The best medicine

beautywalk Sandra Butel coaching yoga laughter Tarang Ashram Rishikesh healing India — *A pause for reflection …* Photo by Francis Marchildon

I am Sandra Butel and this is my beautywalk.

beautywalk is doing my best to remember to laugh and dance and move and listen and connect with other humans whatever the circumstances in which I find myself might be.

Taking a leap

It’s the last day of February - no leaping happening this year, I guess. It’s the first day of our 3 day yoga and meditation and sound healing retreat down by the ice blue Ganga River in Rishikesh. It is mid afternoon now and I find myself all alone for the first moment of pause since we arrived here at 6:15 am this morning in the pitch dark, stumbling a bit with the weight of our fears and our backpacks as we made our way down a steep incline towards something resembling a retreat center.

Trying so hard to get it right

Once I have confirmed that Francis is willing to give a yoga retreat a go, I set myself to the task of finding just the right one. I spend considerable time researching just the right combination of offerings, checking out as many reviews as I can find about the quality of the instruction, accommodations and food before putting in our credit card number by way of a “there’s no going back now,” kind of choice. It takes me weeks of hemming and hawing to filter it down to one of two and there is a niggling feeling in my chest and a voice that keeps saying, “What if you got it wrong, Sandra?” I pause for a gulp of air, my airways seeming not to be able to let the air fully in and another thought fills me with dread, “You finally get him to agree to do a retreat and if it isn’t good he will never want to join you in one again.” Words of caution ring out inside my head again and again, a sense of dread is building in my chest and I feel a pressure in the tops of my shoulders, sure that if I don’t get it right our trip, and the chance for Francis to see why I love yoga so much, will be ruined.

Analysis paralysis

This has been an ongoing struggle for me on this trip. I have taken on the booking of accommodation and day tours as part of my tasks and have found myself, again and again, getting caught in a loop of trying to find the perfect one. Hours have been spent on various apps or on my laptop scrolling through the myriad of possibilities, trying to divine exactly which option is going to bring us the most joy, connection to the best parts of what each place has to offer and maybe even a chance at some relaxation. The process starts out full of promise and I apply myself to the task with all the skills of a well seasoned event manager.

At some point though it turns into an opportunity to prove that ‘I’ve still got it,”; the magic touch to bring joy into the most mundane of experiences. I click the “pay now” button and let myself enjoy the smallest trickle of satisfaction at a job well done before I flush full of self-doubt that I chose the right one. This feeling gets stronger as check in time approaches and adds to the exhaustion that comes with the ins and outs of travel. Packing up our things, putting them on our backs, getting in a cab or plane or train or bus or tuktuk so that we can adjust to another brand new environment takes on the weight of a full time job. There is the time spent in transit, passive and slightly physically uncomfortable with the weight of our bodies testing the ability of the cushion beneath our bums to keep them from falling into slumber. There is the time spent doing our own navigating, making sure that we know when it is time to get off the wheels in motion. There is a sense of “what if something goes wrong?” that takes up way too much space as we move ourselves from the somewhat known to the completely unknown once again.

Unknown darkness

So here I am, in the dark, unsteady on my arthritic, soon to be operated on, right hip, balancing the weight of my worries and my possessions on my back as we head through a red metal gate with a beware of dog sign being the last thing we see before we head into the unknown darkness. I find myself getting testy here, with thoughts of, “What the hell. Where are we? What have I done?” making the digestive juices in my belly work on last night’s dinner, our early departure meaning there has not been time for breakfast. We head down a little lane full of random dips and bits of rock, with cows tied up to the left and a basic dwelling to the left moving our shaky bodies towards the dim light we can see in the distance.

It’ll be fine honey

There is no one around when we stop, putting down our bags and resting our bones onto two rattan chairs under a roof made of bamboo. We notice a large studio, which we imagine is where the yoga will be happening, with mats and props and an image of a body with the chakras printed on it. My skin is prickling with wariness and I am starting to get the sense that this will be one of those times where the pictures were doctored up to make the place look much better than it is. Francis is cheery and keeps saying words of encouragement like “it’ll be fine, honey” and “it will be an experience either way,” that don’t really help the situation. I know he means well and know that most of the pressure I feel for making the “right” choices for where we rest our heads and move our bodies comes from me and not from him but it still feels like he is judging me and my abilities and I am ready to defend myself if needed.

How sure I am of the truth of what I think I am seeing.

How little room there is at this moment with my body and mind in fight or flight mode for it to be other than the way that I have deemed to see it.

How heavy it all feels - this need to relegate experiences to either good or bad with not much in between.

Whatever, whatever

The first step into the retreat comes when we come upon a tall Aussie in the kitchen area who invites us to the back garden for the early morning neti pot ritual. We have been waiting literally 15 minutes but it feels like an eternity. We look at one another for consent, a nod from him and one from me, and we pick up our white plastic neti pot and a bottle of water and follow the Aussie and an American woman who has joined us from somewhere in the early morning darkness. I can hear my late friend John’s voice and see his shoulders shrugging as the words, “Whatever, whatever,” ring out inside my head. Francis turns his head towards me and says, “We are in this now, Sandra. Let’s make the most of it.”

In one side and out the other

I won’t go into all that many details of the process, which involves mixing warm salty water from a kettle with the bottled water until the right temperature has been achieved and then bending ones head to the side with the nozzle of the neti pot sending streams of water into one nostril until it comes out of the other. I am thrown back to childhood and my Dad is telling a story of a friend in University who would take a piece of spaghetti up through one nostril and then suck it in until it fell out the other nostril. There it would be hanging, one side out of the left nostril and the other out of the right one. My Dad was laughing each time he told me about it. Maybe he is watching me now from wherever our loved ones go after they are dead, laughing his head off at his daughter as she tries out new things. It makes me smile to think about it and I bend my head a little deeper to the side and let the water do its work.

Afterwards there is a lot of nose blowing and sniffing and I get the sense that this is just what the doctor ordered. My ears have been plugged for a while now and I wonder if adding this as a daily ritual will be just what is needed to get my head a little clearer. I certainly am no longer thinking about whether or not I have made the right choice of location. It is not that I have decided it is the right place, it is that I am present in the moment of what is going on here and now, no longer giving space to the doubt that only recently had taken over.

Hold for a few seconds

Next up is an hour-long session of Hatha Yoga which mostly involves holding a pose for a long time while the teacher counts very slowly. It might be right leg back and up and left arm forward and up or arms held out to the sides and then he says in a sing-songy voice as he draws out each syllable, “Hold for a few seconds.” We get the gist pretty quickly and wait with breath held too long for him to get to the “and 10 or and 20” that will signal that we can let go of the now shaky position. There are ab and arm and shoulder and leg and breath holding exercises and for a few of them I am able to stay in the hold for as long as he intends. There are times though where my arms grow weary, not having done yoga for the last 8 weeks, or my shoulders or lungs cry out to be given a mini vacation. From time to time I look over at Francis and notice that he too is doing his best, sweat running down his face as he puts on a smile when he notices my curious checking in. There is a pause between repetitions when the teacher looks up at the small group of us gathered there in front of him and says, “Is everyone ok?,” waiting for each of us to reply before moving on to the next position. He adds with a smile, “Well then if you are ok then smile a bit,” to which we sigh and smile all and one together.

Next up is breakfast, a simple vegetarian meal eaten collectively with our new friends with a view to the forest and the river below. Two dogs roam the area, the male Tiger and his paramour Jimmy, news of their two new puppies making my heart sing with the joy of it. I watch Francis get more and more animated as we find someone else besides one another to talk with. We get some insight into the place, the schedule that awaits us for the rest of the day and bits and pieces of details about the lives of the new people gathered all around us.

Meditation and chanting take us down by the river again, our voices ringing out into the relative quiet, the only sounds that disturb us are the collective shouts from the never ending rafts full of Indian tourists who are making their way down the river. A basic anatomy lesson comes on the heels of a divinely inspired sound healing session that resonates within me still.

Not now, I’m busy

The day has been filled so far with laughter and sweat and noses that are dripping, all mixed up with prayers to the universal source for us all to be free of illness and filled with joyous energy. Another yoga session brings more flow and sweat and rejuvenation and soon after we drink a tea that tastes remarkably like apple juice. Then it is time for yoga nidra and time spent lying on the hardness of a floor as shiny as new marble. My legs are the only part of me that fall asleep even though I can hear by Francis’s soft snores beside me that he has taken the teacher’s permission a little bit more literally than me - “Falling asleep during yoga nidra is not a problem.” A little tinge of jealousy tries to come visit me, but I smile softly and say, “Not now, I’m busy.”

Laughing and laughing

The days flow by with a sense of purpose, the time scheduled out from waking to past dinner time with sound healing and chanting and laughter yoga and holding poses to a count that always seems to go on too long no matter what the number. I find to my delight that my heart sings during group chanting and there is a release of sadness so big when laughter is the end game. How delightful it is to stand in a circle under the shade of green trees beside the sound of the rushing river as we laugh our heads off with crazy antics. I especially enjoy the part of the exercise where the teacher asks each of us to revel in our own particular way of laughing and gets the rest of us to join in. What a variety of ways our bodies can express our mirth, and the teacher reminds us that our spirit doesn’t know the difference between ‘real’ laughter or that which we fabricate.

What joy there is in raising our voices in the repetition of the latest chant. Voices and breaths rising and falling and trying so hard to make out what letter makes up the Sanskrit words the teacher is singing. What joy there is in his face, his white teeth that he shows so often with a big hearted smile as he quietly looks at each one of us so deeply. How lovely it is that he sees us all and that he pauses to point out a particularity in each of us, like the sole Indian student, Avrish, whose laughter is whole hearted, head thrown back and so full of joy. My throat is sore after laughter yoga, like I have been shouting for hours and hours, my vocal chords hoarse with the effort. My heart and body are light and I feel as if I could sleep soundly and without waking for hours and hours.

Sound heals the heart

It is the addition of sound healing sessions at Tarang Yoga Ashram that ultimately made me choose this retreat over all the other options and these sessions do not disappoint. In the last offering of good vibes from our 3 day experience, under the guidance of the sound healer, Ranvijai, I find myself drifting off into a different type of consciousness. My body is relaxed and my heart is wide open. I am no longer worrying about the future or wondering if I made the right choice. There is a period of time where the whole space inside my mind fills up with colours so vibrant and brilliant they can only have been made in India. Purples and pinks and greens and yellows and whites that wash over me with such love and such healing.

With thanks

What a blessing it has been to spend a few days focusing energy on my body, mind and spirit and rejoicing in all the beauty and connection that our lives have to offer us. How silly all the judgments and trepidation seem to me now and how much my view of the space around me has transformed in just a few days of focused instruction.

As several of the teachers intoned at the end of one or another of our sessions, “With thanks to my parents and to my teachers, for all that they have given to me.”

May we all pause long enough to see the vibrant light inside ourselves and one another and may we rejoice in all that we have been given.

I am Sandra Butel and this is my beautywalk. What’s yours?

Resources for Further Study and Personal Growth

If you are interested in getting yourself to a yoga retreat there are so many amazing teachers and yoga centres out there. I did my sleuthing on Book Yoga Retreats, a website that pulls a whole bunch of different options together for you to choose from. If you find yourself in Rishikesh and are ready for an authentic retreat experience you can’t go wrong with Tarang Yoga Ashram. They have many great teachers and offer up a full day schedules of different types of yoga for you to try.
You don’t have to travel all the way to India to experience some life changing yogic experiences with amazing teachers like Fiji McAlpine and David Procyshyn at places like the incorporable Hollyhock on Cortes Island, BC or the more exotic Mexican seaside resort, Mar de Jade.
I am here with my steady presence, my ever improving listening skills and my Professional Coach Certification (PCC) from the International Coaching Federation to be of assistance to you in your own journey of finding your way from a place of fear and judgment to a place of peace and an open heart. I have over 500 hours of experience working with clients and am sure that the time we spend together will bring immense value to us both.

For a free consultation with me all you have to do is book yourself into my calendar. We will spend some time getting to know one another and by the end of the 75 minutes it will be clear if a coaching relationship with me is what is needed in your life right now. There is no pressure here to buy, simply an offer from someone who has been through a whole lot of challenges and come out the other side. A little stronger, a little more humble, a little more ready to lend an ear.

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