What We Pour Into One Another: Reflections From a Women’s Yoga Retreat

There are moments when you get to look around at your life and realize that something has quietly come full circle.

This weekend was one of those moments for me.

A few months ago, Dylan, a student of mine for nearly a decade, asked if I would come teach at a women’s yoga retreat she was hosting with her business partner and soul sister, Miranda, through The Shift + Yoga Okoboji.

Immediately, I felt so honored.

But there was something deeper underneath the invitation that I don’t think I fully understood until I was actually there.

Because I remember Dylan walking into my teacher training all those years ago.

She was so young. So adorable. So eager and hungry to learn. There was something about her from the beginning that made me feel like my little sister had somehow found her way home.

And over the years, our relationship has taken on so many different shapes.

Teacher and student.

Students together.

Friends.

Sisters.

Women navigating life.

Business owners figuring it out as we go.

Teachers continuing to learn how to teach.

Humans continuing to learn how to be human.

And now, all these years later, I got to walk into a retreat that she had helped create.

I got to be her guest.

I got to watch her lead.

I got to learn from her.

I got to teach inside of something she and Miranda had dreamed into existence.

And maybe most importantly, I got to receive.

When the Student Becomes the Teacher

There is something incredibly moving about watching someone you once taught step fully into her own expression.

Not becoming you.

Not teaching like you.

Not recreating what you gave her.

But taking everything she has learned from all of her teachers, her experiences, her practices, her mistakes, her life, and allowing it to become something entirely her own.

That is what I got to witness this weekend.

Dylan and Miranda created something so beautiful.

Miranda has this incredibly grounding, nurturing presence. The best way I know how to describe her is as this warm, motherly, Lakshmi kind of human. There is an abundance to the way she cares for people. A softness. A steadiness.

And together, the two of them created a container that felt intentional without feeling rigid, beautiful without feeling performative, and nourishing without asking anything from us in return.

Every detail had been considered.

The food.

The practices.

The spaces.

The little comforts.

The rhythms of the weekend.

The incredible nature surrounding us in Okoboji.

It was stunning.

But more than that, it felt like we were being cared for.

And I realized how much I needed that.

My Only Responsibility Was to Share What I Love

One of the most beautiful parts of the weekend was realizing that I didn’t have to hold it all.

I wasn’t responsible for the schedule.

I wasn’t responsible for the meals.

I wasn’t responsible for making sure everyone had what they needed or anticipating what came next.

Dylan and Miranda had already created the container.

My only responsibility was to come in and share my love of yoga.

That was it.

And what a gift that was.

I taught a fusion Kundalini experience centered around the sacred cycles of the moon, the seasons and the body, weaving together movement, breath, meditation, energy and the wisdom of cycles.

So much of what I have been exploring, studying and teaching lately is rooted in this understanding that we are not meant to exist at one speed or in one energetic state all of the time.

The moon waxes and wanes.

The seasons bloom, ripen, release and rest.

Our bodies move through their own cycles of expansion and contraction, energy and depletion, expression and introspection.

Nature does not ask spring to behave like winter.

It does not ask the moon to remain full.

And yet, as humans, especially as women, we so often expect ourselves to remain endlessly available, productive, expressive and full.

There was something incredibly powerful about exploring this together through Kundalini.

To lead these women through breath and movement.

To feel the energy in the room shift.

To watch them turn inward.

To share the magic of Kundalini in a way that felt embodied, accessible and connected to the rhythms already moving through their lives.

It reminded me how much I love this practice.

And how much I love sharing it.

There are moments when I’m teaching where I can almost feel everything else disappear. The planning, the business, the logistics, the thousand tiny pieces that surround being a teacher and business owner all fall away, and what remains is simply the practice and the people in front of me.

This was one of those moments.

I felt so honored to lead these women.

So honored that Dylan and Miranda trusted me with a piece of the experience they had created.

And so grateful that my contribution to the weekend could simply be this:

Come. Teach. Share what you love.

And then, when it was over, I got to put the teacher role down again.

I got to become a student.

I got to receive.

Step Into Stillness

The retreat was called Step Into Stillness, and somehow the weekend seemed to conspire with that intention.

The weather wasn’t necessarily what someone might call “perfect retreat weather.”

It was hazy. Cool. Somewhere in the 60s.

Would paddleboarding under a bright blue sky have been beautiful?

Absolutely.

Would yoga on the deck with warm sunshine pouring over us have been dreamy?

Of course.

But looking back, I wouldn’t change it.

The weather seemed to pull us inward.

It invited sweaters and blankets and warm food.

It made everything feel a little cozier.

A little quieter.

A little less about doing and a little more about simply being there.

It was exactly what it needed to be.

Maybe that is part of stillness too.

Releasing the picture of what something is supposed to look like long enough to experience what is actually happening.

We Need This as Women

At opening ceremony of the retreat, we were asked why we were there.

One woman said something so simple that it has stayed with me:

“Because we need this as women.”

Yes.

We do.

We need to be with other women.

We need spaces where we can retreat from the constant tending, producing, organizing, mothering, teaching, working, planning, remembering and holding.

We need places where someone else makes the food.

Where someone tells us where to put our mat.

Where we can sit quietly beside another woman without needing to explain ourselves.

Where we can laugh.

Cry.

Move.

Eat.

Sleep.

Learn.

Talk.

Be quiet.

Be cared for.

There is something deeply human about women gathering this way, and something that reaches far beyond the modern wellness retreat.

Women have gathered together for generations.

Around fires.

Around food.

During birth.

During grief.

During transitions.

In kitchens and homes, in circles and ceremonies, in moments both sacred and completely ordinary.

We have taught one another, tended to one another, witnessed one another and carried wisdom between generations.

Maybe that is part of why being together can feel so familiar.

Something in us remembers.

I Remembered Why I Love Yoga

This weekend reminded me why I fell in love with yoga in the first place.

Not because of the poses.

Not because of the classes.

Not because of the certifications or trainings or studios or businesses that can eventually grow around it.

I love yoga because it continues to bring me back into relationship.

With my body.

With nature.

With myself.

With other people.

With something larger than myself.

And I love teaching because I love sharing the practices that have changed me and watching other people discover what those practices might awaken within them.

Teaching Kundalini this weekend reminded me of that in such a visceral way.

There is something extraordinary about sharing a practice you deeply believe in and then watching it become someone else’s experience.

I can offer the breath.

I can offer the movement.

I can offer the philosophy, the meditation, the invitation.

But then the practice belongs to them.

That is the magic.

And this weekend also reminded me that I deeply love being a student.

Maybe especially now.

There is such freedom in putting down the responsibility of knowing.

Of not always being the person holding the room.

Of rolling out my mat and allowing someone else to guide me.

Of listening.

Receiving.

Learning.

Being surprised.

Being cared for.

After so many years of teaching, I never want to lose my willingness to be taught.

My Cup Was Emptier Than I Realized

I talk about filling your own cup all the time.

I teach it.

I believe it.

I encourage other women to do it.

And somewhere along the way, I forgot just how necessary it actually is.

I didn’t realize how badly I needed an entire weekend where almost nothing was required of me.

I gifted myself the time to stay for the whole retreat, rather than swooping in to teach my class and heading home.

And that choice was a gift.

For one small portion of the weekend, I got to step forward and lead.

And for the rest of it, I got to let myself be held.

I let myself eat the beautiful food.

Take the classes.

Talk to the women.

Be outside.

Rest.

Receive.

Listen.

Laugh.

Learn.

I didn’t have to create the experience.

I got to experience it.

And somewhere between all of those tiny moments, I could feel myself coming back online.

Not in a dramatic way.

In a quiet one.

I left feeling refreshed.

Reconnected.

Nourished.

Inspired.

Motivated.

My cup feels full again.

And now I understand, again, why we cannot endlessly pour from ourselves without also allowing ourselves to be filled.

Receiving is not separate from giving.

It is part of the same rhythm.

Maybe that is another sacred cycle.

Pour out.

Receive.

Create.

Rest.

Teach.

Learn.

Hold.

Be held.

The Beauty of Women Together

One of my favorite parts of the weekend was simply watching the relationships around me.

Mothers and daughters.

Sisters.

Best friends.

Women arriving alone and leaving connected.

Women in different seasons of life sharing meals, practices, conversations and quiet moments together.

It made me incredibly excited for the future.

Because women are extraordinary.

And when we create spaces where women feel safe enough to soften, curious enough to learn, supported enough to rest and free enough to be themselves, something changes.

Not because we become someone completely new over the course of a weekend.

Sometimes we simply remember who was underneath all the noise.

A Love Letter to Dylan + Miranda

Dylan and Miranda, thank you.

Thank you for inviting me into what you are creating.

Thank you for trusting me to share something I love so deeply.

Thank you for giving me the space to bring Kundalini, sacred cycles, the moon, the seasons and the wisdom of the body into this beautiful weekend.

Thank you for allowing me to teach.

And thank you for allowing me to simply be for the rest of it.

Thank you for feeding us, caring for us, making us cozy, creating beauty around us and giving us permission to slow down.

And Dylan, there really aren’t words for what it feels like to have known you for this many years and to witness you now.

To remember the young woman who walked into that first 200-hour yoga teacher training and then stand inside a retreat you helped create...

What a gift.

What a full-circle moment.

I love you. I am so proud of you.

I love what you and Miranda are creating through The Shift + Yoga Okoboji. I love that you are bringing yoga, community, depth and meaningful experiences into smaller communities. I love that you are showing that these spaces of connection and practice do not only belong in faraway retreat destinations or big cities.

Yoga belongs here too.

Community belongs here.

Women gathering belongs here.

This matters.

What you are creating matters.

And I am so grateful I got to experience it from the inside.

Coming Home Full

I came home from this weekend carrying so much.

Not more to do.

More to remember.

I remembered that I need nature.

I remembered that I need women.

I remembered that I need teachers.

I remembered that I need to be a student.

I remembered how much I love sharing Kundalini.

I remembered how powerful it is to step outside of our normal lives long enough to hear ourselves again.

I remembered that being nurtured changes the way we nurture others.

I remembered that rest does not take us away from our purpose. Sometimes it returns us to it.

And I remembered that I want more of this.

More gathering.

More retreats.

More spaces where women can learn and laugh and cry and eat beautiful food and move their bodies and wrap themselves in blankets and talk about everything and nothing.

More opportunities to teach each other.

More opportunities to receive from each other.

More opportunities to witness what happens when a student becomes a teacher, when a teacher becomes a student again, and when the lines between all of those roles soften enough for us to simply meet one another as women.

I left Okoboji with my cup filled back up.

And I can already feel that fullness spilling into what I want to create next.

Maybe that is one of the greatest gifts of retreat.

We step away for a little while, not because we are trying to escape our lives, but because sometimes we need enough space to remember how deeply we want to return to them.

To Dylan, Miranda, and every woman who shared that space:

Thank you for the reminder.

Thank you for the nourishment.

Thank you for trusting me to share my practice with you.

Thank you for receiving the magic of Kundalini with such openness.

Thank you for the laughter, the conversations, the practices, the stillness and the care.

Thank you for reminding me how much I love this work.

How much I love being a student.

How much I love being a teacher.

And how very, very much I love being in community with women.

My cup is full.

And I am coming home ready to pour again.