Very excited to be a part of this flash mob! While the adults get hot and sweaty with some power yoga, I’ll be having lots of yoga fun and games with the kids. Thank goodness London has put on a brilliant day for it, so if you’re around grab your mat (and your kids) and come along!
So the yoga studio where I teach is hosting a series of budget yoga classes, taught by the recent teacher trainee graduates. As one of the chosen few, today it’s my turn to throw a bit of free love to the Lumi Power Yoga community. Here’s a little something I prepared earlier to get people in the mood…
You may be forgiven for thinking this curly-haired lass is usually seen poking out from behind the reception desk at Lumi, offering up coconut water and towels like they’re going out of fashion. And you’d be right! But Erin Dewar is abandoning her post and stepping up to the mat for today’s 2:30pm Lumi Love class, to adopt a multi-tasking role of a very different nature…
Oh boy, how much time have we got?!
I played a number of sports growing up and have been a runner for many years. There’s nothing quite like physical activity, whether playing in a team, or setting out a long, meditative run on my own. But yoga is more than just a physical practice. Yoga is like an old friend – we know each other intimately and yet there’s often times of disconnect.
It often feels like…
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A very strange thing happened today…
As I sat quietly on my usual spot, deep in meditation, I started to feel a pressure spreading through my chest. As the warmth spread through my torso, a familiarity crept in alongside. Something reminiscent of a loving hug. It melted into gentle vibrations, the deep quiet tone of the sea swimming around inside me. Out of this deep quiet tone I heard the faint call of the universe, trickling life into every cell of my body.
After a moment, it gently faded away. But floating somewhere in the distance, I was sure I heard a tiny chuckle, dancing on the breeze. I couldn’t resist. I opened my eyes, drawn forth out of my meditation in search of something…someone. But there was no one there.
A second later a flash of golden hair danced across my eyes. A toothy grin. Two big, blue eyes staring into me. Deep and knowing. Just for a moment. This meeting of souls. Pure and light.
And then she was gone.
In the same week that I stuffed my bag full of excess yoga pants, nuts and notebooks to leap into my yoga teacher training, my Mum strapped on her walking boots, her freshly pressed quick-dry man suit, adorned her rucksack and took her first steps along the 820-odd kilometres of the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage track. Talk about competition…
But as she and I kicked back over this last weekend in my hometown of London – she still many miles from our Australian home – sipping wine on the Thames, hoeing into gastronomic pub meals and sharing of our stories, I quickly realised how startlingly similar our experiences have been over the past two months.
We both climbed up to cliff tops,
We walked through fields,
We stumbled onto friendships that then themselves found secret crevices of our being to lodge in.
She met people from all walks of life – and loved them all.
I met souls and hearts and minds: I met warriors of love and of grace. I met battle-shielded knights and soldiers of gentle courage. I met wounded children and mothers and lovers. I met angels of luminous energy and light.
We laughed, we cried, we loved, we fought, we broke apart, we held our hearts up to the world and we wailed out into the deafening silence, ‘I am here!’ before planting those pounding hearts back inside our chests and taking one more step.
And just when we thought we’d gone the distance, a great mountain rose up before us. We climbed to the top and there was planted the path of forgiveness, coiling itself round and round into a point at the centre of it all.
Slowly and delicately we made our way into the heart of it. The place where we met ourselves. Where we stared straight into the centre of our universe and said, ‘It’s time to come home.’
We laid a piece of ourselves down and walked away without another word.
It seems the path we choose to take is irrelevant. So to is the destination.
It is the journey that is the thing. And may it always be full of unexpected wonder.
My declaration: I am letting go of my stories of the past and those of the future. I believe that my life is yet to be written. And so as I step into the present moment, it will be with a practice of connection, acceptance and lightness.
I will follow the path of least resistance and trust that this will lead me home.
And that is who I am.