Semilla Yoga Permaculture: The Connection

Before I moved to Thailand so many years ago I had decided I would first go to a yoga retreat in Cambodia. That retreat linked me up with some special souls, one of which told me about this amazing sustainable community based in the north of Thailand. So, after teaching a semester in the northeast, I decided to visit this place called New Life.

There, people are welcomed as volunteers or residents, where together they work to create a well-oiled cooperative. Mindfulness is at the center of it’s ethos and a variety of meditative rituals are offered. Along with the daily tasks of cleaning, cooking, gardening, and building, life coaching and healing sessions are given to the residents doing the real “work” to investigate their inhibitions, addictions, traumas, and self-limiting beliefs.

There I was called to serve as a volunteer for a few weeks. And there I met some solid soul connections. One such connection was Emma, a Danish girl who’d arrived as a guest and stayed on as a resident. Emma and I just had an immediate bond. She was among the people I looked to throughout my day for a smile, a hug, or maybe just some eye contact. We went on walks, bike rides, matched up for morning yoga, and saved space for each other during meals. She became “my girl”, my best friend within this intimate community.

I remember when she walked me down to the taxi before I left, and I remember the tear I shed as the driver started to accelerate away. It wasn’t long before we reconnected again in Laos- a visa run and vacation experience. There were some stand out memories, like the night we got invited to join the local police station for a dance party and dinner they were having on the street. Or the tourist visit to the aqua blue waterfall outside of the city.

Our lives took us to other sides of the world- me in the US and Thailand, her in Europe. She met the love of her life after I left New Life and they began an adventure together that brought them to Spain. They acquired a property in the mountains of the Sierra Nevada outside of a small village called Torvizcon. There, tucked in to nature, they created their own version of New Life, their own mindful home.

I followed their Instagram page for the home they coined @SemillaYogaPermaculture. I watched their space grow from afar and I assured myself I would go and visit it someday. That day came three years after it’s creation.



Emma and Tom picked me up in Órgiva, a hippie town outside of Granada. From there we drove along the curves and aside the mountain range until we passed a village and met the bridge. We parked and set off on the 25 minute trek up to their cliff-side home. Two bell tents for guest accommodation, a Tibetan yurt for themselves, open-aired kitchen, vegetable beds, ancient almond and olive trees, composting toilet, yoga deck, rescued-chicken pen, water tanks, solar power banks, terraced tree beds, a lounge area and a breathtaking view. I'm sure I'm missing the many magical pieces that make up their sustainable home, it surely was magical.

It became clear very early on that Emma's husband, Tom, and I would become close friends. He provided the space for Emma and I to catch up, but also matched her amazing presence and energy. I was surely writing about a lot that was going on in my life, but I really hadn't verbally talked through a lot of things. Tom was there to ask me thought-provoking questions and we were able to have an open dialogue about family dynamics, 'the real world', relationships, personal self-limiting beliefs and even conspiracy theories.



When the time came for the teacher training specialization course I was definitely a bit sad that I wouldn't have as many intimate conversations with my quickly-made friend. However, the Animalia Asana two-day intensive was a great opportunity to reconnect to my teaching practice and learn a variety of poses I never knew existed. It was a great exploration of different forms of breath, meditation, and even dance that can open up the animal energy within us. Although I haven't started guiding an in-studio class yet, I felt invigorated to take the next step when I return to the US and incorporate interesting animal culture into the classes. We drew animal cards and the first one I received was a snake, who embodies a state of transformation and shedding of the skin. Simply receiving this message felt very aligned with my path, and then interestingly enough a snake joined us during one of our sessions!  

Following the retreat, Emma had dropped some hints that I should stay longer. I didn't feel ready to leave and wanted more time with my friends, so I listened to her. There were more lovely meals cooked with love, an Airbnb guest who joined in on the deep conversations, photography sessions with amazing backdrops, and an overwhelming feeling of peace. I woke up to the sound of a blender, a message that my morning smoothie was prepared, and I fell asleep to the sound of a frog, a message that nature was comforting. 

At the end of my week stay, I felt like I was leaving family. Sure, Emma had always been close to my heart. But becoming such close friends with Tom, that was a surprising evolution. I was reminded while spending time with these two partners how important non-violent, loving, communication is in relationships. I was reminded what love looks like. 

I was also provided with some relief about my Camino that was coming in the week ahead. My reasons for doing the Camino could change. And I didn't have to get so frustrated that for right now I was doing the Camino to cure my broken heart and to get over a past lover. Because that wouldn't always be the reason I was doing it. It would change. I would change. And there was no reason to rush my healing. 

I left Semilla in the morning dusk. I breathed in all the beauty that their land had to offer. I soaked in the scent of the yellow flowers. I appreciated the running river. I thanked nature just as I thanked these beautiful partners for welcoming me into their home. There was no doubt I would be connecting with these two hearts again in the future. And there was no doubt that Semilla lived up to it's beauty that I'd been following for years. 

Madrid: The Purge

I had these plans to drop off my luggage at my friend’s mom’s house and dash off to the South of Spain.

But, plans can easily be changed. 

I arrived to the Madrid airport with a large lump in my throat and unbearable back pain. The older I’ve gotten, the more I truly believe that disease within the body is just that dis-ease. I could feel some lasting sorrow from leaving my mother in the US for 3 months. I held back tears in Charleston when the thought entered my head that when I return she could be worse along the progression of her illness, or, even worse, she could be gone. I knew that what was manifesting as a pain in my low back was my grief in leaving and fear of what could happen while I’m gone.

I also could feel some part of me feeling like I hadn’t completely voiced myself in this breakup to certain characters I’d blocked. I had words to say to the mom who didn’t believe me, to the sister who had no idea what went down, and I wondered about the girl that came before me and if she had a similar story to mine. I had kept telling myself that I wasn’t allowed to talk to these people. I knew that what was manifesting as a sore throat was my denial of voicing what I wanted to say.

So I arrived to Madrid feeling sick and not the energized self that I imagined would dash off to the next adventure. I had the choice to persist on and fight the pain, or to absorb the pain and confront it. I decided to listen to my body and my internal struggle, so I unpacked my bags for a few days and settled in.

There came a moment when we were out for lunch. Somewhere between the paella and the fruit creme dessert where I felt some relief about being away from my mom. I was here, at a table with a mother of my best friend, someone I had always wanted to meet. I was here. And I realized to be here I needed to let go of being there. I breathed in some relief, and by days end, surrounded with a family I would have never gotten to meet if I hadn’t left the US, I let go of the grief.

I woke up the next day with a relieved back, but a persistent sore throat. I had the whole day and place to myself as the rest of the family was off at a funeral. It had rained heavy all night and into the morning, matching this cleanse I felt so dire to my soul. I woke up clear with what I needed to write and who I needed to write to. So, I said all the things I’d been wanting to say but swallowed deep down. I carried on the rest of the day a little lighter, and felt my throat opening up a bit. I’d expressed what I wanted to say and I wasn’t going to hold on to the need of a response. So I cuddled with the dogs and made friends with the horses. I went on a barefoot walk up the mountain and felt like nature was hugging me with all its beauty. The wild lavender scent and the fresh air rolling through.

It all felt like exactly where I was supposed to be, and having this day to myself really sunk in the beauty of what my time in Spain was to be. I decided I’d take a trek the following day as a trial walk for the 500 mile Camino de Santiago I’d be starting on in 2 weeks time.

A home-cooked meal rounded out this beautiful day. A day that felt like I was really coming home to myself, to me. And the more my throat loosened and the less pain I felt swallowing.

I woke up the next day ready for my 20km walk through the mountain range of Miraflores. And I got a message I wasn’t expecting. I got a gift from this girl I never thought I’d talk to, a girl who went through the same exact thing as I did with the same exact man just before me. I let the hurt rise to tears, I let the inner critic question, “why hadn’t you reached out sooner?”, I let all the emotions ebb and flow. And with this new formed connection, talking to someone who’d been through the storm and survived, blossomed even, I was overcome with relief. It wasn’t just me. I knew I hadn’t lied about our story but having someone else confirm it just made me feel more at peace about it all. Yeah, it sucked, I could have reached out years earlier and he would have been exposed. But here I was, talking with the girl I wasn’t ever supposed to talk to, and feeling at peace that I was not alone. And that we were here for each other. 

I went on that trial walk with thoughts swirling in my head. I cried. I laughed. I screamed. I let my mind flutter to the past. I got lost and then found the trail again. I got caught in a storm and persisted on through the thunder and the downpour. And by the end, I’d turned the to-be 20km walk into something more like 30.

As I finally found a way back to my Spanish mom’s house, not ‘the way’ I’d left, but ‘a way’ all the same, I was overwhelmed with lightness. Yes, I was sore. Yes, I was sure my stubborn self shouldn’t have stretched that hike so far. Yes, the rain and the miles had done their work in washing me over with feelings and ultimately, calm. 

I didn’t just say to myself that I was an independent badass, I truly began to feel it. I felt it in my bones, like everything was unfolding for me. My throat loosened up even more and as I walked through the gate, eyeing the white stallions, I swallowed my peace with no pain or attachment. I felt washed over with ultimate freedom.

Free.

I was finally Free again.