The pea caught me by surprise -- Vis, Croatia

This week has been easy-going, but terribly time consuming. Teaching four classes a day, socializing with guests, helping out with meals and going on excursions has left me very little space for me. 

During the rare moments I'm not occupied with the above, I'm researching routines, brushing up on my sanskrit or reading through my guided meditations book. 

I wish I had the time to be writing my own meditations. 

It's been nearly two weeks since my last morning walk. For the second retreat, I taught yoga at six every morning, guided meditation at seven fifteen and begrudgingly took Domagoj's class at eight thirty. In the afternoon, would teach yoga at three, take yoga at four fifteen and lead meditation at six pm.

I had very little time to myself.

This retreat, I teach meditation at seven fifteen and then yoga at eight thirty. Mornings are taken up by things I absolutely love, but mornings (while traveling, anyway) have generally been my time for me.

Because no one else likes mornings the way I do.

I've lost my mornings --

-- and I miss them.

This week has absolutely flown by.

"Can you believe it's already Friday?" I ask Jurate.

"No," Jurate confirms. "Where has the week gone?"

 I've been moving far too quickly.

And I don't like it.

No walking barefoot. No time to feel the ground.

I wonder how many bumblebees I've squashed. 

I'm beginning to notice that the only times wherein I'm truly unhappy are the times wherein I'm moving too quickly. 

Too mindlessly.

Too linearly.

I had a few precious moments yesterday afternoon to gather a bouquet of wildflowers.

Complete with butterfly and wild pea.

But I didn't have time to watch the butterfly.

And the pea caught me by surprise.

How did that little guy get there?

Today is the last day of the third retreat. I will spend week four with Milda and Mario and Jurate (sweet, beautiful girl) in Split.

I will recharge my yoga batteries and return to complete my fourth week of retreat with yoga vengeance.

Which looks a lot like mindfulness mixed with loving-kindness --

-- in my yoga book. 

My week with Domagoj taught me a lot. I didn't learn what I expected to learn, but when I said, "thank-you for everything you taught me," before he walked to the ferry, I certainly meant it.

I use these words in my yoga classes:

"Feel what your body feels. That sounds silly, but it's so often that we ignore the body. That we disregard our feelings. Accept how you feel in your physical body, your emotional body, your mental body. Explore how you feel. You can only enjoy feelings you accept. You can only change feelings you accept. How do you feel in this moment?"

I emphasize over and over and over again that the practice is theirs. That their practice does not belong to me or to anyone else.

And nobody needs to know who my teacher was. 

Although sometimes Jurate and I make jokes about how we are students of Domagoj, who was a student of Mark Whitwell who was a student of Desikachar who was a student of Krishnamacharya.

We sound very biblical when we do so.