Iona Retreat - my first Yoga experience by Lesley

I woke and groaned from muscle pain and lack of sleep. The slight cool breeze from the open window felt crisp across my face but there appeared to be no rain. The mostly quiet of the house was broken intermittently by creaking floor boards, flushing toilets and running water.  The people in the house were observing Mouna so no one spoke.  My room mate acknowledged me with a smile and I responded with a thumbs up. 

I crawled out of bed, discarded my pyjamas and piece by piece enveloped my body in suitable clothing for the yoga practice to come.  I had asked myself for the last few days why we had to do this at 7am and not at 10am but I had kept the thought to myself and now that I was used to it I was okay with the routine. 

Dressed I left the house alone to walk to the community centre. I was a bit early but I needed to walk the pains away and breathe clean sea air, have some quiet time and think while strolling by the shore. 

I became aware of the bird sounds, the chirps, thrills and cooing all around.  Some tenors, some sopranos I thought. I knew that Nick (my Yogi bear as I thought of him) would surely know each participant’s name and which feathered coat they would be wearing but I knew none.  I was happy to just appreciate the clear bright day and the beautiful symphony from the orchestra of birds.  

Each step cooled and calmed me. I found myself drawn to the beach and the water’s edge. I watched the waves and the colour of the sea.  The crashing sound of water seemed to provide the drum beat to the bird song.  Occasional clanking from some boat rigging was like a triangle player adding in lightness. Then I heard the sound of the prize bird that Nick had been talking about.  I was assured that this bird  (the corncrake) hides themselves in thick grass and is rarely seen. Nick really wanted to capture a great photo of it.  

The sound was not song-like but more rhythmic and repetitive.  Quack quack, quack quack.  I sat on the rock and stayed totally still.  I watched the grass along the edge of the nearby field. Then I saw her - not beautiful to me but proud.  A little like a small haughty chicken I thought.  I imagined we locked eyes and she mocked me.  I thought momentarily of pulling out my phone but somehow, sensing it, she was suddenly gone. 

I shook myself a little feeling cold. I walked off the beach and up the road to join the others, a little late now.  We started our communal chant ‘om, om, om’. Then our breathing, humming as we exhaled and then practiced poses (asana). 

Somehow I now felt a part of this thin place and as if I had a space in the yoga dawn chorus just like the birds, definitely a subordinate and support role but still cherished and wanted.  I felt I was where I belonged as I meditated listening to the corncrake calling outside the window.  I felt like she was joining in our chants.  ‘Dhimaka Dhimaka Dhima Dhimaka Dhimaka Dhima’.  

A lovely week shared with good people led by two wonderful yoga guides Tulsi and Nick,

accompanied by Poppy.