Dive In

When I saw this water in the image above, all I wanted to do was dive in. Not surprisingly, this is Turquoise Bay at the Ningaloo Reef, Cape Range National Park in Western Australia. And yes, I did step into this idyllic water with mask, snorkel, and fins to explore what inhabited this pristine wilderness. I wasn't disappointed at its residents...abundant and varied reef fish, corals, and a sleek reef shark. My experience in stepping into waters such as these is that a certain surrender is needed as you feel the mood of the ocean's current tugging at your limbs and not to struggle against it. Part of the experience is hearing your breath through the snorkel as it offers immediate feedback as to how relaxed (or not) you are and also knowing that you're a visitor to these waters.

Throughout our time in Australia, I found myself diving into a few different bodies of water from the ocean to sacred pools. The sacred pools naturally fed by underground springs have been visited by aboriginals since they've walked this earth. It's said that they spray water from their mouths upon entering the pool to alert and ask permission from their ancestors to be there. I love the idea of asking permission of the land, water, air, and elders as it raises a level of consciousness that we don't often experience. Frequently, we stomp and splash our way in without much forethought, so slowing down and entering sacred space with eyes wide open is an inviting practice.

My thought of the week is around what it means to dive in, and it was inspired by a student saying I was "diving straight back into it" as I returned to teaching. In many ways, it hasn't felt like that at all but more like a stepping back into my California world with a sense of doing so slowly and with eyes wide open. I'm trying to carry what I learned from spending the past month immersed in nature, living simply, and exploring my environment.

My husband and I drove over 3100 miles (5100 Km) in just under three weeks and we often drove in silence. Not because we were in conflict or had nothing to say but more that we were simply enjoying being present. We didn't need anything else, whether it was a conversation, an audiobook, or music. Watching the endless roads, fringed by bursts of wildflowers, contrasted by the deep red ocher of the Australian outback was enough. We had many varied spots in which we found to meditate...most often outside overlooking the ocean or a gorge. We listened to the myriad of sounds that come from the natural environment...waves crashing, birds calling, the wind rushing. Each moment had its own unique offering and bursting with reminders of how easy it is to connect to the energy of all that's alive on this earth.

This time away has left me with the lesson to choose how I wish to be living. As I return to the States with the New Moon approaching, the seasons changing, and people returning to the desert, there's a sense of transition and tension. Anytime change happens it's accompanied by a pull of energies, the shift of the status quo. This is the perfect time for introspection and checking-in, prior to a greater possibility of busyness. This is the time that I get to re-create my schedule and think about how many commitments I can make without bankrupting my personal energy budget. I needed the downtime in Australia, the time for personal retreat and relaxation as I hadn't realized how fatigued I had become until I slowed down.

One lesson is to not blindly dive back into how I had been managing my energy prior to my break but to look at it from a place of compassion and consciousness and perhaps, switch things up a bit. I am grateful for the many sunrises and sunsets, for all the whales and dolphins, birds and wildflowers, and for all of those in my Aussie heart tribe. I am grateful to those who remained in the desert to look after our house, the yoga studio, and its participants. And I am most grateful for having the insight to give myself a good chunk of time away. Thanks for the lessons and I will hold the intention of diving back into things with my metaphorical mask and snorkel in place so I can hear my breath and see with clarity.