Let the beauty you love be what you do.

There are thousands of ways to kneel and kiss the earth. ~Rumi

I completed the EXPRESSIVE module of my advanced teacher training last week then promptly headed to my favorite place in the world: Crested Butte, Colorado. It was a combination that left my soul feeling alive. My heart overflowing with joy. My body utterly grateful.

Although I always leave a little piece of my heart and soul in the mountains–down Gothic Road near Paradise Divide, to be precise–I seem to come back a bit fuller. There is nothing like the blue bird skies, crisp mountain air and magnificent peaks to help me stop, breathe and press the reset button.

While at training, we were encouraged to tap into our creative side. Into our imagination. To take risks. To be honest with ourselves. After reading the Sufi poets–Hafiz, Rumi, Kabir, etc– we were encouraged to write on our own. Since I was young I have always loved writing. I even audited a poetry writing class in college. Unlike my dancing and choreography, I rarely shared my writing. If nothing else, this training has inspired me to reconnect with my inner poet and has given me the courage to share the words in my heart outloud. Perhaps this is my new choreography. A dance of letters across a page. Here are two of the poems I wrote last week in “Bhakti style”.

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Who am I —

the hum of the furnace at night

laying on the soft, wooden floor

listening, absorbing.

What is a prayer–

the whisper of the wind in the trees

the cold, damp earth under my feet.

grounding. embracing.

I don’t understand–

the unconditional love of a mother

the raw joy of a child in play

compelling. enduring.

Kristin–

sometimes the most important prayers do not have answers

but rather are moments dripping with love.

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Come to where you hear the voice of truth

perhaps when your own heart speaks,

but are you really listening?

 

Home is not a moment of arrival

and truth is not always eloquent.

It is love the heart never forgets.

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Thank you for reading ❤

Peace, Love and namaste,

Kristin