Rest

I was heartened to read Karen Brody’s recent blog post where she talks about rest and how many are using it as a tool to be more productive, missing the point entirely.

I’ve been questioning this for a while now. Yoga Nidra has become a popular practice in the yoga world, and the concept of rest too, but I have concerns that it becomes yet another tick box exercise, “done my rest- tick”, yet another ‘thing’ to fit into already busy days.

I also like what Karen  says when she writes, “If we are resting to be more productive then we are feeding into the same paradigm that's making us all sick and tired”, because I believe she touches on something that is underpinning so much of life right now, this constant feeding into the same paradigm that has the world sick and tired and in need of change.

Frequently I see people coming up with ideas and schemes, which they feel will positively change the way we live, yet from my side, all they are doing is simply reinventing the wheel and in many cases, losing themselves in the jargon of it. Women especially are doing this, believing they are supporting a move to a new more aligned way of being in touch with the deep feminine, yet actually they are still feeding into the male paradigm.

Patriarchy is so deeply ingrained in our psyche and in our society that it is very difficult to see through it. I was reading an article about Jane Fraser being appointed as the first female CEO of Citigroup, making her the first woman to lead a major US bank and I congratulate her for piercing the glass ceiling and yet I find myself questioning whether it will actually make a positive change. If she is playing the game the male way, focused on objectives and achievement and feeding into the linear, then what difference does it make if she is female, she’s still supporting the same system; nothing changes.

I’m not sure that we can create a new world based on sex anyhow, nor on what’s happened previously, because memory doesn’t always serve us well, its laden with perception, and false perception often too. I wonder if it might be the dreamers that will see us through to another way of being, those who have tapped into a much deeper place within themselves that is not based on history (at least in their minds), but imagines a whole new world that we have not yet ever seen. This is one of heart and creativity, not one of fear and safety. 

This might be a world where family and health are viewed as more important than material wealth and the bottom line, where stress is taken seriously and so too the needs of our children for parental interaction and time. A world where simplicity is viewed as more important than filling our houses and our minds, our world then, with ‘stuff’ that adds no value beyond the sophomoric and numbing that is so entrenched in our society.

We are always trying to find a way to numb our pain. I could write a whole blog post on this alone. The almost daily reporting of court cases over here in Guernsey about people found illegally possessing cannabis and being found drunken in a public place is indicative of this, so too the drive towards legalisation of recreational drugs and the explosion of CBD oil as a pain reliever. I always think of Kahlil Gibran’s poem entitled ‘On Pain’, which reads:

“And a woman spoke, saying, Tell us of Pain.

     And he said:

     Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.

     Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.

     And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

     And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.

     And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

      Much of your pain is self-chosen.

     It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.

     Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:

     For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,

     And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears. “

I like how he writes, “much of your pain is self-chosen”, because this is my experience. Having suffered with depression for much of my 20s, and having made an attempt to study and understand my mind and the source of my suffering, I see that so much of it was because of my mind and my perception of life as it was lived moment to moment, but so often lived based on memory, and even this a perception, an illusion all of itself. 

 It was my pain that made me go deeper, that asked me not to numb myself from it with antidepressants and to gradually let go of my reliance on smoking cannabis and drinking alcohol, but to delve right deep into it, to understand it, and to make peace with it. In the process of this, turning as I did to yoga and Reiki, I connected to a part of myself that I knew on some level from my teenage years as a surfer and a contented childhood spent so often in my imagination, that there is more than what we can see. As Gibran writes, there is this part of us that is “guided by the tender hand of the Unseen”. It was the connection to the tender hand (the hand an extension of the heart space lets not forget) of the Unseen that eased my pain and supported my healing.

It is this perhaps, the Unseen, that will help to change things if only we can trust in it. It is tricky though, to trust in something that we cannot see, to trust in something that is difficult to define because definition limits and this cannot be limited, to trust in something that is felt from a deep place inside us that comes and goes, cannot be held down. This is not a world where we trust. This is a world where we try to make life certain, ordered, controlled, because we don’t trust and look how Covid-19 has challenged that! 

This is not about patriarchy or feminism or the divine feminine movement, this is something entirely different. This is about a paradigm shift deeper into the heart, that is not separated in the quest to understand and compartmentalize. It is about resting into that deeper place within ourselves, within our body, that cannot be intellectualised, that cannot limit us like our mind, but that can help us navigate our lives into the unknown. It can be very messy, but this is the way of the heart, as my yoga teacher says, “Deep grace isn’t always pretty or easy to witness. Sometimes it is necessary to howl.”

 It seems so simple to me at times. If we look to those who might inspire us like Mother Teresa or Mahatma Gandhi, and for me Diana Beresford-Kroeger, there is only deep integrity, heart and simplicity. These are people who learned how to rest into themselves. I don’t know that this meant they took time to lie down and be still, which is how we might think that ‘rest’ looks, although it is likely. If you look at a definition of rest, ‘cease work or movement in order to relax, sleep, or recover strength’, then being still must surely play a part in it. Yet it is more than resting for the sake of getting anything and more an opportunity to ‘strengthen’ through non-doing, the connection to that which is always present and yet often overlooked in the quest for productivity.

As Brody writes, “Productivity is not bad. But the problem with using rest practices to fuel more productivity is that not only can productivity put us in a hypnotic state of masculine overdrive, but productivity feeds a culture that is fundamentally not working for most of our bodies and minds. When we tell people to rest so that they can be more productive, even if it's couched in values asking us to slow down, we are still selling a flawed paradigm.” She gets it! This is the trouble with our society. We grasp onto something as if it might be the magic pill that makes everything OK, yet still, still, we do it to get something; we expect an outcome, and a positive one at that.

It’s so not that. In the fleeting moments of the rest there is nothing to do and nothing to change, for we become, fleeting, fleeting, fleeting, like a bird fleetingly visiting a bird table to feed, more of who we already are, underneath all the stories and labels and ‘things’ and ‘stuff’. It is not that we trust the Unseen, it is that we are the Unseen, so why wouldn’t we trust in it when we know it to be all that is actually real. Fleetingly it goes. But like the bird that fleetingly feeds at the bird table, we fill ourselves up on it each time that visit it. It is this for me, that is truly rest. It doesn’t try to change anything! It allows us to live from a deeper place in heart, that’s all. Then everything changes!

 It is not therefore for us to find a new way on the outside, but to rest more fully into the deep presence always available to us from within our own body, on the inside.  This is when rest becomes much more than the opportunity to become more productive or to achieve something or produce an outcome, to separate, divide and conquer, but to take us back home to the mystery and magic of the self. 

I’ll leave you with this poem from Rainer Rilke

“My life is not this steeply sloping hour,
in which you see me hurrying.
Much stands behind me; I stand before it like a tree;
I am only one of my many mouths,
and at that, the one that will be still the soonest.

I am the rest between two notes,
which are somehow always in discord
because Death’s note wants to climb over—
but in the dark interval, reconciled,
they stay there trembling.
And the song goes on, beautiful.”

P.S. Pride was AMAZING tonight!

Autumn snuck in!

Autumn is here, it snuck in when we thought it might never arrive. It takes me by surprise each year, and yet it shouldn’t, not really, it’s part of the wheel, like clockwork, will always appear. I’m resistant though to its arrival, I’m a summer baby, a water one too, I love the heat and the energy of summer, and although I know that it tends to burn me out in the end, I never actually want it to end.

In many respects I’m grateful then, that autumn suddenly appears. If I think about it too much I get a longing for the warmth which I know is about to disappear. I cling on tightly, not wanting to let go, yet autumn does it for me, because there’s nothing to hold on to when it arrives. And actually i’m always blown away and spellbound by its clarity of light.

The last few days I have caught myself mesmerised, cycling and having to stop and be still and watch the most incredible evening skies as the sun as setting. I could have shouted to the universe, “you are so beautiful”, I wanted to, but I didn’t, because I did’t want to scare anyone, but it was that stunning.

Then yesterday at the beach. I was lost in the revelry of the clouds. Oh my goodness, those autumnal clouds; the most perfectly puffy clouds, cumulus clouds, their name deriving from the Latin cumulo, meaning heap or pile. These are piles that are welcome in my sky, suspended, low in the bright blue sky, a gift from God, I was mesmerised. I love clouds, could watch them for hours, but these have to be my favourite, in autumn, when the light is bright and the sky so full of life.

I swam out as far as I could into the bay and lay on my back and gazed at this clouds, and the land, and I could see the Guet in the distance, an arch of green, and I thought maybe I had died and gone to heaven. To be held like this, held, oh my goodness, you know you’re alive, that there is a mystery that we cannot name that permeates our being and in moments like that, moments, we are suspended in its glory, I didn’t want to be anywhere else on this Earth, this beautiful earth.

It got me again later, out on the bike. I had to just stop. It reminds me of Scotland, this autumnal light. There is something about that place, the space, the light, the clarity, it’s made for people like me, the artists and the poets, the seekers and the wanderlust. We bathe in this stuff; it does something to us. Every time I visit my best friend in Scotland, I spend the first few hours commenting on the light, mesmerised by it, blown away, stunned, nothing else seems important but embodying it somehow, anyhow.

Autumn does that to me too, beyond the initial resistance, when I can smell it creeping in, the mornings, sometimes the evenings, when summer is still in full swing, but there’s a shift, the leaves, already browning, the acorn, the blackberries! How can I write about autumn and leave it so long to mention blackberries., Now these are another autumn gift. This is the season of the harvest, fruits and vegetables, what is there not to like. We are awash in the bounty, is this the most abundant season? I can’t be sure, they all usher in a gift, but there is something special, ok it’s the light, I’m still lost in the light.

So that’s another summer done and gone, although it won’t be done just like that, it bobs in and out, snatches of it, reminding us, “here I am”, it says, “yet but here I am”, autumn calls back with its apples and tomatoes, its squashes and berries. Then it will just disappear, a memory, a reminder, a motivation towards next summer, next summer we will do this - maybe next summer I’ll make it to Petit Port, I meant to do it this year, but summer ran away with itself, the same bays, the same beaches, there’s something comforting about familiarity, of witnessing the shifting landscape, then passing seasons, the subtleties.

We’re headed towards the equinox now, they say many of the dolmens are orientated towards the equinox shift, the equal duration of days and night when all is in harmony, the light and dark, the tipping point, another turn on the wheel of the year, taking us this time towards the darkness, the waning down, the dropping within, the introspective time of reflection and stillness. There is much to be celebrated. And we will celebrate, a perfect time for bonfires, for the letting go of what is no longer needed and the tending to the harvest, of the seeds planted, finishing off those projects of which I have many.

It’s an exciting time, full of its own potential, the opportunity for transformation by the grace of God, the grace! Oh the grace of the transition, we have much to learn. I’m trying to learn, to allow, allow, allow, the mystery, flow, not hold on to that which needs to be gone, an identity, perceived, imagined, made real, who cares who cares?! Puffy clouds, that’s the image I’m going to hold, still, full, just being, be-ing. I like that. Autumn. Light. Clarity. A glimpse of the mystery. I felt that. x

Disillusionment about teaching yoga

This week I was hit by this overwhelming sense of disillusionment about teaching yoga. I think it had been building, but it did take me a little by surprise nonetheless. For the first time ever, I also found it difficult to get on my mat one day, that’s definitely a first! I made it in the end, and was pleased for it, it felt like a cross-roads, a no going back and perhaps on some level that was where the resistance came from!

The not teaching yoga anymore though, that one I have been sitting with. It comes in part from a disillusionment with the yoga ‘industry’ and the fact I don’t want to be a part of that. When I trained as a teacher 15 years ago now, teacher training courses were sparse, and I had to apply to get on the course that I chose, with a reputable teacher in Australia.

Now anyone can learn to teach yoga, or what the West now perceive to be yoga, which for many is nothing more than an exercise regime. It’s sad really, that our culture has once again taken something and turned it into an opportunity to make money. Many courses are focused on this alone, how you might make money and run a business from teaching yoga; not about the love of it, the calling, the passion!

But it’s more than that, it’s just this weariness I have about being a part of it, of somehow unintentionally feeding into the illusion of it, just because I teach yoga, when really it is so much more than that to me, because it is my life, my all, my whole being. It is the practice and the sacred and the deep mystery. I don’t want to sell out on that and I don’t want to be confused with those who are, and to maintain all that it is, I wonder if it might be better not to share it and have it be diluted in the process.

I realised though, once I had chatted it through with my brother (my spiritual advisor!!) and my yoga teacher, that it is about boundaries and trust; the boundaries to know with whom to share it and to trust in the mystery of the practice, both of which sit deep in the solar plexus. Perhaps it was no surprise then that my teacher has been taking me deep into this space the last few weeks, to the gateway that lives in this space,, which will reveal itself to us when we are still enough to rest into it.

Strangely, or not so strangely, I have also been aware this week, of insects landing on my skin, to the extent that a random flea (a flea!) jumped onto my foot completely out of the blue, freaked me out a bit! There’s been a theme this year with the mice and ants before lockdown and now the insects. So it came as no surprise, less so because I had had a strange inkling for a while now, that something wasn't right, but the same day I had an ‘ah ha’ moment about boundaries, I found out that I have a parasite living in my gut!

It was a relief actually, to finally have the diagnosis, because I knew something wasn’t right and my skin was indicative of that, yet I knew that I hadn't quite got to the root of it…and might still have some way to go. But let’s face it, there’s no greater boundary issue that letting a parasite enter your gut! The universe couldn’t make it clearer, the other parasites showing themselves this week (the flea!) and me questioning the parasites who are sucking the life out of yoga and feeding into the illusion of the wellness world (an illusion because we couldn't be a more unwell society if we tried!).

Boundary work takes you deep into the heart and the solar plexus. There is an element of self-worth and self-love; how much do you value your time? Do you put other’s needs ahead of your own, or that of your family and those you care about the most? Do you know how to best mange your time? Do you protect yourself from the parasites that suck the life from you? Do you know how to meet your own needs as they arise? Are you capable of looking after yourself? Do you give too much of yourself?

Yet it is never black and white, never quite as clear cut as we might hope it to be, because wrapped up in this is the passion for helping others, for being in service, for living a life of purpose, for exploring what it means to be alive. so that our boundaries might change from moment to moment, depending on where we are at in our life. And tied into this is trust, and settling more fully into that, so that we let go of our attachments, our pushing and pulling and trying to control and make things happen…which is the reason there has to be some flexibility around our boundaries too, to allow the mystery to enter in.

But at its heart of course is ourselves, our true self, and releasing and surrendering any patterns or behaviours that are no longer serving that truth. The universe will make this clear to us, will give us signs, will help us step up and drop in, to hear more clearly that voice within, to trust in where it is taking us, even if we cannot see how life might unfold, if we could only let go into it without having to control it or direct it or in any way sabotage it. There’s a lot of strength in living like that, because we have to develop deep trust in something greater than what we can see and discernment too. But sometimes, like with teaching and practising yoga, we have no choice, there is no other way, we know that deep down!

The rest of the plants!

The rest of the plants are now in the ground at home and it feels good to have them all close, like their energy has lifted the property!

Here’s the wood betony, above, only a few of them, but they’re interesting nonetheless, curious to see what happens to them as they grow.

Here’s my one and only culver’s root. I’m grateful for this little being, it took its time, teaching me patience!

Here's all the elecampane now in place.

And here is the abundant St John’s wort, which is now in what was the veggie patch (with a courgette plant and corn hanging in there, the rest was finished).

These are red oak, grown from seed, we’re excited about those. Got a whole heap of acorns potted up on the waxing moon and with some Reiki…hoping they’ll be OK!

I’m busy drying herbs and various flowers…so far my lavender oil is my favourite, mixed with dead sea salts from Israel, just the most perfect bath companion; my skin loves it too, and the boys are keen as well!

Love Emma x

You're not a fraud!

It’s been in the ‘field’ recently, because a number of people have shared with me how they feel a fraud for working in the capacity of Reiki healer or yoga teacher when they are still healing themselves and dealing with their own trauma, insecurities and lack of self-worth.

I have fallen into this trap in the past too, of believing that I had to have all my ‘stuff’ sorted to work in a healing and yogic capacity. I used to put all my yoga teachers up on pedestals, for example, thinking that they had it sorted, that they were wiser and somehow better than me; healed and enlightened. Not that I had any evidence that this was the case, beyond my own perception of what it might mean to be a ‘proper’ yoga teacher and/or Reiki practitioner. 

And this is often the problem that we face; our own minds and what we believe to be right or wrong and our (mis)perceptions and expectations of what a particular ‘role’ in life might look like. Others will feed into this with their perception and expectation of what they think your life should look like too. Many yoga students assume that yoga teachers are vegan-eating, calm and centred semi-enlightened beings. This couldn’t be farther from the truth!

 We are all human and we are all doing the best we can, and those of us yoga teachers and healers are trying to find our way just like everyone else. As E always says, we’re probably more neurotic than most, and it is this, and our own suffering, that has led us to yoga and healing in the first place. More fool anyone for putting themselves on a pedestal and putting out to the world that they are sorted, because it will always catch up on you in the end.

I suppose this had been on my mind, when quite by chance, or not perhaps, I stumbled across reference to Michael Stone on a yoga website a few weeks ago. Michael was a psychotherapist, yoga teacher, Buddhist teacher, author and activist, committed to the integration of traditional teachings with contemporary psychological and philosophical understanding. He hosted sell-out seminars, retreats, conferences and workshops related to Buddhism across Canada and around the world. 

Married with two children and another on the way, he died from a drug overdose in Victoria on Vancouver Island at the age of 42 in 2017. Unbeknown to his students or the outer world, Michael was suffering quietly with bipolar disorder and several months before his death, his mania began to cycle more rapidly. Until that point he had been managing his mental health through Buddhism and yoga for years, but had sought medical help in the months leading up to his death.

A statement at the time of his death said, “He went to bed early. He ate a special diet…He saw naturopaths and herbalists and trainers and therapists. As things worsened, he turned to psychiatry and medication as well. Balancing his meds was ever-changing and precarious”. The statement went on to say that Michael kept his condition private because he “feared the stigma of his diagnosis…[but] he was on the cusp of revealing publicly how shaped he was by bipolar disorder and how he was doing”.

I was shocked when I read all this and felt sad that Michael hadn’t felt he could share his suffering with his students, as if he might be judged, or his sharing might somehow negate his teachings, cause others to question them. His website reads, “Michael was on the cusp of revealing publicly how his life was shaped by bipolar disorder. It was complicated though. As a spiritual teacher for whom so many looked to for stability, he wondered if it was better to hide his own fragility. As a psychotherapist, he was trained to put his own stuff aside in order to work with others. He was also a human who felt—and was allowed to feel—the stigma, shame, and self-consciousness that comes with a mental health diagnosis in a culture that largely doesn’t know how to deal with neurodiversity.”

It is complicated. There is a certain vulnerability that comes with being deeply authentic in this world with all its expectations, and especially when we have such high expectations for ourselves too. As many of you will know I have a history of depression and have been trying to write about it in a manuscript these last few years. The writing has taken me on an inner journey as I have been required to dig deep and resolve those aspects of self that still held an emotional resonance, that were still impacting on my mind, feeding into false perception and continuing to support – in many respects – my suffering.

During lock-down I dropped into a dark night of the soul and the depression felt all too real. It was all part of the process, and was necessary for my writing and own self-healing. A friend asked how it was that I could continue teaching and I remarked that it is in the teaching and the attempt at being there for others that keeps me grounded and helps support my own healing – life continues anon and I want to be a part of that, not hide away from it, because I feel that my life should look a certain way if I am to be a compassionate and effective teacher or human being. 

This is reflected to a point by Michael’s website, which further reads, “Michael loved his students and he loved his work. The practices he shared through workshops, retreats, and writing were a life raft for him. His work inspired and grounded him. As a neurodiverse person living with internal instability, he channelled his challenges and the insights gleaned from his experience into tools that he could share with others. It could be argued that it was in experiencing these challenges that Michael became so effective as a teacher and communicator. For someone facing his kinds of suffering, he did really, really well.”

This raises a very important point, especially for those who are battling with their ‘goodness’ and ability to teach/heal others when they are going through the mill themselves. It is only through our experiences that we grow as conscious human beings, that we gain insight and are en-lightened of the human condition. Let us not forget that we are in this together – we are all connected and are a micro of the macro. Our challenges are here to help us to grow and it is through our compassionate sharing that we can help to support others as they too navigate their challenges; empathy, understanding and compassion are paramount to the healing process.

Authenticity is crucial too. Without this, we are kidding ourselves as much as we are kidding others and we are setting ourselves up for a fall. This also comes with experience, the dropping away of the layers that prevent us from being honest with ourselves and allowing more of our vulnerability. It is a never ending process and demands patience and kindness towards the self. Unfortunately our ‘quick fix’ culture, especially influenced by the allopathic world, does very little to support this, and it is common place to find yoga and Reiki students grasping for the ‘cure’, the course, workshop, training and/or attunement that will suddenly make them whole and fix them.  

It will all help, of course, but it takes time and honesty, getting out of our denial, and the tendency towards self-sabotage and the misperception that we have to have it all sorted otherwise what right do we have to help others – buying into the idea that we are indeed a fraud. It’s tricky territory, because as soon as we start buying into this, we start to give ourselves a hard time and our internal critic reigns as we feed into the negative self-talk and add to the weight of our lack of self-worth, which underpins so much of this.

I went through this not that long ago so write with some degree of experience. Fortunately my healing friend, Jo, pulled me up on it and I am more aware of catching myself now. I have had a skin condition for three years now, which has gotten worse over that time. I have been trying to treat it holistically, mainly through Ayurveda. I can see so clearly why it is there from an Ayurvedic perspective, but have ‘struggled’ (this word is the give-away!) to heal it myself. I felt like a fraud – how can I possibly help others to heal Ayurvedically, when it didn’t appear to be working for me. 

This train of thinking did nothing to ease the bout of depression. I was giving myself a really hard time, to the extent that my spirit flagged and I questioned whether I might continue working in a ‘healing’ capacity. I went to the doctor in the end, which was a big deal for me, because until that point, despite the many lessons I have learned through my experience with conception and birth, I still held onto the notion that allopathic treatment is bad, holistic is good; the mind was buying into the separation and thus creating some inner-disharmony.

The doctor diagnosed peri-oral dermatitis, which was a huge relief, to finally have a diagnosis and something to work with and I wished it hadn’t taken me so long to ‘surrender’ to seeking allopathic help (and having to therefore let go of my notion of right/wrong, good/bad – it amuses me how we create so much of our own suffering through our perceptions). I was prescribed three months’ worth of anti-biotics, which caused me to actually laugh out loud in the doctor’s surgery, because of course I know only too well that what we resist persists - I have been a vocal advocate against antibiotics for a good while now and this was strengthened when I saw for myself the damage they caused when Eben was prescribed them at birth; even now his tummy is still not healed.  

It was a big deal for me to take the tablets, and yet I learned so much about my mind during the experience, that has been helpful. It kickstarted too my research into peri-oral dermatitis, which is of course not straight forward to treat, why would it be, how would I grow if there wasn’t a healing challenge to resolve! The anti-biotics will help to an extent, but will not get to the cause - any skin condition, as I know only too well, is linked to the heart and involves a good look at self-love and the manner in which we self-harm, and it is intrinsically linked to stress too, which is ironic, is it not, for a yoga teacher to be stressed! 

Yet stressed I can be, in my effort to be all things, to live up to my cultural expectation and my own inner drive towards achieving and being of some use and purpose in this world - living life to the full, helping and knowing more of my own mind in the process; in short, becoming conscious. Reading about Michael, it struck me that this might well have underpinned so much of his motivation too and I couldn’t say it better than the words used on his website:

“Considering his practice and teaching, it’s easy to wonder how he could’ve died. We could instead ask, how did he live so well considering the power of his neurodiverse wiring? What can we learn about our own minds and hearts from someone who visited the front lines of the mind? There is an all too common theme in yoga and dharma worlds: if you practice deeply enough, you will heal, and if you don’t heal, your practice or something in you is flawed. This is not true.”

 I agree; I know that those teachers and friends who have inspired me the most, are those that have gone through, and are going through their own mill. These are the people who are doing work on themselves, who embrace the challenges, because it gives them something to work with. Yoga and meditation are practices, they provide us with tools to help us navigate our way through life, they are not the cure in themselves, it is only when we work with them that we might come to heal more of ourselves. So it is the same with Reiki and Ayurveda – we adopt the principles so that they become a part of our life; we live them. 

There are times when we need help from others, when we need counselling or therapy, when we need allopathic medicine. All of these I have called on over the last few years; nine months ago I went through a course of EDMR because the yoga and the Reiki and the Ayurveda had got me so far, unravelled some of the trauma, but I was struggling to let it go and EDMR helped me through this process and I shall be forever grateful to Marni Alexendra for that (life changing) processing.

We should not feel it is a sign of weakness or be shamed by the need to seek professional help or to allow our students to know what we are going through; we are all only human, even those of us teaching yoga. We need to give ourselves a break and allow the break downs to help us to break through whatever is getting in our way. Sometimes we are our own obstacle because we feel we have to look, act or be perceived a particular way. It takes a lot of energy to keep up this pretence and half our problem is letting go of that and this idea of an image that we want to present to the world. 

I am grateful to the depression and also to the peri-oral dermatitis, for both have given me a reason to dig deep and learn more about healing and about myself. My learnings have helped me to be kinder and more compassionate to myself, forgiving and letting go of stubborn unforgiveness and having greater compassion and empathy for others too, so that my experience informs my work and I may share from a place of deeper awareness and integrity.

I suspect the depression will always come and go for it is a messenger that shows me where I need to let go of holding in my mind, of mental constructs which are limiting me and the process of letting go allows me to breakthrough to another level of consciousness so that the world appears brighter, with more potential than I could have ever possible imagined - as if a new world awaits if only I could get out of my own way (depression helps this). As for the peri-oral dermatitis, I’m not quite sure where this is taking me, but I’m flowing with it as best I can and increasingly accepting that we are more than the face we put out to the world! 

To those of you battling with this idea that you have to be whole and healed to do the work you do, give yourself a break: it is your humanness that will inspire others, and allow them to be more of who they are, not your denial of it. The more you can allow your authentic self its expression, with all its messiness and contradictions, the more it gives others permission to awaken and acknowledge those aspects of self that might require attention. It is in our healing that we help others to heal, it is in our growing and expansion that we allow others to grow and expand too. I’m grateful to Michael, for his story has allowed me to own more of my truth - thank you.

Love Emma x

More plants!

I managed to move more plants to our home yesterday, get them in the ground as they requested! They really do talk, its amazing. E thinks I’m crazy, says they are just responding to the gases in my breath when I talk to them, but I believe they have a consciousness and we can tap into that, same with trees.

Here’s the Echinacea, in our front garden, by some lavender that a kind neighbour gave to us. This is good for supporting our immune system and preventing colds and such like.

Here’s the Valerian, good for sleep and relaxing, looking forward to trying that!

Here’s some of my elecampane, got to figure out whether I can fit the rest of it into that space…

I’ve got about 70 pots of St John’s Wort that still need a home. E’s beginning to grow weary of me taking over ‘his’ garden that he’s cultivated from a wild mess of stone and brambles when he bought the property 15 years ago now. It’s incredible the transformation, and what he has found as he has turned the land, it was very much a rubbish dump out the back overlooking the quarry.

My veggie patch has been abundant too this year and we are going to extend this, if we can make the room, we’ve got almost 200 saplings we are nurturing for our Plant A Tree Project, and intend to extend on this the next six months or so. It’s so exciting, I just love the process of growing, my grandparents were tomato growers, my uncle was a rose grower, both my cousins have grown their own produce for many years, more recently my parents too, you can’t escape your nature can you.

Trying not to get too attached…that’s the tricky bit! That’s when the suffering comes, as I am continuously learning; the more attached we come to outcome or expectation, the more our mind craves it and is disappointed if it doesn’t materialise. So let’s just go with it, see what happens, ‘let it be’, that’s my mantra for now.

Love

The magic of Sark

We recently spent six wonderful days on the magical island of Sark, a place that has stolen my heart, like Byron Bay in Australia, it is just out of this world, as if a true gift from the universe and I felt that I had died and gone to heaven many times over.

We camped the first few nights, and I will never forget waking in the middle of the night and going outside to witness the many stars overhead and the moon rising in the distance, still there, higher in the sky though, the next morning. It felt like my own private show, everyone else asleep and just these marvellous skies that you miss sleeping inside.

We stayed in self catering too, which felt like luxury after the camping, and I really did feel as if we had been blessed, the weather was phenomenal and we swam in the sea as much as we could, hiking up and down the cliffs, often with Eben in arms, and I discovered the joy that is Derrible Bay; there is always something new to discover on every trip, and never enough time to visit all that one might like to visit.

If you haven’t been to Sark please go, but please do venture further than the Bel Air and the Mermaid, further the Stocks too, I know it’s a popular one for lunch (and it is a beautiful hotel owned by lovely yogis, which we are very grateful to use for our retreats, it’s only a short walk from Dixcart too), but Sark has so much more to offer. It’s an island that has hidden treasures that will share itself with you the more you open up to it and notice and appreciate its beauty.

There’s nothing quite as special as a high tide morning swim at La Greve de la Ville, below the lighthouse, for example. I enjoy the walk too, there’s plenty of blackberries for the picking at the moment, helped get the children back up the hill! The morning light shimmers on the sea, and the clarity of the water is magnificent, it always sets me up well for the day head, there’s magic in that bay that’s for sure, even the children swam, their first proper Sark sea swim!

Mind you there’s a little bit of magic in all the bays. We visited Derrible for the first time and it was well worth it, visiting Sarkhenge on the way, and down the steep path, I left a sleeping Eben with E and Grandma at the top, but Elijah and I were both fine on the path and over the rocks at the bottom, joining some of our Sark friends celebrating a birthday.

Estelle showed us the caves, which are magnificent, especially the creux, which means a cave without a roof, and this one feels like you might be in a cathedral, there is an energy to it, go and have a feel. The swim was wonderful here too, it’s a lovely sandy beach and with record temperatures, the sea was much needed and extremely welcoming.

There’s Dixcart of course, just down from Stocks (see you can go for a swim before lunch!) and we managed a few trips down here. It’s fab swimming both at high and low tide, and has a little waterfall for the children to potter around, playing in the stream too, and going in and out of the arch. The walk down is beautiful, through the ancient-feeling woodland, which is healing by its very nature, or around the cliffs, currently laden with juicy and sweet blackberries, yum!

Port du Moulin is another favourite, I’m particularly keen on high tide swimming here but we have swam at low tide too. There’s Buddhist carvings on the rocks if you venture between the cliff and Tintageu, and actually if you go around into the cave, there’s fools gold (pyrite) in the rocks. Elsewhere you might find silver and Sark amethyst and I’m sure there’s other magical stones too - you can’t help but be affected positively by all the crystal and mineral energy!

I ventured down La Grand Greve, all 360 odd steps on my own one afternoon for a low tide swim, this after two trips to Dixcart, my legs were certainly feeling it, but my gosh it was worth the effort. I hadn’t been down there at such a low tide before and I was not to be disappointed, this will be on my list next time, albeit we were treated to the hottest temperatures of the summer that particular day and I was swimming with friends.

I made it to yoga that evening, a trip to Sark is never complete without a class with Caragh, a friend, chocolatier and fellow yogini. Caragh weaves Qi gong and yoga together and we practised outside on the playing field at the Village Hall, a fab end to a fab day!

There’s so much more, we’ve still not yet managed to get to Port a la Jument, or for a swim at Rouge Terrier, nor at Havre Gosselin, let alone the Eperquerie landings as we always run out of time. We did find the Venus Pools on our last trip but the locals say there are better pools to find. It took us over to Little Sark though and I always like to visit the Dolmen there if I can as this gets you a little off the beaten track and there are more blackberries to be found!

There’s more Buddhist carvings out towards Bec du New and caves down there at Les Fontaines. There’s plenty of caves, we still have to explore many of these and this red book helps; I was introduced to Jeremy who helped to update the original version and I know now how to get on and off Derrible Bay the La Trobe-Bateman way! No trip is complete without this book in hand, and will ensure that more of Sark reveals itself to you when the time is right, and will find you wanting to return for more.

Not to say we didn’t visit the Bel Air, Eben is keen on the play equipment in there, which we think is lethal. You’ll know what we mean if you visit, but it seems to keep the children entertained! Not far away from here is Lynn’s peaceful treatment space, I visited her for a hot stone massage and was not disappointed, I highly recommend, she is an aromatherapist and Reiki Master too and teaches both Reiki and massage so she knows her stuff, go and treat yourself! She also has a one-bedroom (double) self catering unit to rent, not far from the Avenue, see https://www.lesronche.com

I could go on, about the cycling, and the joy of La Valette campsite, the heritage museum, Mont Plaisirs stores (the two ladies who run it have been friends their whole lives, and their mums were best friends before them, I like that), Caragh’s chocolate shop and cafe and all that amazing chocolate (plus the pool and trampoline, which the children loved), the charity shop with all it’s finds and Simon’s shop next door, which the children always visit, and Jill Gill’s new shop along towards the Mermaid, the cafe on the left on the way to Stocks which is by far the best place for lunch, oh and there’s a display in the old Village Hall all about Sark under the German occupation, which is fascinating and makes you feel incredibly grateful for the freedom of life lived now.

I encourage you to go and visit if you can. I’ve two retreats planned on Sark, it is a marvellous place to retreat, and these are now fully booked as if proving that. I do have it in mind to run a more intimate retreat, a soul nourishing weekend with yoga and visits to some of Sark’s special places (although it’s all special really), so let me know if you would be interested in that, and also if you’d like to go on the cancellation list for the Spring retreat - emma@beinspiredby.co.uk - but honestly any trip is a retreat and a treat too!

Thank you Sark and you beautiful Sarkees.

Love Emma x

Some of my medicinal plants!

I am so delighted to finally have the plants in my moon garden, ahead of then next moon cycle next week. We’ve been in Sark and it has been hot and I could almost hear them asking me to get them in the ground as soon as possible…the marshmallow had already started rooting through the pots!

So here they are, the plants en masse…

And here they are individually:

Gypsywort

Woad and wormwood

Mullem and motherwort

Hyssop

Marshmallow

And this is the pot marigold soaking in sweet almond oil awaiting me finding time to make calendula salve infused with moonlight, sunlight and Reiki, oh and some love…

There’s still a significant number of plants in my parents’s greenhouse needing to be planted out, this is next on the list. The airing cupboard is now full of flowers and leaves drying so I can make teas and oils. Here’s some marshmallow and calendula flowers about to go to be dried.

The beams in the kitchen are being used to dry lavender, sage and rosemary to make beautiful oils. Here’s the sage oil on its way:

I love my plants, they actually communicate. I’m so grateful for their abundance and all they give. It’s a learning curve trying to work out what to do and its costing a small fortune in bits and bobs, but I am enjoying making my own potions and feeling the benefit. The bath scrubs I am enjoying the most, especially with the homemade lavender oil, although the sage oil is definitely potent and great for clearing the energy - very calming when applied to the head.

I made some cough medicine for the boys recently using thyme from the garden. It actually worked! I was really excited about this, despite the amount of honey required by the recipe, made me realise how much we can do to help ourselves, it’s just about finding the time!

I’ve got to learn what to do with the St John’s wort as these are flowering…I shall share photos once those are in the ground too!

Happy Friday!

x