coffee

I have fond, dear memories of enjoying an americano at fiori, victrola, or herkimer...but here at kripalu and in western masachusetts in general coffee is not part of my daily practice. Well, today a friend and I travelled off campus and headed out to a sweet little cafe in town called Haven. Here we spent the morning and afternoon enjoying each other's company, our computers and a new wonderful knitting project. We also enjoyed our signature espresso beverages...and I went from calm to goofy in a few short hours, sips really. I have never been more aware of how much the caffeine in coffee effects me - except of course in old JFS days when I would run down stairs and Adam and Laura - would somehow know I just finished my morning cup of coffee;)

I think I am going to run off this coffee before I settle into an evening of conscious communication.

Sweet Sweet Apple Pie

Living here at Kripalu I often feel grateful, spoiled, luxurious, well fed, well stretched and well hugged. All the best parts of home are now my daily practice. If I were to miss anything in particular, beyond my dear, dear friends, it would have to be what we often do together...preparing delicious food.

Last weekend, my sweet friend Christopher and I left our warm, full home of Hill House and headed off to his folks place. We slept in a bed with out a bunk and instead of watching a movie with 15 other friends it was just the two of us. Saturday morning we woke up and prepared our own breakfast, picked some tart apples from the trees behind their house and make pies and soup. It was lovely, and sweet, with music playing, and warm greek coffee to drink. It reminded me of home, of our brunches, ladies dinners, of Jo's muffins, or of times when the 3 of us would gather around the dining room table for a meal. It was sweet and slow. The time we spent on Saturday, just the two of us, reminded me of brunches when you all show up, or many of you show up. Another day of quiet bliss here in the Berkshires reminded me of you.

cycling

Over this past year I have really enjoyed cycling and have fallen in love with my bike. The last couple of Saturdays my new buddy Chris and I have left our home of yoga and mindfulness practice to cycle through the winding hills of western Massachusetts. Instead of having a few huge hills to climb, the roads here have many, many, long, winding hills. After a 6:30 am yoga class, and a 30 mile bike ride it is definitely time for an americano or two at rubi's

visitors

Alex and Abigail, buds from my Ithaca College days came up to visit this week. It was such a great visit and a huge reason why I am happy to be back on the east coast ~ love you guys!

hills

Kripalu, is in an old Jesuit monastery, now the largest yoga center in North America. It overlooks the Stockbridge Bowl, a glacier-carved lake in the mountains where you can swim and kayak between yoga and massages.


Excited to be surrounded by the mountains I spent the week practicing yoga in the early mornings, and inquiring about all the wonderful trails in the area, hoping to head out to the mountains on my days off. While they are called mountains, they are so old that they’ve turned into little hills, and hikes turn into walks in the woods. Instead of charging on up, sweating and breathing heavy, I spent the last two days embracing slow meditative walk along a path, the trees small, the moss bright green, the water cold, and the leaves beginning to turn from green to yellow, gold, orange, and red.

Here are pictures of Ice Glen and Alander Mt. Trail.

wings in buffalo

I had the most lovely, wonderful time this weekend seeing dear, dear friends from Ithaca College. J.P. Midgley and his partner Liz got married and friends flew in and drove in from San Francisco, Portland, Boston, Ithaca, and Albany. I always have a blast with these kids and now so many of them are in relationships and we all got to meet their special ladies. Couldn’t be happier.

the groom

the bride

all the college buds

we laugh

alex and i are unstoppable

luggage

Over this past year I have carried many bags. Traveling to and through out Columbia then Ecuador, on toward Peru, and brief few days in Bolivia I carried my Mac pack, I also carried bags away from my home stay and my temporary homes with the Palomino’s and with Erin for short visits and long walks. Along that journey I carried joy and freedom, and sadness and frustration, I carried sunsets and ceviche, feelings of love and feelings of emptiness. I carried many, many dear friends in my heart, and silly stories in my head to dip into, to hold, and to be held by throughout my time away. I even picked up a bag or two, I am hoping to put it down soon.

I returned to Seattle in July. I found myself packing bags. I packed a few things in a small bag from a relatively brief encounter and I packed a bag I’d been packing all year, I packed up my job with fun and fashionable ladies, packed up the heat, the silliness, and the stability, comfort, and ease of a radish. I opened my home to strangers soon to be friends and packed up my belongings to be visited again in January. I found myself packing strength along with my favorite blue shirt, a knitting project Noah may receive in time for his next birthday, and my bicycle (Adam is rad).

I thought of jumping ship in San Francisco but traveled on to Braintree. And here is where inspiration struck. I was hoping to switch bags here, maybe trade some in, leave some thing’s behind I may no longer need. I found the hugest suitcase I had left there from 1999. At the time I had gotten it for a 3 1/2 month trip I took my sophomore year of college, my father tells me I carried additional bags with me. I had so many. I’m glad to see that I have since learned to pack less and to carry less.

I am here at Kripalu, with smaller bags than 10 years ago. Here, I hope to leave with even smaller bags, maybe more clothes, but smaller bags.