I awoke to delicate snow flurries and a marked drop in temperature on Sunday morning. For most of my PK cohort, the day signaled the physical transition toward home. For me, however, the bonus day I had manifested was about to shift from a restful extension of the SoHum bubble into the first real-world test of my promise to myself to protect my peace.
Farewell to Family
Breakfast was our final “family” meal together. We welcomed newcomers Kelly and Helen to the table, who arrived a day early on Saturday evening to get ahead of the snowstorm. Kelly was a PK veteran, having previously visited SoHum and a half-dozen other places. We appreciated her perspective on her different experiences and on what makes SoHum special.
Priya and Sri were the first to leave, planning to visit Mount Soma on their way home; Cam and Sam loaded up their cars and left an hour later. Shiva and I waved bittersweet goodbyes to our dear friends and wrote another haiku:
Little snow dots
Dancing in the breeze
Departures, connected by love
As we waited for Shiva’s friend Will to arrive, she took the opportunity to capture a photo of Becca at the front desk with the little bird statue, and we spoke with Zachary about the weekly transitional energy. He said that the guests are like kids at camp: somewhat hesitant upon arrival, and glowing when they depart. It’s fun for him to witness the weekly transformation.
Behind the Scenes Tour
When Will arrived, Zachary took us on a tour of SoHum, including all the guest rooms in the main lodge (except for Saraswati and Tulsi, which were occupied by Kelly and Helen). It was incredible to see first-hand the customization in each individual room – the colors of the walls, the styles of the furniture, the lighting fixtures, the artwork – each room was completely different, reflecting the healing goddess energy it was designed to hold. (Better photos and more expansive views than my quick corner snapshots are available here)
After the tour, Will accepted an origami heart from me. He tucked it into his shirt pocket to keep it close to his own heart, a gesture that, in turn, touched my heart. Shiva and Will enjoyed catching up over lunch in the dining room. Then, all too quickly, they said goodbye to Kami, Becca, Zachary, and me and headed home to Tennessee.
With my PK cohort gone, I felt slightly ungrounded. Becca and Kami were there for me in my moments of need:
- Becca: Becca and I spent a few quiet moments folding origami roses, which we exchanged; my rose from Becca, beautifully wabi-sabi, is on my desk in my home office, where it makes me smile.
- Kami: I expressed my hesitancy about my ability to protect my peace in the real world, and Kami offered me permission to be a little selfish as I transitioned, saying it was okay to tell my family I needed a little space and gentleness when I arrived home.
Rather than facing lunch in an empty dining room, I took a lunch tray up to my room and ate while watching the snow outside my window. I ventured into haiku-writing without Shiva:
Trees gently swaying
Snowflakes dancing in the light
SoHum is at peace
Fire and Ice
I lit a fire in my room’s wood-burning stove for the first time since my arrival. It had been unseasonably warm all week, and this was the first day that truly felt like cozy indoor fire weather to me. I curled up in one of the floral chairs and prepared for “trataka” flame gazing, picking up my phone to ensure it was in “do not disturb” mode. I saw a text from Misha at the front desk, saying that in-room fires were suspended due to the high winds.
I felt my “don’t break the rules” anxiety start to rise and called Misha for guidance. She advised me to close the glass so no sparks would fly out, stay close and watch it, not add any more firewood, and that it would go out on its own soon. I enjoyed 20 minutes of flame gazing before the final embers faded to black.
When I picked up my phone afterward, I saw that my original flight had taken off on time and landed in DC early. I spoke to my husband and confirmed that the snow wasn’t sticking, and I would’ve been able to get home without any difficulty on Sunday.
As I looked out the window at the high winds and unexpected snow that was starting to accumulate in Asheville, I wondered if I had made the wrong choice. Was I now trapped in the very thing I had tried to avoid? The mental “static” I had successfully squelched all week was creeping back in. I realized I couldn’t just sit in my room and fight the anxiety; I needed to take a deep breath and re-immerse myself in the wisdom that had carried me this far.
A Second Welcome Ceremony
Misha had shared that Sneha would lead the welcome ceremony for the new cohort. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity for a SoHum meditation with Sneha, whom I hadn’t formally met, but felt like I knew after watching her in the AyurPrana videos about making ginger pickles and navigating in-room enemas.
I heard wisdom in this “bonus” welcome meeting that I hadn’t retained from my cohort’s welcome meeting:
- Everything is energy – food, emotions – if we don’t process them, they get stuck. Stuck energy – physical, emotional, mental – all comes out during a PK.
- Ganesha represents vastness, the multitudes of everything that is; the mouse represents the minutiae
- SoHum brings us home to ourselves as we shed all the layers we put on over time that dim our light. Let the light shine!
This last point really resonated with me. I dim my light often, not wanting to outshine others, not wanting to make waves, not stepping into my own power. My brother often tells me to “Be Brilliant,” and my word for the year is Bright. SoHum has helped me step into the power of my inner light.
I realized that protecting my peace isn’t about dimming that light to stay safe; it’s about fueling it so it can shine, even through a storm.
Sneha led us in the SoHum meditation, which I still practice at home:
- So: inhaling light energy
- Hum: exhaling, releasing it
- Release the frame, the labels we have connected to our identity
- SoHum breath is the first medicine, the most important medicine
While the group set their intentions for the week, I reaffirmed mine going forward: to protect my peace.
The Compressed Welcome Meal
During dinner, I got to know the rest of the new PK Cohort: Heather, Vance, Vaani, and Brian. It was fun to step into the role Scott had embodied for my cohort and answer questions about my experience over the past week.
On the surface, dinner was the same as last week – Sean read Rumi’s “The Guest House” and shared the healing power of nature after the hurricane’s devastation. We enjoyed the same (amazing) seared kitchari dhokla, the fancy tea, and the delicate winter squash and kale that I remembered so fondly.
However, I could see the subtle changes beneath the surface as Sean and Rio moved with a quiet, but purposeful, efficiency. Everyone received generous portions, so there was no need to extend the meal with second helpings, as we had a week ago. Because the snow continued to fall, and the winding mountain road conditions were deteriorating, they needed to get back down the mountain before things got worse.
The leisurely, expansive pace of SoHum was being squeezed by the urgency of the elements. It was a reminder that, even in a sanctuary, we are still subject to the world’s energetic flow. But the opposite is also true: even amid the world’s energetic flow, we can create a sanctuary. I would carry this truth home with me.
Protecting My Peace: My First Test
In my room, I enjoyed the same orange-blossom date ball I had a week ago. Last week, it was a sweet, quiet reminder that I was here to be nurtured. This week, it was a gentle nudge that I was clinging to something that had already changed, and it was time to release my attachment.
I heard the powerful swirling winds of the storm outside my room. I remembered Sneha telling us earlier that everything is just energy, a vibration. We don’t need words to describe it, we don’t need to judge it, we can just allow it. I allowed the storm to exist without assigning it an anxiety-laden meaning.
This was my first test of protecting my peace: I was no longer practicing in a theoretical vacuum; I was practicing in a real-world storm that was attempting to breach my SoHum bubble.
Despite my uneasy feeling that I wasn’t supposed to be here, I chose to sit in the quiet, watching the snow accumulate, and trust that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I didn’t know it then, but this “test” was preparing me for a purposeful moment on Monday that would confirm I was, indeed, still supposed to be here.
In my next post: I step into my purpose, shining my inner light as I teach an impromptu yoga class at SoHum before navigating the snowy mountain road with Kami for the final home.
Read Part 12: PK Day 9 | The Departure: Stepping into the Light
