|
Hello Reader, As I sat in the tram on the way to Scheveningen from The Hague Central station, looking out the window, my vision was filled with green trees, red poppies and the abundant summer wild flowers bursting out of every nook and cranny that was not paved or tarred. It was the first blue sky day since I arrived and everything felt abundant and ripe with potential. Despite my deep sadness and the knots in my stomach, I smiled, appreciating that beauty can soften that which feels hard. You see, I was on my to say a final goodbye to a dearest friend whose time had come to an end after a long journey with cancer. This was not my first experience of loss and grief. I have had to say goodbye to more people than I wish to remember. And this threshold between breath and stillness that I have come to know well, has had many faces to it. It can come about suddenly and with shock. It can come like a shadow that darkens all your days. It can be filled with fear and bravery at the same time. It can be lonely even when surrounded by people. It can linger as you wait for the inevitable, unsure of when it will arrive. And as I learned this time, it can also be enveloped in love, met with certainty and multitudes of embracing arms. In a cosy apartment, about 20 of us filled the space. Sharing stories of good times spent together. Sharing words of appreciation and love. When the time came, final hugs and kisses. Well wishes for the return journey back to Source. Tears and comfort in community. In the inevitability of breathing one's last breath, it was a beautiful way to say farewell. Coming back home afterwards I took a good amount of time to just rest, giving my body, mind and heart space to make sense of what I had experienced and shared in. Afternoon naps, comforting food, daily movement, yoga nidra, reading and snuggles filled my days. Until I felt energy moving up through system again and surrendering to a gentle opening of my heart once more. This time was a potent reminder of how tending to ourselves with rest, care and tenderness can be so medicinal whatever we are navigating. I had planned this event before I went on this trip and ended up having to extend my dates back by week. But more than before I feel so inspired to be holding this experience for those who can attend and wish replenish their own capacity. Whatever you have going on at the moment, if you feel called to make some space for yourself, please join me for Replenish in Windhoek next weekend. A soothing Sunday afternoon to fill your cup and take pause. I’m keeping this a small intimate group so you can have all the blankets, props and hands on support your body may need. It’s all there, no need to bring anything. Limited spaces available and a few already taken. Want to join? Simply click the button below or reply to this email.
With love, beauty and appreciation, Liezl |
I'm a yoga teacher and trainer sharing somatic & reflective practices that cultivate right relationship between body, mind and heart to live in felt wholeness.
Hello Reader, I have been on the quiet side here for the last few weeks. From completing assignments for a year long course that wrapped up, to dipping my toes back into photography, teaching on another round of yoga teacher training, navigating some big business shifts with my partner, navigating school holidays with a toddler, taking up knitting... To experiencing an inner spring and budding. And now, getting ready to travel to bid farewell to a dear friend in his last weeks of palliative...
Hello Reader, You might know me mostly as a yoga teacher (or maybe you are getting to know me now). I love that practice deeply, 23 years in and it still teaches me something everyday. My love for yoga was always multi-faceted, but part of it was the exploration of self-mastery through discipline and focus of the mind cultivated from the body up. Raja yoga suited that. But then after my daughter was born, I needed something more primal. A container that could hold both my sacred expression...
Hello Reader, Your body is absolutely extraordinary. Can you feel it? It carries you through everything. Through sinking grief. Through expansive joy. Through unsettling uncertainty. Through anchoring love. Through the ambling mundane tasks of a Tuesday morning. The depths and the stillness that punctuate your aliveness. It’s all experienced through the body. But sometimes in the rhythm of daily life, we lose this connection to feeling our way through. The aliveness gets a little muted. We...