We wake up early each morning and walk by first light to the dining area for a cup of coffee or tea on the beach. The sound of the waves are a constant. The birds are waking up. The roosters crow. We walk across the sand to the humble yoga temple and leave our flip flops outside the door. We enter into the candle lit room for morning practice of pranayama, meditation and chanting. We breathe in the sacred. The sun begins to light up the sky and we can see the ocean change colors from deep midnight blue to azure as the day breaks and we move into our asana practice. 3 hours of practice in community each morning does something to the soul. It opens us up and brings us back in. Into ourselves. And our bellies growl and it's a good thing that there's breakfast! Delicious breakfast prepared by the most lovely staff. And then the day is to each her own, until we gather again before dinner for restorative practice.

Then the next day, we'll do it again. And the day after, again. And for seven days we are in sangha together. Dropping in deeper and deeper each day. The result is different for each of us. For me, it's calming and restorative. It's strengthening and softening.











I co-teach this annual retreat with my dear friend and long time mentor, Thomas Fortel. And since I've been coming to Yelapa for over 20 years, it's like home and place of refuge for me.

Yelapa is a unique place accessible only by boat so there are no cars. A Pueblo of 2000 or so of full time residents, it still retains the authentic beauty of Mexico.

With everyone traveling on foot, there is a sense of humanness -- both in pace and status -- to everyone, locals and gringos alike. I am struck each year as I take my daily walk up the river from our oceanside hotel how small children and older people alike look me in the eye and say,  "hola, buenos tardes” as we pass each other on the foot paths. It feels like “namaste,” or “I see you.”

Yelapa reminds me of my summer home of Haines, Alaska in some ways. Similar population and both of unique beauty. And also there's that sense of creativity and wildness with everyone always tinkering with their land and structures always in process. The sense of a deep connection to the land -- a grounded feeling that comes from living so close to the natural world.

I give thanks for the opportunity to share the rich practices of yoga in the land of Yelapa, where the jungle and river pour down to the ocean and where we can remember the importance of immersing in nature, slowing down, breathing deeply and letting ourselves move at a human pace. 

Wishing you well and I hope to see you soon,

Sarana



      saranayoga.com