View this email in your browser

Dear people,

Thank you for the dances you've brought outdoors this spring. Thank you for exploring a new way to practice. It has filled my cup to re-orient, settle in, and deepen with you. I haven't been able to include all of you who've wanted to join, and I'm sorry about that. Now we're on the cusp of small-group limitations lifting. On the verge of this change, it's time to touch base with you.

It's been a pleasure to inhabit St. Ann's garden in a dancing way, and at the same time we are sorely aware of meeting on the grounds of the
former St. Ann's school,  which was for a period of time a day school in our country's  genocidal Residential School system. We glimpse the school building from the space that embraces a new layer of activity. We dance in the shadow of profoundly destructive settler occupation of unceded Quw'uts'un territory and  the wrong relationships it maintains. We've put our feet on the earth in acknowledgment of the primary need for truth and justice, and in inquiry about how to come to be here in a learning way, a respectful way, a repairing way. Our practice is also a way of acclaiming and saying  huy ch q'u for Quw'uts'un Mustimuhw's continuous guardianship and care of the land.

~ this photo: Jenny Holden ~

The barely believable shocks and shifts of our 2021 world have gentle, instructional analogues in the garden. Different flowers arrive and disappear fast, giving an intensive in impermanence. Growing gangs of weeds prove the pointlessness of being a fussy-pants because there's always going to be a mix of the preferred and non-preferred. Swallows teach spontaneity and moment-seizing. Slugs teach slow intentionality and storm-appreciation. Hummingbirds and bees model listening to one's hungers and turning naturally to passionate pursuit. The quail family models staying in touch and sticking together. Eagles, herons, vultures and hawks pass overhead, modelling backing off to take perspective again and again. Weather systems bake us one week, soak and blast us the next: back to the learning ground of humility, vulnerability, and adaptability. 
And then there are the humans.  ;-)

It's a land of lessons out there. I'm aiming to remain teachable and basically flexible. Since January 2020, I keep returning to a vivid desire for a Bending Grass Dance.

OLD WOMAN: Always be a gentleman, my boy.

ME: You mean polite, gracious, humble?

OLD WOMAN: No, I mean always be a gentle man. Act softly and kindly to others and to yourself. 

ME: In everything?

OLD WOMAN: Yes. In everything. You don’t need to be hard, like others may say. Hard things break. Soft things never do. Be like grass. It gets stepped on and flattened but regains its shape again once the pressure passes. It is humble, accepting and soft. That’s what makes it strong.

~ from Richard Wagamese's magnificent book Embers: One Ojibway’s Meditations. ~

Bearing in mind that The Unexpected is a frequent visitor these days and things may change, I want to let you know that I anticipate stepping away from teaching in July and returning in August. It seems likely that August groups will look different from our current petite groups of movers in headphones. I will inform you of where and how practices will resume as confirmed details come up from a sea of unknowns. For those who have already registered for August classes, your spots are held for you. If there are changes in format that pose challenges, I'll do everything I can to make it work for you.

As always, I welcome your
emails or calls: 250) 710-1998. I will update upcoming class information on my website when our pathway through B.C.'s gradual Covid-related changes becomes clearer.

Please be well, please take care.
~ Chantell
Copyright © 2021 5Rhythms & Yoga with Chantell Foss, All rights reserved.

unsubscribe from this list    update subscription preferences 

Email Marketing Powered by Mailchimp