8.9.11

I've been thinking back to my yoga teacher training experience quite a bit lately. 


It was 4 years ago, well, almost to the day, that I finished that rather difficult phase of this journey.


One of my favorite parts of the experience was Mouna--the vow of silence. We spent a whole day not speaking, which was beyond powerful. But we also began each session together with a silent walk through the nature trails at the Indian Hill Winter Club. 


At the end of these walks, the one and only Lilias Folan would lead us in one version or another of a Native American prayer, dance, or chant. It always felt so liberating--as though I were a little bit closer to that state of Moksha--freedom. 


I remember on our last silent walk in nature, mid-August, my teacher Katy had said, "Do you feel that? The humidity broke. There's change in the air. The seasons are slowly starting to shift. It's time to transition." 


Her words come back to me every time the seasons change. Today I stepped outside and noticed that the air was a bit easier to take into the lungs; not so heavy or moist. 


Sure, we have a lot of rather warm, and definitely hot days left before we fully feel fall's crispness (and it's certainly a bit early for the pumpkin scents and ghost bottles of Bath & Body Works hand soaps). But the time to transition is beginning, in whatever capacity that means. It's never just the weather. Our own physical and emotional bodies start to shift, too. 


Feeling lucky--grateful--to be aware.