As my last class lay in their final Savasana, observing their still bodies, my heart smiles with appreciation for encountering these people. Folks who follow my classes with their scheduled activities and what-nots, running from one resort to another to settle in yoga. Hotel staff who join in when they find some poses they feel will help them in their long hours here…
And when we sat to take our breaths together, I chant to them the inhales and exhales, their spirits imbedded in my memory, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for sharing this experience with them.
We travel not to escape life, but so life doesn’t escape us.
It is never about finding a comfortable place to be in, isn’t it?
As much as I can practice and teach anywhere, I can as much live life anywhere.
There is the tugging I feel in my heart. Partly in knowing I leave behind these experiences, these people who took time to be with me, whether in yoga, or in playing, or in some loud laughing of anything we talk about… and partly in feeling – this is the first of other more traveling to come. That is the strongest tugging of all.
I once was a tourist.
I have become a traveler.