about one year later at the shala
We are alive
We are alive
Burning bright
Resting easy in truth and feelings
Souls combine
New beginnings
Healing
--
July 23, 2023
Earlier this month, I went on a retreat to Circle Yoga Shala. I went because they offered something that was rooted in service and the spiritual journey. I’m so glad I went. I learned so much in such a few short days. I went to give my hands in exchange for guided meditation, asana, and philosophy. Food from the land. A handcrafted barn to sleep in. I was seeking a point to move forward in some of what I've been studying and writing. And found it there.
At the Shala, it is easy to put into action so many of the words, movements, and philosophies that are part of yoga. It was pure light energy to share community with all who were there. Little by little we found points of connection between each of us. Binding us together. There were nine of us— three teachers in training, five there for service, and one in-between bringing it all together as a natural yogi.
"Do you have a yoga practice?" Jason asked me. Open, bright, honesty. Full of movement, and teaching. Always searching for a game of chess and the elusive, ripe blackberry. Jessica moved into the space so quietly. Settling me with her grounding energy. Living off the land. Baking in her solar oven. Healing with plantain leaves. All knowledge and focused attention. A tree growing. And arriving by starlight came Courtney. Completely free in her mind and body. All air. Drawn immediately to the fire to see who was there. Unbound by the chair in preference for soaring above. A reminder to give our hearts freely in all spaces upon entering. Like the stars that continue to shine day and night. Allen was there. To remind us and guide us. To share knowledge. To inspire us. Pulling weeds and washing dishes without complaint. Truly there to give service in the long summer days. Writing words and hearing our stories. Encouraging. Sarah drove the farthest to be there and for a month she stayed. To serve, to learn, and to move about in her own way. A bridge between all of us like the sun shining. Full of air and light energy— one of the angels undoubtedly. And the teachers in training, exceptional souls, seeking healing and wisdom to give to others wherever they go. Jessie, a divine keeper of the feminine. Dedicated to the sisterhood. Sharing her art and authenticity, favorite music, and hula hooping. There was also Michelle. Full of strength with a gypsy queen warrior's grace. Dripping with honey. Honesty in words. Ease in wandering. A medicine woman with healing hands for calming. Finally, Phoebe, who called me Morgie. Absorbing negative energy. Filling up the room with her laughter and filling our hearts too. Centering us and grounding to the spaces where we moved.
As we all arrived for those next few days, it was Phoebe who built the fire with the wet wood. Flames burning bright keeping us warm on that cool summer night. Driving through the fog and the rain to get there. Flowers growing everywhere. Dogs greeting you at every move. A simple sign guiding you.
We would rise with the sun taking our time in the growing daylight. Making tea. Drinking coffee. Breathing. Reading. Taking a walk through the garden. Watching the horses. Letting our minds fill up with grace for the day. Beginning our walk to meditation. Entering into the sacred space. A slight breeze in the wind. A wildlife chorus. Sitting with Holly, except for one morning with Kate, we prepared our minds to receive wisdom each day. Settling our thoughts, fears, and emotions. Sitting in the light of The One practicing devotion. Three bells to begin and then three again calling us back to present attention. Full peaceful feelings as we walk back to breakfast. The consequence of sitting together in stillness. Practicing the practice with deep awareness.
One more cup of coffee or tea. A drink of water. Delicious food to eat. Prepared for the mind first then the body. Loving hands taking their time. Potatoes and carrots. Mint chutney. Watermelon divine. The beginning of a list of favorites. Oatmeal with honey. Chopped up apples crisp and crunchy. Avocado toast. So simple and full of flavor. Everything Bagel seasoning. Homemade paneer. The food itself a dedication to what is practiced there.
After that we would digest, brush our teeth, read, write, or rest before beginning again the journey down to our mats for asana practice. Kate was there to guide us each day through the movements. An offering to the body, the breath, and the mind. To open our chests and our hips, and close them again with new meaning. Taking us through the rhythms that would challenge us, enlighten us, and find the power within us. And on the last day we danced, our inner child at play. Living and dying and living again, these were how our days would transition. From one pose to another, strengthening our core and posture. First, flow. Then, power. Next, chair. Finally, multiplane -- all of it teaching us to practice yoga everywhere. In every position or shape we may find ourselves in. Michelle provided the last offering.
A few minutes stood between asana practice and philosophy. More coffee or tea. Stretching the legs. Easy moving. Sitting in the circle of wisdom and getting to the true foundations. Sacrifice and inquiry. Humble serving. Ancient stories to inspire our growth. Challenging the mind. Light energy through the spine passing through the all knowing eyes. Learning about creation and destruction. The infinite path. Divine construction. All food to be consumed without hesitation. An offering. A giving. Wisdom for the soul to overcome jealousy, fear, and the mind's ego.
Slowly, with our hearts and minds full, body sore, and strong, we would walk back to the dining hall and see what lunch had been prepared for us. Fresh salad greens. Apples in tzatziki. Chickpeas. Italian frittata. Indian curry. Toasted bread. Watermelon. Conversations around the table about our lives and what we learned. Letting it all come together.
In the afternoons, we served while the new teachers learned. Pulling grass from the garden. Picking green beans, onions, and blackberries. Flowing through the tasks. Organizing a greenhouse. More pulling grass. A ribbon snake. Garden rakes. Hands dirty. A bee sting. An ant bite. Moving the hay bales one at a time. Setting rocks for a new edge around the fire. Washing dishes. Preparing the food. These acts of serving are yoga too. Going all in for what you can give. Carrying the water. Bringing the groceries in. Whatever you could notice, you started serving.
By the evening, we were hungry. Coming together again for easy talking. River plans to make between the bites we would take. Learning to eat slowly. The best mushroom soup we ever ate. Carrot soup on the second day. Vegetable soup on the first. Salad and fruit. Keeping our stomachs light and our minds full. Every day was structured the same, but each held its own surprises and differences in its own way. Especially after dinner. The first night it was brownies and obsidian. A walk through the woods. Courtney arriving. The second night a trip to the river. Mermaid Lagoon. Washing off the sweat and grass from pulling up the Johnson grass. Followed by a charcuterie board. Borrowed mustard. Jessie sharing her sweet music. Jessica and Jason playing chess. Allen writing. Sarah remaining present. The third night we found ourselves beneath the stars. Listening to music again. Laughing. Hula hooping and headstands. Watching the sunset from Miles's front porch. Sharing the light inside us. The stories that have been guiding us from where we've been to this moment. On the last afternoon and night during our free time, we went to the river. Some of us twice. Floating on the paddleboard. Sitting by the fire. Making smores. Seeing the last of the light shining over the Buffalo River. Content and tired, yet still offering a little bit more to enjoy these moments together.
We awoke on the last morning with thunder and lightning, a storm churning like the thoughts in our minds. New discoveries and knowledge. Awareness for past lives and new beginnings. Heavy hearts with heavy minds, yet knowing we will stay connected. One more meditation. This time in the loft. Centering us before breakfast. A chickpea pancake. Seeing Holly's photos. One more asana sequence. Saying goodbye to Jessica. Laughter. Receiving medicine from healing hands. Rising again. Going into the sunlight. To sit with Krishna and feel the warmth of enlightenment. Afterward, one more walk to lunch. Allen going. Beet root and rice with barely an appetite. One or two bites and feeling full. Knowing time is passing quickly and wanting to slow down more. The teachers remaining for their graduation. The rest of us packing up, showering, and getting on the road. One more cup of tea. One more time picking blackberries. One more moment with the horses. One more hug for reassurance.
Some of us were there for the first time. Others for the second or more. Teachers in training had been there for a whole month. The same as Sarah and Allen. The rest of us were there for about five days. Giving love to the land and the space where we were residing in. Music outsides. Fireflies. Pattypan squash. Sarah's calming presence. Michelle's headstand. Jessie hula hooping. Jason getting checkmated twice, but of course it's not a competition. Jessica drinking coffee through the garden in the morning. Courtney pulling weeds beneath the sunflowers growing. Allen meditating. Phoebe laughing.
And I was there too. Sitting beneath the pear tree on the first night drawing. Feeling the energy of the land where we would be united by loving hands. The experience was healing. It was teaching. It was presence and growing. It was feeling. It was sitting in the Milky Way late into the night. It was rising with the sun's first light. Pink sunrise.
