cold hard sweat.

I am going to prefix this story by telling you that I have a cast iron stomach. My friends laugh at me and tell me I could lick the floors in a pasar basah(wet market) and still not get sick.... Its true, I never go down. Well I did one time when I lived in Malaysia when I was 17. I ate off prawns, I knew they were off, I could smell them but it was Ramadan, I was breaking fast and I was a hungry, hungry 17 year old.

Cue me passing out at school & spending the next 4 days in hospital, it was 1988 in rural Malaysia. In the public hospital I deliriously remember peeing in a specimen bottle marked "M" I looked around seeing 500 other people in the waiting room contemplating peeing in their hospital issue, recycled, alphabetised, clear plastic, yellow lidded specimen jars. My thoughts went ......omg I am gonna be diagnosed with some rare tropical disease, how are they gonna know which "M" I am how many times does 26 go into 500??..... Even in sickness my mind was busy busy busy. It was a 3 week recovery at home after that. Since then cast iron.

So back to my seat at the warung table.... Mid conversation I cut my yoga sister off "love you must go busting to go to the loo" No stomach rumble warning no bloating or burping just a shart of shock & immediate shame. I go shame faced in a shart shuffle, to one of the worst toilets, the toilet of your worst nightmares, so bad almost worse than you could ever imagine. A hole in the ground & a bucket of water the tiles broken and bathed in the stench of stale urine, in desperate need of a scrub. Pretty sure I saw a rat leave when I shuffled in . No where to hang my bag, I tie it round my neck and head. I am past panic, parenting myself with an internal, maybe it was out loud self talk. Like adult Kit was talking to a small child Kit "come on Kit, get creative, you have got this, keep it together, its gonna be ok just breathe this will be over soon"

It was most definitely not OK I was wearing overalls!!!!!

Sphincter you have one job, one job, and you let me down.

Blessed to release a packet of Dettol wet wipes from my hand bag headband... I am pretty much naked in this watery stench pit separated from the outside world by a flimsy wobble board like door with a coat hanger fandangled into a questionable security device. Working on literally getting my shit together like I was on a Survivor toilet challenge.

I exit hastily pay my bill & make a very rapacious exit from that warung never to return. I am genuinely saddened by this, as the food is excellent. I mean never ( what the actual eff?? ....even in a poo crisis I am still thinking about future eating expeditions). I am like the only Bule (foreign) tourist for miles, in an eatery that is only locals. I get on my scooter its a 45 minute ride home. Sphincter, I pray silently on continuous loop.... please don't let me down.

As I pull up at traffic lights, I am like please don't come close to me, please keep socially distanced.... Jaga Jarak(Balinese for social distancing) stay away at this is stinky time of need.... It's the only time I have ever been grate full for Camp Covid (ok I was also grateful when the streets emptied and I was able to learn to ride the scooter I am now seated on) I get home, all I want is a shower I have no hot water and zero capacity to boil the kettle. Adrenaline is leaving my body, I sleep wrapped in my damp towel on my bath mat.

3 days no eating no real waking hours, what the heck is this??? I doze off again. I wake to check Dr G aka Google MD & do a few little self diagnosis. One quick quiz had me up the duff... I was like ok thats enough of that!! On the phone to my nurse daughter we do a more interactive diagnosis- nope its not covid, deffo not dengue. Lord knows I was not going to a doctor or a hospital here unless I really, really, really was totally unfixable sick. I felt like this was fixable I just needed self healing shut down, shit down time.

By day 10, 5 of those days with no eating, or moving. I couldn't even watch Netflix just coconut water & a bit of toast that my body ultimately rejected. These were these moments when you long for just a few home comforts ... like your mum. or at the very least Vegemite on dry toast accompanied by flat lemonade. Somewhere mid sleep I even dreamed up a curry pie and I am vegetarian. Some how in the past 5 days I have managed to get Charlie to the vet and back she got desexed, I completed only my most necessary tasks to return to our sick bay back home & continue looking at each other with the "whats wrong with me eyes" it was like we are outpatients in our own hospital recovery ward.

Three kilos lighter I emerge form my cold water cocoon, I put it down to Bali Beli.Not gonna lie I was happy to loose those 3 kilos. Maybe my sphincter letting me down was actually a reset a gift for the universe. Because I spiritually feel lighter and have put action plans in place! I have a new coach working with me to hold me accountable to get shit done. I feel revitalised & ready to get on with stuff! (perhaps it was the new moon)How can I expect people to invest in my coaching if I am not will ing to invest in myself??? After a two week yoga hiatus ok maybe one or two down dogs just to test the water and a couple of Insta posts I am back in my practice & it feels good.

I am actually not sure why I am sharing this story, It may make you laugh it may make you recall your own personal story its a human story & we all have them not everything is yoga unicorns & breathwork orgasms. Sometimes its just shit & you sphincter lets you down.

I am still nervous to fart my as sphincter is still rebuilding the circle of trust.


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