Sometimes you have a white canvas and you are not sure what to paint on it. Sometimes you have a white piece of paper and you don’t know what to write on it.
Back in December, I went to a meditation training course at Kripalu. Kripalu is located in Massachusetts it’s just about 3-hour ride from New Jersey. The ride there in the winter is beautiful, you get to see how nature goes through its changes by always smiling back with its results.
The training took part during a weekend, so I drove up on a Friday afternoon. I remember how as the sun was going down, the roads I had to take became narrower. I had to pay more attention to my GPS and the voice of the English man that was giving me directions. Yes, I choose that voice within the GPS settings.
As I sit in my kitchen, writing this, and drinking from my cup of coffee, I remember that as I was getting close to the place, there were zig-zagged roads, and the fields were covered in snow. The houses looked like decorations placed on top of the fields. I take another sip of coffee and I remember that when I arrived at the place, what marveled me the most, where the clear skies. The sky was covered with stars and the air was cold and crispy. For my luck, it didn’t feel that cold that night.
As I entered Kripalu, you could feel the ‘old school’ yoga feeling. It wasn’t like walking into a ‘hip’ studio, it felt like you were walking into a place where knowledge had been imparted for many decades.
As I write this, I have to bring you back into the present time since I have a morning yoga class to go to, but I will continue telling the story on my next post.