With some time off around Labor Day, I packed my bike in the
back of a $137/week (including tax!!) rental car and headed out for a Taoist
weekend in Yogaville. It was a spur-of-the moment decision. I had wanted to go
to my usual “spiritual home” – the Himalayan Institute in Honesdale, PA. But
I’d hoped to share the 5-hour drive with my friend Gayle. Gayle is hard in
training for the New York to DC Climate Ride in three weeks and didn’t feel she
could take the time off from her rigorous schedule. As a side note – Gayle is
65 years old and has been doing 60, 70, even 90 mile bike rides to get in shape
– so, GO GAYLE!! But I couldn’t face the long drive alone and decided to go to
Yogaville instead – a much shorter 3-hour trip.
I arrived a day early, getting there in plenty of time for a
pre-dinner yoga class. The next morning – after another yoga class – I was
determined to spend the morning writing. I’d lost all the edits I’d done while
in Minnesota and, well, let’s just say it hasn’t been a highly productive
summer for writing.
But I was distracted by mournful howls penetrating the
stillness of my room. I peeked out and saw that, across the way, a lonely
French Bulldog was parked in the window of another room, wailing for its human
companion. I went over and talked to her through the window, reassuring her
that someone would be back soon. It seemed to calm her down and I was able to
complete the edits on one essay. I then took a laughing yoga class, which
definitely cheered me up, went for a post-lunch bike ride, and had a massage –
not a bad way to spend a day.
As I left my room the next day, the little Bulldog came
running over to me (the door to her room was open). I don’t think it’s anthropomorphism
when I say she wanted to thank me for my visit the previous day. Her gratitude was
so great that, when I started walking to lunch, she insisted on following me. I
went back to the room and found her owner – letting her know that Naima (I’d
read her nametag) was about to take off with me.
The rest of my stay at Yogaville was filled with learning some
of the lovely practices from the NI family style of Qi Gong: the Dao-IN and The
Eight Treasures, as taught by Paul Olko. After eyeing each other throughout the
4-day workshop, another participant and I finally realized that we had known
each other through mutual yoga buddies many years ago and we had a good time
catching up on old friends and memories. As a counterpoint to the quiet Qi Gong
sessions, each afternoon I took a bike ride in the sweltering heat. What a joy
to ride on gently rolling country roads with hardly a car – even though the
heat wore me out.
On Sunday afternoon Naima was outside again and, as I went
over to pet her, her owner asked if I was from New York, and did people tell me
all the time that I looked just like Jane Goldberg? I’m not from New York, and I don’t
look like Jane Goldberg – but I do know that she’s an awesome tap dancer
because Sarah, one of my oldest friends, used to dance with her in New York. As
we started connecting the dots, it turned out that Naima’s human was Connie – a
good friend of Sarah’s. The two of them had performed as The Doily Sisters at
La Mama in New York more than 30 years ago. What a small world it turned out to
be.
Connie was at Yogaville for a different program and we never
would have connected, had not dear little Naima brought us together. We only
had a short time to talk, but Connie and I were delighted to find each other. It
seemed the hand of fate guided me to Yogaville.
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