
This weekend, I went on my first yoga retreat. There were so many themes brought up over two days in the mountains that I couldn’t wait to bring back here, and I plan on teasing these out over several posts. (It’s just too juicy to smash into one!) But it makes the most sense to start at the beginning.
Before my sister and I drove up the crazy steep incline to a small guest house nestled at the top of a mountain, we received an email from the weekend’s teachers. They asked us to pause in our lives to ask ourselves: What is unfolding within you this spring? How can you nourish and cultivate those tender, tiny sprouts?
Isn’t it funny how it so often takes someone else to ask us to reflect for us to actually do it? We go from moment to moment in our lives, seamlessly moving from one thought, one action, one task to the next. At its best, life can move along smoothly like this, and at its worst, we can feel like automatons, going through the motions of our days without any heart or mindfulness.
I think this is why so many of us turn to our favorite wise souls for their blogs and books. These outside influences serve as a reminder to check in with our hearts and see what needs tending there: what do I want in my life? How can I support that desire today, tomorrow, this week, this year?

It would be lovely to have a practice of checking in with ourselves. For many of us, this is what yoga and journaling are often about. But even our regular soul-filled practices can become routine, and then we might need to fully step out of our lives to bring new attention to our intentions. I went to the top of a mountain in Massachusetts with wood stoves, wide windows, and a view that made my heart sing. There, two teachers broke my heart wide open, and I could see each little seedling growing within me, tiny green shoots of what I most value, who I love, and how I can live to best support all of that.
Retreating from the hum and buzz of our lives every now and then feels essential, but you don’t have to go to the top of a mountain to make it happen. You might walk up to the park and sit on a bench in the sun for a full hour with your eyes closed, just feeling the sweet warmth. Or close the door to the bedroom, light a candle, and give yourself the space and time to sit with what’s growing within you. And luckily, we have these friends on the internet to prod us with questions, give us the spark of creativity and desire to flourish that makes us want to answer over and over again: what is unfolding within me this spring?