The storm's a brewin', or maybe not.

Well, it's been awhile but I'm back.

There has been a lot rocking and rolling within my yoga community. It’s been a stellar opportunity to look back at experiences and knowledge I gleaned from that chapter of my yoga path. It has been a time of looking again at my beliefs of how I see the world working and checking into myself to see if those beliefs still ring true from where I sit today.

I think that my yoga method spent a lot of time talking about the "sunshine days" of life. In fact for a while I held the belief along with most of my yoga comrades that the_sunshine_was_our_essence. Here of course, I am identifying "sunshine" as this overarching "good" within us and all around. From where I sit today, I'm not so sure.

So one night I started relating my experiences within the past year to the weather I see when I am in the ocean surfing or paddling. I have seen it all. Days that take your breath away with warm, humid air, not a whisper of breeze and the crimson sun about to splash into the great big blue. The sunshine day. Other times, it’s been anything but. 15 footers that want to nail you to the bottom of the ocean. Days where the current and chop make you feel like an ant in the swirl of a toilet bowl. Every day we "paddle out" into life, there are no guarantees. Might be gnarly, might not be. It could be anything.

So if nature has the ability to weave herself into every and any potential of weather, if she is fluctuating and in a constant tide of change, why would the world inside be any different than that which is outside?

My point is that I now recognize, it's_the_everything. The weather of the heart, the weather on the ocean, it always changes and it will continue to do so. I have found tremendous comfort in that revelation. Our essence is neither "sunshine" or "storm", it's every combination imagined and yet to be.

So let the summer sun warm my skin, let the torrents of rain push me back into shelter. I will take it all, happily. It is in the embracing of whatever is on the horizon that feels like I am doing "my yoga".

A Whale of a Time.

So Owen and I are now making paddling a weekly ritual. Yesterday was gorgeous. When we arrived at Fisherman's Cove the fog had just burnt off, giving way to warm hazy sun and almost no wind to speak of.

Most days we paddle out we try to make it to a cropping of rocks called "seal rock". This is where all the seals and sea lions congregate to soak in the ocean infused sun light. This day started like many others, a trek to say hi to the seals then a quick pit stop to check out the multi-colored starfish (which are visible only at low tide). After seeing the starfish plastered rocks Owen declared it was time to go check out the crabs back at shore. So we started to paddle back south.

As we paddled south Owen suddenly says "Mama, I want to see the whales now". I explained to him that I really couldn't tell Mother Nature what to do, so I wasn't sure we would be able to see them. Literally two minutes later I see something break the surface about 7 feet from our board. I say "hey O, there's another seal I think". Then a moment later the whole darn back of a grey whale lifts out of the ocean like a submarine resurfacing from the depths of the big blue.

I have to be honest, I was absolutely shocked. There was a split second when I almost dropped my paddle and picked up Owen. Good thing I caught myself in that moment of instinct because if I had snatched up Owen on that tipsy board, we may have had a MUCH closer encounter with these massive animals.

Of course Owen was stoked, so we turned back up wind to follow them on their journey north. There were two adults and then a juvenile that hugged the right side of it's mom belly as they cruised the shoreline for lunch. After heading around seal rock they tucked into a smaller cove to feed. It was low tide and I am still in awe of how close they were to shore! We hung outside the cove giving them space to do their thing. When they headed back out towards the next cove, we were (by accident) right in their trajectory. I can't explain the feeling inside when two huge whale noses rise up right in front of your board. It was magical. We could see right into their very tiny black eyes and they totally checked us out before they dove right underneath the board. That was the only time I really did get a little nervous, but I totally held it in and kept affirming to Owen that it was exciting and fun, nothing to worry about. I wanted to make sure he stayed curious and happy, rather than scared. Even with that close brush he still wanted to stay. He kept saying "Mama, I think they're gonna come out onnnnne mooooore time".

All in all, I think we spent about 40 minutes jocking around them trying to stay a respectful distance away, but close enough to get a good look! Yesterday was a gift for me and Owen. As we paddled back to shore I told Owen that we needed to thank Mother Nature for bringing the whales to visit us. Without any hesitation Owen raised his head to the sky and yelled "THANK YOU MOTHER NATURE!!!".

My heart is full.

Love,
Erin

The Tides they are a changing.

It's funny. Sometime these little precise phrases come to my mind right before bed. Usually they stick with me as my theme for yoga classes that week, sometimes they linger for contemplation for much longer. A few nights ago this was the phrase that started to grow buds inside my heart/head.

"Impermanence is a blessing".

As a culture (myself included) we love the idea of change except when we want something to stay put or the same. Looks, relationship ring a bell? There is a baby-bird-falling-out-of-the-nest kinda of feeling that arises when the change happens suddenly and without our approval. Things have been shifting radically within my yoga community and this dramatic change has birthed some of the greatest beauty to date. At the same time it caused a great deal of sadness and discomfort. Luckily, just like high tide, the sadness and hurt can only hang around for so long. What I've found though, is that as the sadness pulls back into the ocean of potential, the beauty remains.

The wildly beautiful and sometimes (read often) scary part is that we don't get to choose a lot of the time. Nature, life has her way with us and that is that. We can be dragged along kicking and screaming against the change or we can welcome it with open arms knowing that the alternative of life being a "static thing" would be very boring.

How do we find comfort in a world that is always changing? Knowing that there may be a Tsunami size wave behind a nice 3-4 footer. To be honest, I have had some very decent size swells reach my shore lately. For me, in the constant shifting of life and all it's relationships, it's what's inside. It on many days feels like a warm ember of a bonfire totally protected from the damp ocean breeze. Things grow, things die, day comes, night falls..the ember inside is still there unaffected. If can be a refuge of comfort and support, if we let it.

Everyday I go to our cove to paddle out, the shore looks different. Sometimes a little and sometimes a  lot. I welcome the change, that change is easy to embrace. Mother Nature shape shifting herself in those subtle ways. My hope is to find that ease and welcome for the changes that are unexpected or uncomfortable.

Just like doing a headstand on a paddle board. It's just gonna take more practice.

With Love,
Erin

Morning Church

From a young age I knew that nature was my connection to the divine. Roaming in her beauty has always been my form of church and this morning sermon was life changing. I know is may sound like a grand statement for a simple paddle out into the morning ocean, but it feels like I had been waiting for this experience for a very long time.
I took my English friend’s family out on the water this morning. There was quite a swell in the water and I almost had to add on the “heart attack surcharge” for getting them out of the gauntlet of our cove. There was four of us who paddled out and once a little of shore one family member was ready to head back in. Andy being the good brother he is, paddled back in with his sister. With Andy paddling back to shore, I continued to paddle out to check on the other family member. As I headed out into the endless spans of ocean I could see a very fast moving pod of dolphins. They were also pretty far off shore and I was a bit bummed I wouldn’t be able to say hi to them as they passed our cove.
Before I knew it, they were much closer and I was drawn to them like a shark to chum…OK, bad analogy, but you get my point. Upon approaching them I realized that this was no typical fast moving pod but a full-on feeding session with pelicans, sea lions, water ducks and dolphins. I have been on the ocean in some capacity almost all my life and I can say I have NEVER seen or been able to capture the show that mother nature was putting on this morning. The pelicans were b-line diving straight into the water within inches of our boards. The sea lions were playfully gliding in and out of the water. They didn’t even seem to be too concerned about catching breakfast, maybe more happy just to be part of the fray. Believe me is was nothing short of a fray unfolding in front of us, underneath and all around. We were literally surrounded by sea life. There were about 12 dolphins and even a brand new baby that couldn’t have been bigger than my forearm positioned safely next to her mom for the whole event. The amazing part is that I was right in the middle of this feeding for at least 20 minutes, they didn’t mind me there and actually stayed because of my presence…all right it was the fish, but still.
So back to what made this encounter not your typical encounter. Usually when I have paddled into a pod or the pod has traveled past me, they are there for a moment and then continue on their journey. It’s always been a fleeting interaction. This morning they stayed or rather they let me stay and get a front row view of a feeding frenzy. It was so intimate. I could very clearly see the variation of the colors on the sides of their bodies, which I always thought was grey but this morning it looked to be shades of a light brown tone. Four of the dolphins would take off side by side turn belly up, in perfect coordination and skim the top of the water and my board within inches. I was in total awe of their grace and agility. They weren’t performing, they were being the full embodiment of their dolphin-ness and it took my breath away. I was immersed in their energy and at times felt like I was part of the pod. We all moved with the current of the ocean together and without paddling more than a few strokes the whole time I was perfectly perched right in the middle. A few times I put my hands into the water and could feel their graceful bodies graze my longing to make contact.
I know that a lot of people “love dolphins” but I have always felt my connection to them comes from somewhere deeper. I have had dreams about dolphins, whales and sea life off and on since I was a little girl. I remember being at my grandparent’s beach house when I was young and waking early to see the dolphins frolicking in front of the house. Without a second thought I dove into the ocean, family asleep, me in my pajamas, to get close to them. The draw to them is something I can’t explain.
As a yoga teacher I understand that consciousness has the ability to unfold herself as anything and everything. I feel nothing short of completely honored and humbled by what I witnessed in the ocean. I had an amazing sense that even if this morning’s experience was the last for me on earth I would be totally content. The majesty of those animals, this morning with them will be held fibers of my being-ness forever. Nature is and will always be my place to remember that connection to everything. With love, Erin.

Leave the Door Cracked....

In my yoga teaching lately, I’ve been contemplating the idea of “absolute”. For when something is absolute it can never be anything other. Many times when I invite people out to come paddle with me the response I get is “I never go in the ocean” or “I totally don’t do cold water”. There is a myriad of answers that in short say “I’m absolutely not getting on a board with you!”. I get it, it’s not summer yet, the water is chilly, the ocean can be a daunting entity. I can’t help to think when someone makes such a strong proclamation, that they may be missing out. Myself included.
I’ve had a lot of absolutes in my life. I absolutely don’t eat meat. I absolutely don’t do hot yoga. Both are open for discussion nowadays. Why? Because life is short and I am REALLY into the “maybe” as of late. The “maybe” opens the door, it keeps the potential for dialogue, transformation and conversation. The same can be said for “truth”. The truth is as I see it, constantly changes. What is true today may very well not be tomorrow. It makes me excited and a bit giddy to think that something I cling onto dearly as “my way” or “the truth” may be completely dissipated with in a moment or a year. How exciting! The door is open, my ears, eyes, mind and heart are open. The “let’s see” vantage point, I’m realizing, is one of the most potent and fertile places to be.
So the next time someone asks you if you’d like to _______. Maybe you can pause and leave the door just a little cracked. Life is flows faster with every passing day and there is so much out there to experience. I personally hope the crack in my door eventually becomes a substantial opening to let more in….With love, Erin.