I found this post that I had written about an early morning solo exploration I had taken when I was on a girl’s surf trip in Sayulita, Mexico. I was in search of a yoga class that was being held in a local couple’s home. She was from Cuba and he from Mexico and they were holding their yoga classes on the roof of their palapa. The price of the class was by donation only so that the locals could afford to attend:
BEGIN: Early one Sunday morning in Sayulita, Mexico I walked out my door in search of a local yoga class. As I left the tourist part of town and walked through the narrow streets of the back neighborhood, I absorbed the sounds of roosters crowing, dishes clanking and beautiful music, foreign to my ears, pouring out of the open windows where colorful pieces of cloth flowed in the warm, tropical breeze. I inhaled the breakfast smells of bacon and eggs frying, knowing that the food came from their backyard and that the pig was most likely butchered amongst the Bougainvillea and jasmine.
I restrained myself from knocking on any door to ask, in my broken Spanish, if I could perhaps just sit quietly and watch the family enjoy their day of peace and holiness.
I never did knock and I missed the class but isn’t travel all about the journey and not the destination? END
That is what traveling is for most of us. The exposure to other people and cultures and the excitement and adventure of digging deep, reaching the heart of the town, meeting the locals, finding new lands or streets or food or crafts.
So why didn’t I dig deep while in New York City at the BlogHer conference? Why did I fly all the way there to meet other bloggers and make connections and then forget my mission as soon as the music began? Why did I escape to the Wii dance stage every chance I got to bust a move to their Just Dance 2 program? Why did I spend so much time alone? Why? Why?What is wrong with me? How can I be so motivated one minute and sabotage my efforts the next. And now? I am making up for it by reading every post on BlogHer and connecting with these people from my desk, online instead of offline, and I am finding incredible people that I know I would have loved immediately. I just didn’t find them when I was there, but clearly they found each other and the small few that I did connect with, why didn’t I open up to them and say, hey, I’m all alone, could I join you? It brings back horrible memories of my clamming up in college and never finding my niche, for four years.
I guess I really am a one on one type of girl, as is revealed in my interview with Reda from North Africa. We met Reda when we got in his cab in Boston, and he allowed me to capture his great energy.
Remember Reda’s words, “Be friendly. Present yourself in your best image of yourself all the time. Be positive and be the best you can be. Do your best and hopefully everybody will be thinking the same way.”
I woke up Sunday morning in New York City after a night of singing Karoake with the National Women’s Rugby Team. The Blogging conference was over and I needed to go out and experience more of my favorite city in the world.
I lived in the city for three years and if I don’t get out of Aspen and have my fix every year I start to get the shakes. Usually I do not choose to visit in the swaltering heat of August and quite often I bring my children with me. Once, I even convinced Wade to come with me. He looked so small as he stood there in his ski coat looking around at all of the huge buildings wondering where the grass was.
But here I was alone, which wasn’t such a bad thing, and so I put on my sneakers, shorts and a t-shirt and ran through the lobby and out into the street lest I be deterred from my mission of doing what I love to do, walk forever exploring and meeting the people, soaking up all of the culture. I didn’t get very far before I reached Barney’s on 61st and Madison. I was looking in the windows when I saw in the reflection a beautiful yellow skyscape of the city and I had to turn around. “Are you the artist,” I asked and that is when I met Walford Williams.
Walford and I talked for an hour about his life in the city and his artwork and we shared our thoughts on life and love and he was a beautiful person of whom, of course, I had to interview. I was so mad that I hadn’t put my video camera in my bag but Walford agreed to letting me interview him on my iPhone. When I was finished I was sad to leave him and his artwork and so I bought one of his pieces so I can always have his energy and his talent near me as I write to all of you.
His interviews are below and I am sorry Walford, that I could not portray you without all of the noise and the bad lighting but I had to share your beautiness with my friends, good filming or not.
To see more of Walford’s creations visit his website.
Don’t forget to watch both videos and to visit Walford next time you’re in the city!
Yesterday I drove up to Aspen to take a yoga class at my favorite studio in town, King Yoga. Since quitting Bikram’s I haven’t been able to keep up my yoga routine and I miss it, the stretching, the meditation and the peace.
The classroom was overcrowded and I felt myself retreating. Ever since living in New York City I don’t do very well with crowds and I worried that this was exactly what I was not needing.
Looking over at the man next to me I asked if the studio was always that crowded on Saturday mornings. What a peaceful face he had! He looked at me with his soft, warm, brown eyes and beautiful silky silver hair wrapped up in a ponytail with loose strands falling out of his elastic and said, “It’s just grisel for the mist.” I had no idea what he was talking about but I trusted that what he meant was that it was all going to be okay, then in walked Simon Park, a guest teacher. I was mesmerized. He was a beautiful, peaceful man, radiating light. In the beginning of class he lead us through eight Oms. I have practiced this exercise many times in a class but this was different. I got the chills as the vibration of the class enveloped me and then tears started flowing. Whether it was residue from my cleansing or Simon’s energy or the sadness that I had been experiencing from many of my friends and their struggles or whether it was my own sadness or complete happiness, I couldn’t place it but there is was and it wouldn’t stop.
After an hour and a half of thumping around my mat while watching a true yogi flow effortlessly into the most beautiful postures we lay down and relaxed into Shavasana. Simon brought us out of our meditation and while he said his words of peace and thanks I began to silently cry again and had to bow my head for he was sitting directly in front of me and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.
After class I waited for everybody to leave so that I could introduce myself. “I know that this sounds crazy but I have my video camera in the car and I would love to interview you and tap into your incredible energy,” I said and surprisingly he agreed to five minutes of my time before he went off to play in the mountains with a friend.
Simon didn’t say much but what he did say was so simply profound. If we could all live with a little more light, yoga, mediation, caring and love for each other the world would be a much better place to live in, “It’s easy!”
What is wrong with me? How can I be so motivated one minute and sabotage my efforts the next. And now? I am making up for it by reading every post on BlogHer and connecting with these people from my desk, online instead of offline, and I am finding incredible people that I know I would have loved immediately. I just didn’t find them when I was there, but clearly they found each other and the small few that I did connect with, why didn’t I open up to them and say, hey, I’m all alone, could I join you? It brings back horrible memories of my clamming up in college and never finding my niche, for four years.
