I thought that I would blog while I was in Philadelphia. I thought that I would see everyone that I longed to see. I thought that I would practice twice a day. What I failed to realize was just how busy I would actually be. It was a great trip home. I logged many hours with my favorite sister, practiced with my teacher and my yoga tribe, and had some fantastic meals with some of my favorite people. I felt at home, but at the same time I felt distance from all that was happening. Some of the distance I welcomed...yoga drama is so strange.
Now that I am back in Rhode Island I feel a little directionless. Like what is next for me. How can I continue to teach and make a living doing that? Where is my yoga home?
I am starting to put together the pieces of my Winter Solstice workshop, and while I was practicing this morning this poem flew (from God knows where) into my quiet mind.
Prelude To Winter
The moth under the eaves
with wings like
the bark of a tree, lies
And love is a curious
unmoving under the eaves
when the leaves fall.William Carlos Williams