Friday, December 17, 2010

more silent retreat

{Notes from my journal}

What a treat it is to be here. This place and this moment couldn't be any more perfect. I woke at 7:00 and till 7:30 I lay in my bed all cozy underneath the covers and watch as it grows light outside. I am reminded of how much longer it takes for the light of a new day to reach those of us nestled in the woods, in the hills. It's a familiar feeling of home.

Slowly the trees that I've become familiar with over the two days reveal themselves to me one by one. Each taking their rightful place, each owning their own space. No two are alike. Some tall, some short, old and young. I am in awe of all of you.

I get out of bed and make my way to my yoga mat for meditation. I sit at the edge of a blanket that I've brought from home. I take the afghan blanket from the bed and wrap it around my shoulders. I am delighted to see it's large enough to cover my lap. It's the small things in life, right?

I rest my hands, palms turned down on my knees. I close my eyes and count ten slow, conscious breaths. I am comforted by the sound of my inhale and exhale and the peaceful easy way of breathing this morning. I turn my awareness to my mind and begin to ask the three soul questions:

Who am I?
What do I want?
What is my purpose?

With each question I start at the surface level and slowly draw myself more inward. Today I am a part of the divine spark of life. I want to live my life with passion and purpose. My purpose is sharing my heart through the teachings of yoga and inspiring reverence for all of life. Then I let it all go.

I come to my mantra (repetition of a sanskrit phrase) and together we sit in silence for the next thirty minutes.


Gazing out the window I can't help but stare at what unfolds before me for it is the perfect play put on by mother nature herself. I just saw three deer hopping through the brush and the bramble. I wonder if it's the same three I saw yesterday grazing in front of my cabin. I think it is. The white of the snow is also making it easy for me to identify the lil creatures that would usually be blending in with the trees, shrubs, and fallen leaves on the ground. I watch the squirrels and the birds with equal delight.

I feel the simplicity, the inner contentment that comes from being here and watching the world outside. I wonder how much I miss when I'm living in my head, planning for the future, and waiting for the next "thing" to occur. For sitting here in this sweet little cabin in the woods, drinking hot tea, watching the snow fall and writing is restoring and replenishing my heart and soul in a way that's surprising to me.

Two days into silence and I'm feeling a shift. Two days ago sitting and watching how the light changes in the woods seemed like a big stretch for me. Now I can think of no other way I'd rather be spending my time.


Dr. Leigh Ann Simmons said... all feels very Thoreau like. Love it. xo

Sharon Tessandori said...

It actually felt Thoreau like. Not sure I could do it for two years, but for three days it was pretty sweet. :)