Written by Page Bishop Freer
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Like many people, I have trouble turning off the constant current of thoughts and worries. Blame it on the modern demand for multitasking, or maybe the curse of being a writer—I am so often thinking of the next step or the final product of what I’m experiencing—that I neglect to fully enjoy the experience itself. The remedy: a growing concept known as mindfulness, or living fully in the moment.
So, the first weekend in July, I headed to Yogaville to unplug, regroup and find that thing called mindfulness. Just three days prior, I’d sprung the question on my husband: “Would you care if I went to a yoga retreat this weekend, alone?” Assuming he’d shoot down the idea faster than a clay pigeon on a clear day, I was surprised by his one-word reply—“Go.” Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who recognized that I needed a break.
After checking in at the main hall, I walked to the women’s dormitory to unpack. No phone. No laptop. No magazines. No makeup. Just a yoga mat and clothes, a pair of yellow TOMS, a water bottle and a few basic toiletries.
My fellow retreaters had come from different cities and for different reasons. My roommate, Delise, a psychologist from Fredericksburg, Va., faced a major decision relating to her practice. Reed, an executive from North Carolina, was confronting his self-doubt as he prepared to launch a new business in the wake of a failed one. Sandy, a single 30-something, also from North Carolina, wanted to open her heart to the possibility of love. I soon realized that I wasn’t there solely for the purpose of unwinding for a few days. It ran deeper than that. I wanted to know, am I living the life I want to live? Am I on the right path?
Three days of yoga and meditation practice allowed the opportunity to slow down, decompress and reconnect with myself. I left feeling more balanced, refreshed and with a renewed sense of purpose. Other people have noticed the change, too, and I am already contemplating another retreat.
We spend our lives learning, striving, analyzing, achieving. We’re taught that time spent not doing is wasted, unproductive time. But, as our meditation guide noted, the mind is like a puddle. The more we stir, the cloudier it becomes; only when we stop stirring, does it become clear. And when our waters are perfectly still, we can see to the very bottom, to the core of who we are.
As I pulled away from the Ashram on Sunday afternoon, and wished Yogaville a silent goodbye, I knew I was on the right path. I was headed home.