A few words before I start this post.
My heart and prayers go out to all those affected by the rage of the Earth recently. I hope it stands as a warning to change the way we are living and promote connection to ourselves and the Earth. Protecting our most vulnerable and listening to the needs of our mother is where we will find hope, collectively we can bring relief to those in need, the Earth and ourselves. Nothing is separate. We all exist because of and in relationship with, the other.
As some of you will know, I am spending September in Rhodes, at the wonderful Rhodes Yoga Experience. I have been here for a week so far, enjoying the Mediterranean sunshine and Island life in all its glory.
I would like to share with you something I wrote in my journal earlier today:
It’s 1pm, I have just been dancing with the waves. This morning when I came to the Ocean it was so calm, the calmest I have ever experienced. I have never truly understood the term ‘the water was like glass’ until today. Even as I swam far away from the shore I could still see the bottom.
It makes me smile thinking about the difference between the Mediterranean Sea and the water I was living next to this time last year, the Pacific Ocean. I never swam far away from shore then for fear of giant waves and deadly sea creatures. Sometimes the water was so turbulent all I could do was sit on the sand, watching the waves and admiring the ocean in all her magnificence.
Here, I swim every morning. My bed is perfectly positioned so the morning sun comes through my balcony window and shines right where I am sleeping – my natural alarm clock. I get up, put on something to swim in, brush my teeth and head down to the water, before breakfast, and before the other tourists wake up.
The only other people at the beach are a collection of elderly local men. They are already in the water when I arrive, with just their bronzed faces and white hair visible, nattering to each other in Greek. They make me imagine some kind of brown and white Mediterranean seagulls enjoying their morning swim. I say good morning as I swim past, saturating my entire body with salt water and sunshine, easing my way into the day.
I spend about 45 minutes on the beach – this includes swimming, reading and a short meditation – before grabbing my morning coffee at The Cake Box, and heading home to work. I have set up a workspace in a shady corner of the garden, under a huge tree with decadent pink flowers. Fallen leaves and petals cover the dusty floor, and the two dogs that live here settle by my feet as write, making me feel completely at home.
Unless I have something exciting planned – like a Sunrise paddle with Paddle Paradise – I tend to spend my days swimming, writing, stretching, creating and in conversation. I believe these to be the finest things in life. I realise that I thrive in a simple existence, away from rush of the city streets, in a place where my mind is free to wander with my quiet observation and guidance.
I still have much of the Island left to explore, but so far I have paddled at sunrise in Stegna, hitchhiked to Lindos, and cycled along the coast to Rodos. Each place has a different kind of magic and energy, one that in my experience, only comes with being surrounded by water.
I am blessed with the ability to explore and to live a life of sunshine and sweetness, and I have learnt to give thanks by never asking for more than what I need.