The title is a reference to a classic song. The photo courtesy to one of the weekend participants. 🙂
Waulsort. Waha. Ohain. Some of the toponyms in Wallonia sound so ancient and soft as if they came from a fantasy book by Ursula LeGuin. Waulsort is a tiny town on the left bank of the river Meuse with gorgeous villas, a tiny St. Michel’s Church, narrow stone streets and traces of the old railroad to Dinant. The opposite riverbank is steeper, cliffs and vertical rocks creating a little paradise for climbers. Parts of the hill are covered in lush woods hiding streams and trails. A bit further downstream, also on the left, is the castle Freyr worth visiting (virtual visit in the link below the article). Among other things, it shows the long history of human lust to fight, get a share, show off, present, have fun, etc. All are divers masks of a universal human need for security.
We have been coming to a house on the hill for yoga weekends since before the pandemic hit. Twice a year, in different seasons. This beginning of May welcome us in rich green tones, it is warm, in the morning, the sun pops up from behind the trees and spreads a golden hue over the roofs of the houses. A sleeve of river glistens down there, a manually operated ferry gets you across when you wish. One man has been doing the job for 11 years already; the ferry itself being in service for well more than a hundred years. The man is calm, fit, with golden hair and patiently responding to questions of curious tourists that must repeat on and on. Nevermind. He responds with in the same polite and modest tone.
Experiencing yoga in a non-rushed way. The clock on the wall always shows 30 past 10. Now. We are multilayered and complex beings, and we need a lot of patience with – ourselves. Carer, giver, teacher, lover, mother, daughter, coach, artist… the list can go on. Are these identities? Yes. And we need them to navigate the time/space reality. What is thus beyond these identities? What about those parts of us we do not dare to talk about? They keep us in silence like they had locked war and war camp survivors in the previous generations. Copying strategies, vital to survive.
Finding us in the trauma-informed era is good news. We are allowed to feel, peel off the masks, be vulnerable. This very idea often scares, brings out emotions that have stayed hidden for long, long time. Discovering the Self beyond various identities is an alchemist process of de-fragmentation and eventually, a transformation. The process itself counts; the final “product” does not exist. We are evolving, changing, co-creating and discovering ourselves.
The alchemist process has different stages, some are more active, some require fermentation and a period of seeming non-movement. There comes the magic point when a butterfly emerges from the syrupy form of a chrysalis. Delicate, wet, usure. Nothing can be rushed, yoga says. Patience. Move, breathe, observe. All parts and fragments are welcome and included. When we surrender and accept, love appears in the room. Pardoning myself for falling off the wagon here and there opens the door to compassion, joy, vulnerability and strength.
When we slowly get up from the mat, lighter with the practice, the changing light in the house is filled with new energy. Call it love, or call it potential, words are never enough to describe the experience. But then, we may listen to the words as pure vibrations and dive into deeper understanding. As we dived into the cold water of the Meuse. Water is alive, precious, a good deal of us is water, and as such, charged with information in constant move. This is the quiet language of yoga: it leads us to the elements within and beyond them – to pure potential that we are.
Thank you to all joining me in trust and cocreating the experience.
