The truth is, you don’t need to be able to wrap your legs both behind your head and balance on your hands to go to a yoga retreat. I found that all you have to do is sign up, show up and be authentic.
Six months ago, my close friend Heidi and I signed up for the Spring Renewal Yoga and Meditation Retreat in Britenbush, Oregon. This would be my first trip to Britenbush, and our retreat coincided with an all women’s week. No men on premises. I escaped attending Catholic School for Girls, so this was my first experience surrounded by only women. All the faces I passed and smiled at were women. I shared every meal with women, I soaked in hot tubs with women, and the dynamic was incredible. There was no competition. I noticed that none of us wore make up. We came to breakfast in our pajamas, we came to yoga class with fuzzy bed heads. No one acted out or created drama for attention. There were no class clowns. In this environment we could show up as we were and be comfortable with that.
Britenbush itself is an amazing complex. 45 cabins and five main buildings are run on the same amount of electricity as it takes to run three homes in a city. There is no cell phone service or internet and there are no T.Vs. The seven hot springs tubs and pools do not smell like eggs and are clean of debris. The cabins are small and simple with comfortable beds and tin roofs. Hot water is channeled from a tapped geyser through all the buildings in refurbished antique radiators creating cozy heat. The employees who keep Britenbush running are open, creative, conscious individuals who are more of community members than coworkers. I felt right at home in this remote natural setting.
Heidi and I arrived in a blizzard, and the snow continued to accumulate over the next three days. We woke up early, and tromped through the snow to meditation class in a circular building down by the Britenbush river. It was dark, but somehow the snow illuminated our way. Fresh tracks crossed the path several times: deer on their way to the river, a raven proving he doesn’t really have to fly and can stroll proudly along, his tail feathers leaving lines in the new snow. We passed the path to the hot tubs, hidden in snow. The lack of bootprints told us noone was up for an early morning soak yet. But curious tracks headed towards the hot pools: tiny hand prints, with bigger back feet. A raccoon headed to the tubs to wash something, or boil an egg for breakfast.
I have been instructed on how to sit and meditate several times in my life. But I have never been able to master it for it’s a challenge for me to sit up without support -my low back usually hurts or my shoulders ache after just a few moments. But as our graceful instructor, Shannon McCall explained how to align our pelvis so we could relax our legs into the floor and be heavy from the bellybutton down, I was suddenly able to stack my spine and sit without the distraction of a painful body. I quieted my mind and was able to sit fully present, in my body, completely relaxed and without thought.
Five hours of yoga a day and I still was not as sore as I had thought I would be. We kept moving, soaked in the tubs and ate regular meals after each practice. The very first class, I had to make the decision to keep my mind on my own yoga mat. Not wandering over to see how Heidi was doing, or wondering how the woman in front of me could extend her leg that high and still breathe. I accepted the fact that I cannot bend over and touch my toes. So what? I love yoga, I feel good when I am doing it. My pose may look different from the instructor’s version of the pose, but its still yoga in my own practice. I choose to honor my heart by being there, and honor my body by not pushing and going too far, sacrificing it for the glory of the pose.
I am still a yogi even if I cannot touch my toes yet. Paying attention to my body and my breath, I move into a pose and stretch until I reach the edge, the limit of how far I can go without pain. That edge will change over time as I can stretch farther and farther. But I am okay with being where I am now. I won’t wait to love myself until I can touch my toes. Just as a medical student doesn’t wait to accept themselves until they become a doctor. If you can love yourself when you are working towards something and when you have achieved it, love yourself every step of the journey, you can fully live in every step.
During a break between classes, Heidi took a nap and I decided to go out into the snowstorm and explore. I wandered down a path I had never taken before and ended up in what is considered Sacred space at Britenbush. The tubs along this path are more natural, built with smooth river rocks. I found a steaming pool up against the hillside overlooking a little meadow. Beyond the meadow, the earth drops down to the river, with a line of tall fir trees beyond with a mountain behind them. I was blessed with solitude and had the pool all to myself. I lay back and floated in the 106 degree water, watching the slow heavy snowflakes drift down and settle in cool circles on my forehead, my lips, my palms. An orange willow tree reached over me, laden with the weight of winter. A group of pigeons flew over - their wings arched back behind them, their hearts open and pushed forward. Before this I never noticed how pigeons fly as though they are led by their hearts. The act itself is a physical representation of trust as they follow their heart; gliding through the air, completely open to love, relaxing in the flow of life.
There really is no sense in waiting to do the things you was to do. You don’t have to be the best, the fastest, the strongest or the most flexible. You just have to show up and be authentic. When you are connected to who you really are, you have a greater chance of connecting with others.
If we wait to be better than we are now, opportunities for things we want will continue to pass us by. When we are convincing ourselves we need a different set of circumstances in order to have what we want, we are not fully accepting who we are in this moment. The truth is, you are always capable of having what you want.
If I waited until I could touch my toes in a forward bend to do a yoga retreat, I would have missed out on this wonderful week of friendship, relaxation and renewal. Truth is, you just have to go for it. Don’t wait. Live now, the toes will come later.
