I actually had this note drafted on time. I planned to wrap up its loose ends on a flight from LA to Hilo, as I embarked on a lucky little trip for my work supporting a friend and teacher’s yoga retreat business. (That work and person deserve their own newsletter, but for now, if your interest was piqued by the last sentence: we’re headed to Costa Rica in April!)
I expected the trip to be lovely, restful, a bit glamorous. Eight thoughtful and successful wellbeing practitioners were coming together to learn about hosting retreats at a luxury center on Hawaii’s big island. We’d be put up in large rooms overlooking the Pacific, eat beautiful food prepared by a private chef. Morning yoga was scheduled on the big, green lanai.
And…it was one of my most challenging weekends in 2022. Everything I thought I’d overcome these past 2 years came screaming to the surface. I sat in our circle of eight and tried to explain how I ended up there. It was impossible. I was there because I do a very little bit of work to support a dear friend, and another dear friend knows this and was kind enough to include me in the journey. I did not belong. Everyone knew this.
Over two days, the insecurities and comparisons became a cacophony. I wanted to be alone, somewhere else, most of the time. I listened to that instinct when I could, defecting to a quiet, jungled corner of the property with my journal, wondering on paper why I felt so totally off-balance.
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