News from Jules | 09.12.2022 | Let it Be
When you get invited to something at Omega, you don’t ask what, you just go. And so, a couple of weeks ago, I found myself tiptoeing into the large, pagoda-like yoga studio space quietly nestled by the lake on the edge of Omega’s campus. The room was filled with 50 students silently holding hands in a giant circle surrounding a beautiful flower mandala altar on the wooden floor.
In just nine days of studying healing breathwork together with their renowned teacher this community had quickly formed and radiated with love.
I met many of the students in passing during their extended stay, including two women from Colorado—a mom and a fellow climber. Then one morning, I watched all of them swarm my intentionally empty breakfast table outside on the dining hall porch. I usually savor meals on my own for some peace and quiet, but there is a magnetic pull that can’t be resisted with kindred spirits.
By the end of the meal, we had exchanged phone numbers and my new friends insisted that I join in the next breathwork session. Even though it was their last shared experience together during the retreat, the teacher readily agreed. Another of the many gifts I received during my Birthday week.
It was the second time this season that I was personally invited to part of a retreat. Once again, I found myself inside the same light-filled building with the sensation that I was exactly where I was supposed to be in that moment.
As a writer, as a facilitator, as a student.
The first time was in June when I slipped into a reading hosted by Orion Magazine and sat beside fellow writers with a passion for the environment. For the next two hours, I listened to deeply inspiring readings of the instructors’ vivid and vulnerable non-fiction essays and poetry as tear after tear trickled down my face.
This second time I was invited and I said yes, I also had no idea what to expect. All I knew about this healing breathwork was that we’d be on the floor, so I brought my yoga mat and a cozy chenille blanket from my cabin.
Once the closing circle was complete and the students started buzzing around the room setting up their “breathing” spots, all my new friends rushed over with wide, open arms. As each hug lasted longer and longer, I noticed how tense and uncomfortable I was.
“What is your intention for today?,” asked the ex-pat mom from Colorado in her sultry Venezuelan accent.
“Surrender,” I whispered.
“Surrender to what?”
Surrender to love.
She kissed me on the forehead, rocked me back and forth, and cooed: “Let it be easy.”
Of course, this is the key to surrender.
The music was getting cued up so the breathwork would start at any minute. As I sat down in my little nest of yoga mat and blanky and meditation pillow, the teacher’s assistant rushed over to me. Kneeling beside me, he modeled the three-step breath: inhale, inhale, and long exhale, then asked me to repeat.
While I practiced, the assistant tapped my diagram, then my heart to guide me in drawing deeper breaths. At the same time, I saw the mom from Colorado kneel before me and anoint the skin of my chest bone with essential oils to open my heart chakra, as I felt the climber from Colorado gently massage my shoulders from behind me.
Even though I was a bit overwhelmed and afraid, I knew: this was a moment I had been imagining for a long time. Not to be the center of attention, but to be the center of care.
This is where the deep breathwork of the next hour began.
Once I lay down in my nest, my mind traversed the 40 years of my life and I was immersed in memories that I hadn’t relived in years or decades. Each time I felt my neck stiffen, the tears swell and the breath quicken, I remembered: Let it be easy.
To receive all the love that I give.
To be held gently in the palm of the Universe and know that it will always provide.
To feel safe and secure and grounded.
To surrender to love.
May you let it be easy this week.
Love,
Jules