How I learned to be a successful failure in Goa
Chapter 8: Rehab for a recovering perfectionist in India
Welcome to Chapter 8 of Love at First Flight, my round-the-world travel memoir.
In this chapter, I attempt tai chi, qigong and chakra healing on a course in Goa—despite barely knowing what a chakra is—and try not to fall asleep while meditating.
You can read chapters 1 to 7 here.
Here I was, standing in a tranquil garden in Goa, wondering if I’d made a huge mistake.
With its comfortable shade and lingering scent of incense, the space seemed a world away from Arambol’s noisy scooters and heat. It should have been calming, but my inner critic wouldn’t stop:
What if I’m not good enough? What if I can’t do this?
Burnt out and broken-hearted, I’d come to India searching for peace and balance. Back in London, a ‘Panda Yoga’ course teaching tai chi, qigong and chakra healing had sounded like the perfect antidote. But now, the two weeks stretched ahead like an eternity. I barely knew what a chakra was, let alone the rest.
Part of me wanted to walk away and sip coconuts on the beach. But deep down, I knew I needed this.
Meeting Panda
Fifteen of us gathered in the serene open space of ‘Panda’s Garden’. Tucked away from Arambol’s main road, it was shaded by palm trees that muffled the sounds of the world outside.
Nervously, I twisted my ring—it was my grandmother’s. She’d passed away shortly before my trip and I’d brought it to carry her with me on this round-the-world journey.
Our teacher, Panda, entered with a quiet presence, his warm smile and unhurried manner put me at ease. He spoke about his decades spent studying Eastern philosophies and assured us:
“Ask as many questions as you need. Do as much or as little as you want. I won’t even mind if you fall asleep. Simply being here is enough.”
I smiled, remembering the time I dozed off during a meditation in Thailand.
Panda explained how he’d designed his practice—combining tai chi, qigong and chakra healing—to harmonize the body, mind and spirit. At its heart was the concept of accessing ‘no mind’: a space beyond conscious thought.
The idea of quietening my restless mind—the one replaying worries, doubts and to-do lists on a loop—sounded like a dream. If ‘no mind’ could bring me peace, I was all in.
The first steps
We began with qigong.
The movements were deceptively simple—sweeping our arms up, down or side to side—but they required surprising focus. Panda explained it’s a way to balance the body’s energy, or qi:
“The body stores emotions in its cells. By coordinating your breath with the movements, you keep the energy flowing.”
When he invited us to lay down for the moments of stillness, I’m sure I took advantage of the permission to drift off.
At other times, I found focusing on the space between my eyebrows helped me to meditate. Later, I’d learn this was my ‘third eye.’ Of course.
Falling over
Panda shared a story:
“When I was a teenager, I was part of a skateboarding troupe performing at shopping malls in Canada. During one show, right in the middle of a big jump, I fell off my skateboard and landed with a smack on the ground. Everyone stared at me in shock.”
He grinned, pausing long enough for us to imagine his humiliation, before adding:
“Mistakes are inevitable. The question is, how do we respond to them?”
At the time, I smiled along with the group, not knowing how much that question would resonate with me by the end of the course.
Chakras and connection
That afternoon, Panda guided us through chakra healing, a way of opening the body’s energy centres through focused positions.
We began by tuning into the root chakra at the base of the spine, symbolizing our stability. Perhaps, by leaving everything to come here, I was finally finding my footing.
Next, we turned to the sacral chakra near the pelvis, linked to creativity and emotions. While focusing on it, something long buried stirred—had I traded the joy of creating and feeling deeply for practicality and survival?
Each chakra carried its own theme—confidence, love, intuition—until we reached the crown chakra, symbolizing spiritual connection.
I didn’t understand everything, but I knew it was about recognizing who I was and how I wanted to grow in these areas.
Trying tai chi
In the second week, the focus shifted to tai chi.
I’d only ever seen it done by old people in parks—graceful, trance-like movements that half-fascinated and half-amused me.
Attempting it myself, I quickly realized how difficult it was. Panda explained:
“It’s a process of constant correction. You’re aiming for egoless action—moving without thinking, while maintaining the body’s natural symmetry.”
An older woman on the course kept correcting my postures. She meant well, I told myself, but each comment jabbed at my pride. Panda, noticing my frustration, asked if I was OK. Flushing with embarrassment, I admitted:
“Yes, but I think my ego has kicked in.”
He smiled.
“Don’t worry. Just accept it. Don’t fight it or attach a story to the situation. Just be.”
Panda’s advice hit home. I’d spent so much of my life berating myself as a failure for every misstep. Besides, who was I kidding, thinking I could master tai chi in two days?
I thought back to the ending of his skateboarding story—his spectacular, very public fall. He’d revealed:
“At first, I was mortified. But then I thought, Why not pretend it was on purpose? So, I made a joke of it, gave an exaggerated bow, and the crowd went crazy. They thought I was a comedy genius!”
Mistakes didn’t need to cause embarrassment or self-doubt. I could simply smile, learn and move on.
I was finally starting to settle in, when a moment on the beach brought an unexpected revelation.
A transformative afternoon on the beach
We took our afternoon practice to a quiet stretch of Arambol beach.
In our circle, I stood taller, planted my feet more firmly and claimed more space than usual. Perhaps this course was having a positive effect on me.
The sea breeze and the sound of the waves added a soothing rhythm to our movements, grounding me in the moment.
One day, during the chakra healing, we reached the heart chakra. I placed my hands over my chest, closed my eyes and breathed deeply, listening to the waves.
As my heartbeat pulsed under my palms, an image of my grandmother appeared. Her love—and my grandfather’s unwavering devotion to her—washed over me, unlocking something I’d been holding in. Silently, tears fell as gratitude and compassion radiated from my heart, filling every part of me.
While it was an intensely personal moment, the safe, non-judgmental atmosphere made it natural.
That evening, as I walked back to my guesthouse, feeling lighter than I had in months, the ring on my finger glinted in the sunshine.
Work in progress
By the end of the course, something had shifted.
My inner critic had quietened, free from the pressure to always excel and prove myself.
Leaving Panda’s Garden one last time, I strolled through Arambol’s colourful street market. Smiling at the pushy salespeople ready to pounce, a thought struck me for about the fifth time that week:
I’m in Goa! How did this happen? This is my life now.
I’d made it here, to this unexpected corner of the world and it was home, at least for now.
And for the first time in years, I wasn’t chasing perfection. I was simply being—no stress, no work, no worries.
At last.
✨ Enjoyed this chapter? Tap the ❤️ to help more readers discover my story. Have you tried something new recently—perhaps tai chi, qigong or even picking up a paintbrush? I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences in the comments.
Stay tuned for the next chapter, where I dive deeper into my creative journey and stumble upon an unexpected discovery in Arambol. Read it here.
Looking to plan your own solo adventure in Goa? Read my blog post full of tips and recommendations.