Accidental Sound Journeys, Thieving Bluejays, & How We Feel Alive

The lowest point of my Costa Rica Retreat hit me mid-week.

Dealing with work-related tech glitches on a hot Wednesday afternoon left me agitated. The humidity and mosquitoes were relentless. The gorgeous bluejays were dive-bombing tables and stealing my food. I needed an energetic and powerful yoga sesh to warrior pose my way into a better mood. Shutting my Macbook, I stomped off to the yoga Shala, ready to Namaste my way out of my negative funk.

I expected numerous yogis. I hoped for a challenging, momentous, sweaty sequence.

Nope.

I stormed into the wrong class and after arranging my mat on the floor, was greeted by a serene man with long, bushy grey hair and an equally long grey beard. He was wearing flowy pants; a display of gongs, bells and chimes behind him, and miniature Buddha statues arranged on a colorful sarong on the floor.

Maybe 10 people were lounging on yoga mats, and he asked us to gather around him in a half-circle, rather than line up in rows facing the front.

I wasn’t used to this. How was I going to power-yoga my agitation away in a small circle so close to tinkly, dingy-dong instruments?