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I’ve been reflecting on how much I enjoy learning from unexpected sources.
I first discovered Benjamin Zander, a conductor, master teacher, world-class speaker and author in 2014. Interestingly, a few months after I’d finished my initial yoga teacher training, eager to explore new beginnings and possibilities.
I was captivated by his TED talk The Transformative Power of Classical Music and have watched it several times over the years, each time finding greater depth and appreciation for the message I love to be reminded of.
Today I found another layer. Maybe due to Covid. As the world begins to open up, it has taken me a while to shake off a more restrictive, habitual way of being. I’ve got used to a certain pace and routine that felt predictable and safe.
Benjamin shook that up.
As the sun reached its highest point in the Northern Hemisphere on 21st June, marking the longest day of the year, the start of summer reminds us there is hope in the world.
A triumph of light over dark.
With that in mind, I’m delighted to share a retreat I’ve been looking forward to hosting for a whole year and is now possible. A wonderful extension to summer, it has been created to support and inspire you.
I shared this message with my email subscribers recently and given the response, I’m sharing here in case you’re experiencing profound levels of change at the moment.
Have you noticed how many things seem to take more energy than we imagine?
If you’re undergoing difficult transitions, I was thinking that you could use a hug today and hoping this life message will find a way to reach you.
I’m sharing a self-care practice with you that is beautifully adaptable to the seasons as well as life’s challenges and goals. A compass point to come back to especially when you’re feeling depleted, insecure, or challenged by the unknown.
As I write this, we’ve just had a few blissful, unexpected days of sunshine. It was easy to sit up and notice the early mornings becoming lighter, delicate snowdrops peeking through the hard winter soil and the sound of birdsong all around.
It didn’t last long and by the weekend, the skies had clouded over, reminding us that we’re still in winter.
It is a winter wonderland outside as I write this. We no longer have darkness at night in Luzern but a gentle, hazy glow that beckons me to look outside just one more time if I’m restless and not sleeping. I love the silence that a blanket of snow brings, an invitation to pause, to breathe and rest in the moment. This is the romantic version that I’m appreciating today. Last week began differently.