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Full Moon Love

image

Today is Valentines Day, not a day I usually fuss over, but today’s February 14th falls on a full moon.

I love the moon. I love love love the moon.

I talk to her, I say hello when I glimpse a gleaming shard or big heavy orb upon high. I’m obsessed with taking photos of the moon. When full, I sleep with all the blinds open, so I can bathe in her light. Even with my mind off my calendar, I often feel before I see her. I am a water sign, so maybe I feel her pull more than most.

Ever present, a companion as a child, consequently I was never afraid of the dark. I’d watch from the car window, worrying when she disappeared behind a house or tree on night time drives home from my Grandparents house, I thought she was following me and would get lost.

I call the Moon her, as to me she represents the feminine aspect through her cycle. Throughout history and different traditions, always “her”. The Goddess. Sometimes referred to as The Lady, or the youthful greek Artemis or roman Diana in the beginning, Cerridwen (celtic), Mother in her fullness and Hecate in the dark. Looking up I totally get why our ancestors worshipped her, mesmerising, quickening my heart and grounding me in wildness all at once. I am sooooo not allowed to drive during a full moon, for fear of distraction along with the rest, see next point.

Traditionally the practice of yoga is made a rest day on the new or full moon, this is more in line with the Ashtanga tradition from which I am lapsed, but still something I observe…kinda. There are many interpretations as to why we do this and I offer you to pick your favourite. If I am teaching or indulging with a sneaky practice of my own on the new or full days, I will always tone it down and offer myself and my students more rest time.

More than anything the moon provides for me a point of focus in this fast turning modern world. It allows me to come back and refocus whether new or full, twice a month I get to stop and  think about what I’m actually doing, where I’m headed or what needs a focus right now and I intent according to the phase.

So tonight I ask myself what needs a focus? And what simpler answer could there be than love (and a good ol’ howl!).
*photo is one of mine. I have no idea from when, there are too many.

Brighid is my homegirl

image

Today is lunar Imbolc. The new moon closest to the celebration of the awakening of the Spring! We are very definitely still in Winter, yes most definitely, though we have been lacking in snow and even ice this season, but there is a shift. I can feel a stirring…

Yule and New Year passed in a bit of a blur for me, I experienced some loss in my family, but I now move forward with them in my heart. 

Imbolc (pronounced emolk or sometimes Imbolg, the jury is out, whatever the ‘b’ is always silent) is the Sabbat celebrated around a bouts 2nd Feb, and it is where we celebrate not only the start of Spring, but also honour the Goddess Brighid or Bride as she is sometimes known.

Now I love a goddess. I’m usually drawn to the more kick ass feminine expressions like Kali or Artemis, they resonant with my inner rebel! Brigid or Bride is more chilled, but quietly confident and wielding of fire in her belly. I still don’t think you would want to get on the wrong side of her. As I mature my association with these gals changes, Brighid is also the goddess of the hearth and home and this is something very much on my mind of late and in that I am drawn to her. She is the expression of the feminine in her maiden aspect; new beginnings and is pure potential.

She is also the goddess of healing and oh my, could I use some healing and new beginnings right about now. It is one of the fire festivals and I am in need of a spark in the dark to conquer my grief of the last few weeks. It is the perfect time to cast off that which no longer serves me, as there is an element of purification within this time, so I after cleaning the shit of out my flat, I light the candles tonight and I make a resolution to release from tired holding patterns of thought or of body and I will roll out my mat a fresh tomorrow and move forward, burning some rosemary oil with a practice that incorporates some heat, rising energy and healing, in order to make some space for something new to potentially grow.

Wow, would ya look at that? 100 Posts. Feeling a small bit proud of myself. 

Wow, would ya look at that? 100 Posts. Feeling a small bit proud of myself. 

(Source: assets)

Go with the slow

image

So we are in the first days of Yule, working our way back towards the light. Things at this time of year inevitably tend to increase in speed as we career towards the 25th (or 21st if you are like me) but every fibre of my being is screaming… SLOW DOWN!

The lack of light outside, the low light inside, the dormancy in nature, the cold… We are mammals after all, I all too often joke about my cave at this time of year. It’s almost as we are being called inside by the big Momma herself.

For me, intuitively it is a time to restore, to reflect and eventually return (to the light). This is not to say no fun or frolics! Who could imagine a more delightful thing that in the darkest depths of winter, preparing for a feast to share with friends and family, sparkles, glitter and the offering gifts to lighten dark faces.  

So for the next four weeks, I offer you a challenge.

Slow for Yule!

Each time you find yourself increasing in speed and tipping your edge towards mania out in Oxford St, in the stores or out in the aisle of the supermarket. Stop. Feel your feet where you stand, take a breath in and out and the next step forward slower than the one before.

For the next few weeks we’ll also be working with these themes in class. Not to say there will be no sparkle, heat or disco moves to lighten the dark. But i’ll invite you always to find yourself in a place to restore, to reflect and finally return in rest.

The same rules apply, if you feel yourself tipping towards the rush and mania. Pause, slow, feel your feet and a breath in, a breath out. Finding sthira. The sanskrit word for steady, I guess would be a good translation, but it also means so much more than that. It means engagement, focus, maybe even effort. But effort with the aggro! The polar opposite of this is sukha, the ease; comfort and joy indeed. Working with both aspects, always and it is in this polarity we find our truth. 

So join me. 21 days of Slow for Yule. You’ll be glad you did.

Peace out.

Transformative

image

So, the sun sets on another wonderful escape in the wilds of Suffolk.
The last retreat for this year… As I roll the mats away for the last time, my mind turns with the wheel of the year. Getting ready for the  long sleep.

I have so enjoyed every minute of your company this year, we did a lot! Whether it was in the water astride a board, on the mat, foraging around in the undergrowth at midsummer, crafting at the table with herbs, sharing stories, knitting, stitching or stuffing our faces with cake. This time we take away from the grind can be transformative for all of us. I have seen more stars this year than I would have done in the bright city lights, in the deep dark quiet, out in nature I get to sink my roots in to those things that make me tick and fire up my joy circuits. I believe in this stuff. In the activities we engage in on retreat. They aren’t some clever afterthought, some sugar sprinkles to pour over your yoga practice to sweeten it up and entice you to part with cash. 

Seeing the difference in you guys pre and post retreat makes me full. It reminds me that this is the reason I do this, all of it. So, thank you all, for joining us this weekend and on all those prior. Until next year…

Blessed Be.

Right, I’m off to my East London cave to hibernate.

Peace out.

Aim True

I am so tired. I have literally dragged my ass in to each of the classes I teach this week, I am there, trust me, I am there, but everything that surrounds the hour or 90 mins that I am with you feels like sleepwalking.

I am in need of an epic rest, this summer has been busy, I’ve worked a lot, for whatever reason I have taken no proper break for about a year. Not good people, not good. My mat time has again dwindled to a couple of postures and a lot of pranayama and savasana, I have reached empty on the fuel gauge. 

After teaching my last class on Weds evening, I came home and just cried with tiredness, exhausted, I could feel illness nipping my toes, I didn’t want to eat, I just wanted to sleep for a really long time.

Yesterday, I had a workshop booked with the American teacher Kathryn Budig, it was called Aim True, I had no idea what we were going to do, I know this gal is a fan of the upside down and I quaked at this thought. 

The first hour, we talked and journaled, Kathryn told her story, but reminded us that they were also ours. She spoke of the origin of Aim True and Artemis. To be honest, she had me at Artemis…

Artemis; the moon, goddess of the hunt, wild animals and the protector of women.

We were then asked to list our qualities, those we bring to the world (without cringing) and what aim true meant to us. I paused. Empty. Nothing… Then I remembered… When I teach, I talk often of the pause in the practice, the space between each breath… is temporary, but in that space, that stillness I remember. In massive capital letters across the page of my notebook I scrawled

R E M E M B E R

I remembered the feeling of my hands on the mat, why I love my job, my practice, my body, my partner, my life. I also have a piece of writing that speaks to me, it’s by Linda Hogan (no, not the wife of wrestler Hulk), she’s a native american writer, It says…

image

All too often I forget how much I am loved (or can love), I too often think I alone in all this and am led by my fear. But if I just stop, silent in the pause and remember. I can align with my mark.

After the first few rounds of Surya Namaskar Kathryn led us through I could feel my body remembering, the breath, the heat the movement. By the time it came to standing on my hands, I was strong, I remembered how freakin’ strong my body actually is and how much I love that. I remembered that I am the fabric and texture of the love of thousands. I glided up and admittedly, my first descent down resulted in some pretty busted up toes, but I went again and again, after a few adjusts I gilded up and floated down finding my mark, hovering in chaturanga just above the floor. A smile on my face and in love.

When I returned home I tweeted this. 

Handstand drop to Chaturanga. I own you.

And in that I remembered, I own love.

So, thank you Kathryn, for holding a space to allow me to remember. I now leave for my rest. I am going ‘home’ to the sea, to family, to yoga, to rest, to love. See you on the other side.

 

Just this today and everyday…

Last week sometime I reposted this amazing article and ended up have some very honest conversations as a result of it. Conversations with my students, friends and myself.  

I have had this conversation for years… 

My asana practice has always flitted between heavy, hardcore commitment, going as far as I can go, expressions of delight in my strong and agile body to quaking, shaking mess. My body rigid, reluctant to move, reluctant to feel. A story to big for one meagre blog post. But in this polarity I find truth. 

Today I found this Rumi verse via the poet Warsan Shire and I use it. As a voice to shout out in to the dark, though the shafts of light, through supple, through rigid. COME.

        image   

Find Truth. Whether that is in darkness, in light, in rigid, in supple.

I all too often beat myself up for not rising with the dawn and rolling out my mat. But in the words of David Sye “I just don’t want to get up at 4am, unless I’m delivering milk”. Truth. I chide myself for not writing enough, loving enough, being enough…  But I will come, over and over again.

See you there. 

Ending

Beginning at the end this week, something I really loved came to an end recently, it was upsetting. In this thing, I’d found some lovely people, that I will take with me, even though the space we share is finished.  

From this episode, I realise I am not done learning… yes, again.

I’m a worrier, I fret, I’m anxious by nature, I work extremely hard not to be this way, my yoga, yes, this is key to its regulation, a faith too, water and writing yes. Some very good friends and hanging with the familiars. 

After hearing this news, I fully expect to descend in to panic over this change in my circumstance. I stop, mid climb of the stairs leading upwards to my flat after hearing the news and I am suddenly possessed by such an urgency of feeling, so unfamiliar in this scenario that it literally stops me in my tracks.

"This is fucking great"

Really, really great, because out of it something new will grow and I am terribly excited about that. To be moving forward.

I teach every week in class, that our bodies have habitual leanings towards tension, we have habitual leanings towards movement, so yes, you’ve guessed it, we also have habitual leaning towards… well in my case doom and gloom… But I realised climbing those stairs, that no, this time. It doesn’t have to end this way.

I break from this pattern of movement. The same way I break the pattern of my excessive lumbar curve brings, because of my hyper-mobility, strengthening what is weakened (my rectus abdominus FYI) and releasing that which is tight and restrictive.

Because who the hell, can separate their body from their mind, from their vitality and energy, who the hell wants too?  My reactionary feelings of panic, fear and anxiety are vestiges of a time passed, so I jump the last two steps, I strengthen, I move forwards, away from habit and restriction and walk through the door.

       

She belived she could…

Every night since Saturday my dinner has been made up of a glorious palette of colorful vegetables grown by one of my best friends Kate. I’ve made pesto, I’ve had curries, salads, roast vegetable orzo. I’ve also been eating it raw by handfuls straight from the fridge. Every time I cut, chop, steam, saute and eat my heart sings, not only is it delicious, but I am so incredibly proud of her. 

      image

She and a bunch of other like minded, brave souls, headed for Devon in January and moved into farm, that they have resurrected. Most recently establishing a market garden, growing and selling produce to the local area.

I visited 6 weeks ago and found myself there again last week and the transformation our incredible weather and their sheer hard graft in this time has exploded the site in to the most amazing growth of colour and smells. Squash, chard, basil, beets, potatoes, beautiful edible flowers, cucumbers, oh the cucumbers. All of these things the physical manifestation of a dream, a dream that they could… She is an inspiration to me and this is my song to her. 

       image

I slept the night out in her caravan in the woods and I slept heavy and deep, a silent lullaby sung from the fields, the soft hum of the earth bubbling with life, magic and intent.  

You can read more about their Farm, Whippletree here www.whippletreefarm.co.uk and if you are ever in the area, pay them a visit. 

      image       

      This is Kate, she is great. x

Outside

I’ve been away from the blog recently. In truth, I never speak on here unless I actually have something to say, so maybe I’ve just not wanted to clutter the airwaves with unnecessary ramble, as someone reminded me today that words have vibration; power, energy and meaning. So, with this return to words I’ve been looking at simplicity.

The older I get *ahem*, I find myself stripping back what I think I know, about myself, my yoga practice and my teaching, and it gets simpler… as I gain more knowledge…weird. Wading through the murk of a million voices. When it speaks to me with clarity and I find space and stillness, I know I’m on to a winner.

It’s so freakin’ hot right now. I’m reluctant to work, I daydream… I think back to simple summers when I was a kid. Outside, always outside. Digging my school shoe heels in to hot tar, the glee found in water fights in high summer heat and the magic found in the cool shadows of the forest opposite my house. So, you can imagine no words inspired more joy in me than those uttered by my primary school teacher one hot July afternoon.

"Lets work outside today"

So, I propose just that. I haven’t been able to teach my outdoor yoga classes this year,  so lets take a Sunday afternoon, tread the hot tar to up to Hollow Ponds, we’ll find a space by the water, over on the flats, shaded by oak and we’ll roll out mats, towels and blankets. A free pop up group yoga class, come alone, come together, bring kids, bring partners, bring veggie food to share. A potluck picnic to follow. How does Sunday 11th August sound, we’ll meet at midday, by the boating shed.

See you outside. 

Hayley x

       image

Full Moon Love

image

Today is Valentines Day, not a day I usually fuss over, but today’s February 14th falls on a full moon.

I love the moon. I love love love the moon.

I talk to her, I say hello when I glimpse a gleaming shard or big heavy orb upon high. I’m obsessed with taking photos of the moon. When full, I sleep with all the blinds open, so I can bathe in her light. Even with my mind off my calendar, I often feel before I see her. I am a water sign, so maybe I feel her pull more than most.

Ever present, a companion as a child, consequently I was never afraid of the dark. I’d watch from the car window, worrying when she disappeared behind a house or tree on night time drives home from my Grandparents house, I thought she was following me and would get lost.

I call the Moon her, as to me she represents the feminine aspect through her cycle. Throughout history and different traditions, always “her”. The Goddess. Sometimes referred to as The Lady, or the youthful greek Artemis or roman Diana in the beginning, Cerridwen (celtic), Mother in her fullness and Hecate in the dark. Looking up I totally get why our ancestors worshipped her, mesmerising, quickening my heart and grounding me in wildness all at once. I am sooooo not allowed to drive during a full moon, for fear of distraction along with the rest, see next point.

Traditionally the practice of yoga is made a rest day on the new or full moon, this is more in line with the Ashtanga tradition from which I am lapsed, but still something I observe…kinda. There are many interpretations as to why we do this and I offer you to pick your favourite. If I am teaching or indulging with a sneaky practice of my own on the new or full days, I will always tone it down and offer myself and my students more rest time.

More than anything the moon provides for me a point of focus in this fast turning modern world. It allows me to come back and refocus whether new or full, twice a month I get to stop and  think about what I’m actually doing, where I’m headed or what needs a focus right now and I intent according to the phase.

So tonight I ask myself what needs a focus? And what simpler answer could there be than love (and a good ol’ howl!).
*photo is one of mine. I have no idea from when, there are too many.

Brighid is my homegirl

image

Today is lunar Imbolc. The new moon closest to the celebration of the awakening of the Spring! We are very definitely still in Winter, yes most definitely, though we have been lacking in snow and even ice this season, but there is a shift. I can feel a stirring…

Yule and New Year passed in a bit of a blur for me, I experienced some loss in my family, but I now move forward with them in my heart. 

Imbolc (pronounced emolk or sometimes Imbolg, the jury is out, whatever the ‘b’ is always silent) is the Sabbat celebrated around a bouts 2nd Feb, and it is where we celebrate not only the start of Spring, but also honour the Goddess Brighid or Bride as she is sometimes known.

Now I love a goddess. I’m usually drawn to the more kick ass feminine expressions like Kali or Artemis, they resonant with my inner rebel! Brigid or Bride is more chilled, but quietly confident and wielding of fire in her belly. I still don’t think you would want to get on the wrong side of her. As I mature my association with these gals changes, Brighid is also the goddess of the hearth and home and this is something very much on my mind of late and in that I am drawn to her. She is the expression of the feminine in her maiden aspect; new beginnings and is pure potential.

She is also the goddess of healing and oh my, could I use some healing and new beginnings right about now. It is one of the fire festivals and I am in need of a spark in the dark to conquer my grief of the last few weeks. It is the perfect time to cast off that which no longer serves me, as there is an element of purification within this time, so I after cleaning the shit of out my flat, I light the candles tonight and I make a resolution to release from tired holding patterns of thought or of body and I will roll out my mat a fresh tomorrow and move forward, burning some rosemary oil with a practice that incorporates some heat, rising energy and healing, in order to make some space for something new to potentially grow.

Wow, would ya look at that? 100 Posts. Feeling a small bit proud of myself. 

Wow, would ya look at that? 100 Posts. Feeling a small bit proud of myself. 

(Source: assets)

Go with the slow

image

So we are in the first days of Yule, working our way back towards the light. Things at this time of year inevitably tend to increase in speed as we career towards the 25th (or 21st if you are like me) but every fibre of my being is screaming… SLOW DOWN!

The lack of light outside, the low light inside, the dormancy in nature, the cold… We are mammals after all, I all too often joke about my cave at this time of year. It’s almost as we are being called inside by the big Momma herself.

For me, intuitively it is a time to restore, to reflect and eventually return (to the light). This is not to say no fun or frolics! Who could imagine a more delightful thing that in the darkest depths of winter, preparing for a feast to share with friends and family, sparkles, glitter and the offering gifts to lighten dark faces.  

So for the next four weeks, I offer you a challenge.

Slow for Yule!

Each time you find yourself increasing in speed and tipping your edge towards mania out in Oxford St, in the stores or out in the aisle of the supermarket. Stop. Feel your feet where you stand, take a breath in and out and the next step forward slower than the one before.

For the next few weeks we’ll also be working with these themes in class. Not to say there will be no sparkle, heat or disco moves to lighten the dark. But i’ll invite you always to find yourself in a place to restore, to reflect and finally return in rest.

The same rules apply, if you feel yourself tipping towards the rush and mania. Pause, slow, feel your feet and a breath in, a breath out. Finding sthira. The sanskrit word for steady, I guess would be a good translation, but it also means so much more than that. It means engagement, focus, maybe even effort. But effort with the aggro! The polar opposite of this is sukha, the ease; comfort and joy indeed. Working with both aspects, always and it is in this polarity we find our truth. 

So join me. 21 days of Slow for Yule. You’ll be glad you did.

Peace out.

Transformative

image

So, the sun sets on another wonderful escape in the wilds of Suffolk.
The last retreat for this year… As I roll the mats away for the last time, my mind turns with the wheel of the year. Getting ready for the  long sleep.

I have so enjoyed every minute of your company this year, we did a lot! Whether it was in the water astride a board, on the mat, foraging around in the undergrowth at midsummer, crafting at the table with herbs, sharing stories, knitting, stitching or stuffing our faces with cake. This time we take away from the grind can be transformative for all of us. I have seen more stars this year than I would have done in the bright city lights, in the deep dark quiet, out in nature I get to sink my roots in to those things that make me tick and fire up my joy circuits. I believe in this stuff. In the activities we engage in on retreat. They aren’t some clever afterthought, some sugar sprinkles to pour over your yoga practice to sweeten it up and entice you to part with cash. 

Seeing the difference in you guys pre and post retreat makes me full. It reminds me that this is the reason I do this, all of it. So, thank you all, for joining us this weekend and on all those prior. Until next year…

Blessed Be.

Right, I’m off to my East London cave to hibernate.

Peace out.

Aim True

I am so tired. I have literally dragged my ass in to each of the classes I teach this week, I am there, trust me, I am there, but everything that surrounds the hour or 90 mins that I am with you feels like sleepwalking.

I am in need of an epic rest, this summer has been busy, I’ve worked a lot, for whatever reason I have taken no proper break for about a year. Not good people, not good. My mat time has again dwindled to a couple of postures and a lot of pranayama and savasana, I have reached empty on the fuel gauge. 

After teaching my last class on Weds evening, I came home and just cried with tiredness, exhausted, I could feel illness nipping my toes, I didn’t want to eat, I just wanted to sleep for a really long time.

Yesterday, I had a workshop booked with the American teacher Kathryn Budig, it was called Aim True, I had no idea what we were going to do, I know this gal is a fan of the upside down and I quaked at this thought. 

The first hour, we talked and journaled, Kathryn told her story, but reminded us that they were also ours. She spoke of the origin of Aim True and Artemis. To be honest, she had me at Artemis…

Artemis; the moon, goddess of the hunt, wild animals and the protector of women.

We were then asked to list our qualities, those we bring to the world (without cringing) and what aim true meant to us. I paused. Empty. Nothing… Then I remembered… When I teach, I talk often of the pause in the practice, the space between each breath… is temporary, but in that space, that stillness I remember. In massive capital letters across the page of my notebook I scrawled

R E M E M B E R

I remembered the feeling of my hands on the mat, why I love my job, my practice, my body, my partner, my life. I also have a piece of writing that speaks to me, it’s by Linda Hogan (no, not the wife of wrestler Hulk), she’s a native american writer, It says…

image

All too often I forget how much I am loved (or can love), I too often think I alone in all this and am led by my fear. But if I just stop, silent in the pause and remember. I can align with my mark.

After the first few rounds of Surya Namaskar Kathryn led us through I could feel my body remembering, the breath, the heat the movement. By the time it came to standing on my hands, I was strong, I remembered how freakin’ strong my body actually is and how much I love that. I remembered that I am the fabric and texture of the love of thousands. I glided up and admittedly, my first descent down resulted in some pretty busted up toes, but I went again and again, after a few adjusts I gilded up and floated down finding my mark, hovering in chaturanga just above the floor. A smile on my face and in love.

When I returned home I tweeted this. 

Handstand drop to Chaturanga. I own you.

And in that I remembered, I own love.

So, thank you Kathryn, for holding a space to allow me to remember. I now leave for my rest. I am going ‘home’ to the sea, to family, to yoga, to rest, to love. See you on the other side.

 

Just this today and everyday…

Last week sometime I reposted this amazing article and ended up have some very honest conversations as a result of it. Conversations with my students, friends and myself.  

I have had this conversation for years… 

My asana practice has always flitted between heavy, hardcore commitment, going as far as I can go, expressions of delight in my strong and agile body to quaking, shaking mess. My body rigid, reluctant to move, reluctant to feel. A story to big for one meagre blog post. But in this polarity I find truth. 

Today I found this Rumi verse via the poet Warsan Shire and I use it. As a voice to shout out in to the dark, though the shafts of light, through supple, through rigid. COME.

        image   

Find Truth. Whether that is in darkness, in light, in rigid, in supple.

I all too often beat myself up for not rising with the dawn and rolling out my mat. But in the words of David Sye “I just don’t want to get up at 4am, unless I’m delivering milk”. Truth. I chide myself for not writing enough, loving enough, being enough…  But I will come, over and over again.

See you there. 

Ending

Beginning at the end this week, something I really loved came to an end recently, it was upsetting. In this thing, I’d found some lovely people, that I will take with me, even though the space we share is finished.  

From this episode, I realise I am not done learning… yes, again.

I’m a worrier, I fret, I’m anxious by nature, I work extremely hard not to be this way, my yoga, yes, this is key to its regulation, a faith too, water and writing yes. Some very good friends and hanging with the familiars. 

After hearing this news, I fully expect to descend in to panic over this change in my circumstance. I stop, mid climb of the stairs leading upwards to my flat after hearing the news and I am suddenly possessed by such an urgency of feeling, so unfamiliar in this scenario that it literally stops me in my tracks.

"This is fucking great"

Really, really great, because out of it something new will grow and I am terribly excited about that. To be moving forward.

I teach every week in class, that our bodies have habitual leanings towards tension, we have habitual leanings towards movement, so yes, you’ve guessed it, we also have habitual leaning towards… well in my case doom and gloom… But I realised climbing those stairs, that no, this time. It doesn’t have to end this way.

I break from this pattern of movement. The same way I break the pattern of my excessive lumbar curve brings, because of my hyper-mobility, strengthening what is weakened (my rectus abdominus FYI) and releasing that which is tight and restrictive.

Because who the hell, can separate their body from their mind, from their vitality and energy, who the hell wants too?  My reactionary feelings of panic, fear and anxiety are vestiges of a time passed, so I jump the last two steps, I strengthen, I move forwards, away from habit and restriction and walk through the door.

       

She belived she could…

Every night since Saturday my dinner has been made up of a glorious palette of colorful vegetables grown by one of my best friends Kate. I’ve made pesto, I’ve had curries, salads, roast vegetable orzo. I’ve also been eating it raw by handfuls straight from the fridge. Every time I cut, chop, steam, saute and eat my heart sings, not only is it delicious, but I am so incredibly proud of her. 

      image

She and a bunch of other like minded, brave souls, headed for Devon in January and moved into farm, that they have resurrected. Most recently establishing a market garden, growing and selling produce to the local area.

I visited 6 weeks ago and found myself there again last week and the transformation our incredible weather and their sheer hard graft in this time has exploded the site in to the most amazing growth of colour and smells. Squash, chard, basil, beets, potatoes, beautiful edible flowers, cucumbers, oh the cucumbers. All of these things the physical manifestation of a dream, a dream that they could… She is an inspiration to me and this is my song to her. 

       image

I slept the night out in her caravan in the woods and I slept heavy and deep, a silent lullaby sung from the fields, the soft hum of the earth bubbling with life, magic and intent.  

You can read more about their Farm, Whippletree here www.whippletreefarm.co.uk and if you are ever in the area, pay them a visit. 

      image       

      This is Kate, she is great. x

Outside

I’ve been away from the blog recently. In truth, I never speak on here unless I actually have something to say, so maybe I’ve just not wanted to clutter the airwaves with unnecessary ramble, as someone reminded me today that words have vibration; power, energy and meaning. So, with this return to words I’ve been looking at simplicity.

The older I get *ahem*, I find myself stripping back what I think I know, about myself, my yoga practice and my teaching, and it gets simpler… as I gain more knowledge…weird. Wading through the murk of a million voices. When it speaks to me with clarity and I find space and stillness, I know I’m on to a winner.

It’s so freakin’ hot right now. I’m reluctant to work, I daydream… I think back to simple summers when I was a kid. Outside, always outside. Digging my school shoe heels in to hot tar, the glee found in water fights in high summer heat and the magic found in the cool shadows of the forest opposite my house. So, you can imagine no words inspired more joy in me than those uttered by my primary school teacher one hot July afternoon.

"Lets work outside today"

So, I propose just that. I haven’t been able to teach my outdoor yoga classes this year,  so lets take a Sunday afternoon, tread the hot tar to up to Hollow Ponds, we’ll find a space by the water, over on the flats, shaded by oak and we’ll roll out mats, towels and blankets. A free pop up group yoga class, come alone, come together, bring kids, bring partners, bring veggie food to share. A potluck picnic to follow. How does Sunday 11th August sound, we’ll meet at midday, by the boating shed.

See you outside. 

Hayley x

       image

Full Moon Love
Brighid is my homegirl
Go with the slow
Transformative
Aim True
Just this today and everyday…
Ending
She belived she could…
Outside

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A small blog to share.

Share • noun 1 a part of a larger amount, which is divided among or contributed by a number of people

For the longest time, I have tried to compartmentalise my life, it didn’t work. There is no such thing as work/life balance, there is just life, a full life. So here it is in all it’s beautiful messy glory. Committed in, well not quite ink. With a quest to learn from life’s lessons, seeing the good, accepting the shadows and letting the creative spirit flow. My yoga practice guides me in this, sometimes ass kicking, sometimes soothing, but always soul shaking. I’m not just talking rocking up on my mat twice a week, but yoga in a commitment to imbue my life with the good stuff from every angle. Ready? Well then let's go!

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