As anyone who’s been to a retreat at Retreat in the Pines will tell you, Theresa’s Tomato Feta dip welcomes you as warmly as she does.
Most of the guests at the October retreat had been to Retreat in the Pines before, two were even back for a third time. It was an amazing weekend. There were guests from San Antonio, the Dallas area and Houston.
I am honored and humbled by the comments and appreciation. I am living my passion, which is to give women a place to escape their busy lives and take time for themselves…to nurture themselves…through the healing power of yoga and nature, the kindness and compassion of other women, the comfort of good food, wine and laughter.
The first comment below is from a first time attendee, the second comment is from a woman who was here in July and came back.
There is a common theme among guests who come to a Yoga Nurture Retreat weekend and take the time to write a comment in the guest book. Most say they loved it and can’t wait to come back. Here are some comments from the very happy guests.
“Thank you so much for a great, relaxing weekend. Our ladies gym group got even closer and learned some great yoga moves. That’s all because ‘what happens in the pines, stays in the pines’.” Donna, Mansfield, Texas
“Thank you so much for this amazing weekend! I had no idea of the wonderful yoga, food and memories you had in store for us. Thank you for opening your home and heart for us!” Leeann, Rockwall, Texas
Yoga pants… Check!
Tank tops… Check!
Comfy PJs… Check!
Flip Flops… Check!
This post is written by Beki who attended a Yoga Nurture Retreat in May 2011.
I just turned 50 years old this past May. As a gift to myself for my 50th birthday, I went on a weekend long yoga retreat to Retreat in the Pines in late May. One of my dear friends, who also happens to be my best yoga buddy, went on the weekend retreat with me. I think this weekend yoga retreat is probably the best gift I have ever given to myself.
I could go on and on about the food (delicious), the setting (beautiful), the weather that weekend (perfectly gorgeous), my time in the hammock in the woods looking up at the blue sky through the pine trees (sublime), and the yoga classes (just right). But what has stayed with me is not what I took away from the experience, but rather what I left behind.
I tell my students all the time, “Just breathe through the discomfort…let your breath keep you anchored in the present moment…only breath…letting the sound of your breath calm your mind.” Oh the list goes on.
Now as my life takes another crazy turn…teenagers and their issues (it’s true what they say about small kids, small problems; big kids, big problems…those of you with young children…Enjoy!)…now I’m faced with problems that I used to believe wouldn’t happen to my kids and now the act of staying calm…seems completely impossible.
My yoga teacher, readily tells our class that yoga is… “Learning to be comfortable in an uncomfortable situation.” That of course applies off the mat, as well as on the mat.
Comfortable?!! How about not freaking out?
Give me one of those hip stretches, where I feel like I’m a wishbone and my only wish is to come out of it…not this mess that I have to figure out. Give me two hours of dripping wet yoga, where I collapse at the end into a beautiful savasana, feeling like a sopping wet dishrag…not this feeling that these problems are bigger than me.
When things get hard for me, the only place I can find solace is on my mat. It’s my time…. away from the train wreck that it seems like I’m facing.
My mat…a place to find comfort, calm, peace amidst the storm of my reality.
My practice…a place to just breathe.
My breath…my anchor when I feel overwhelmed.
How does your yoga practice help you get through the ups and downs of your life?
Need help catching your breath? Physically or figuratively? Join us for a retreat and take time for you. You’ll find your breath and so much more. Book here.
The drive to the yoga retreat this weekend was less than stellar. A massive (read: insane) thunderstorm accompanied me the entire drive east. Rain falling sideways. Almost non-existent visibility. Lightning striking the ground next to me. White knuckles on my steering wheel. Flooded streets. Wind gusts pushing my vehicle from one lane to the next. I laughed, in spite of my fear.
I recalled preparation for Savasana – the final relaxation pose in yoga. Commonly, we go into the final pose by taking each muscle into tension, then relaxation, bit by bit, from the bottom of our feet to the top of our heads.
“Maybe that’s what I’m doing right now,” I said out loud to myself. “I’m completely tensing my body, lungs and heart rate because I’m going to let go of all of this tension when I get there.”
When I arrived, I was greeted with a glass of wine, a plate of freshly prepared, scrumptious dinner, and smiling faces from strangers… who would soon become friends.
Yoga, on the top floor of the beautiful log cabin, felt strong and wonderful.
The food was homemade and mmmm….yummy…
We shared stories and laughter. We bonded over life’s disappointments and transitions. We held each other up over glasses of wine, fruit and chocolate treats. We sat in awe at each other’s history and what brought us to this common place and time.
Oh and the trees…. I LOVE trees. Trees are a natural sedative to me. And to nap in a hammock in the middle of Saturday afternoon with this view meant I had no obligations except to myself.
I will be going back.
My dream 8 years ago was to provide a yoga retreat for all levels and all practitioners. A retreat that’s as much about relaxing, laughing, enjoying my favorite things (coffee, wine and chocolate) and visiting with other women, as it is about yoga. I want my retreats to be accessible to all, physically, financially and socially. Attendees enjoy coffee and wine, and healthy, but equally delicious meals; practice yoga and meditation, but not so much that there’s no down time; enjoy massages and free time to shop, nap in the hammock, read, visit with friends, and so much more. It’s complete bliss!
It was a chilly February morning in 2004. My family and I made the trip from Dallas to the town of Mineola to look at the property now known as Retreat in the Pines. Driving down the long and winding driveway through the trees, we had no idea what to expect. Suddenly we were in a clearing, and directly in front of us was a log house, smoke gently curling out of the chimney, the lights on beckoning us inside.
It looked like home.