Our first week of ‘working holiday’ in the UK past in the blink of an eye. Seeing old friends again. Picking up where we left from. Running through the green forests. Breathing in the freshest lush air of Hampshire. Teaching workshops, taking classes, plentiful inspiration. Late night glasses of wine, conversations and laughter. Overwhelmed by people’s embraces, hugs and generosity.
Reconnecting with old yogis. Sliding over the mats. Feeling blessed and blissful after many classes of diving deeper and flying higher. Now two days in London. University friends – impossible to describe the joy and sense of coming home. Hustle bustle. Little sailor girl lost in a big city’s craziness. Yoga classes left right and centre. A haven and beautiful boost and stimulation for my asana practice.
Yin Yoga with Norman aside – no-one ever stops. Not even in shavasana accompanied by loud electro beats. Following a political rant on why all other teachers and other styles of yoga are not old enough, not young enough, not this, not that… Does being an old dude with dreadlocks in thai pants give you the insight to understand what yoga really is? Or are you all just caught up in this big fat rat race called London? It’s fascinating, alive and exciting… But Londoners, I can’t stop but wonder, do you ever stop? Is 90 minutes sweaty slithering across yoga mats at breath-taking pace form one yoga pose to the next the highest state of tranquillity and peace? Can you ever be silent and face yourself? Or do you need the constant rush… In German the word progress (‘Fortschritt’) means ‘walking away from’… Are you walking away from your realy selves? From the blissful connection with the Divine only to be found in the most silent depth of your souls?
I’m loving every second of our time here. Each day’s been filled with heart-jumping highlights. At the same time, I wil be glad to be back home on Happy Dancer, head off into the wide blue and breathe in that peace and tranquillity only the ones who’ve been out at sea understand. On the inside one of the best full moons in a while. Luxurious me-time while Pablo is minding the boys in the sheltered gorgeous embrace of the lovely friends we are staying with in Winchester. Extreme cleansing through hours on end of asana and pranayama practice. Time to write. Time to gaze. Time to reflect and dream. And time to connect and reconnect with many treasured friends following a week of delicious granny time back in Malta. Time to soak in the full moon with all it endless possibilities and boundless opportunities. Tremendouly grateful. Also indrecibly excited about what’s to come. Colourfest, more friends, sailing, Crete, kasos, Karpathos, Rhodes and my yoga retreat in Turkey.