Two truths can coexist
Coming home to myself
Sometimes we arrive at a retreat in a season of thriving- feeling on top of the world, ebullient, primed and ready for a weekend of adventure.
Sometimes, we arrive during a season of surviving-carrying a healing or grieving heart, a body in discomfort, personal struggles, or the weight of the world leaving us hollow and fragile.
This past weekend, I entered the retreat after a few very difficult months. I didn’t feel like wearing radical gear. I didn’t feel like dancing. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go. For the first time ever, I attended as a retreater rather than a host. My cup was empty and I knew I could not bring the energy needed to lead or teach. I too needed some time to come back to myself.
That shift in perspective opened my eyes to something I had only understood from a distance. Many of you come to these retreats carrying the weight of life’s chaos—broken hearts, grief, the relentless pressures of daily life. I’ve always known this, but experiencing it firsthand gave me a deeper understanding. And my biggest takeaway?
It is really hard to prioritize time for self-care. It is hard to make time to come to a retreat. It can be hard to drag yourself to a yoga class, much less a retreat, when you are in the thick of it.
And yet, we need our yoga practices the most when facing the difficulties of life.
Two truths can coexist: things can be difficult and heavy, yet we can still hold space for wonder, awe, joy, and curiosity.
More than any other location, coming to Deep Portage now feels like a coming home of sorts. After nine years, the many taxidermied critters adorning every hallway now feel like the Natural History Museum’s quirky cousin.
The factoid-filled walls delight me, and I have a new personal goal to add a large fact-filled “work of art” to the wall and wait until the Deep Portage Staff notices.
I was not a camp kid, but I am proudly a camp adult.
Deep Portage, and retreats more generally, offer a time to return to myself. I know I’m in there, but sometimes I need to shake myself loose from many layers of debris. It is a time to let the pressure valve release. A time to make zero meals, sleep, read, experience some boredom, watch the snow fall, hop in the mobile sauna, receive the healing gifts of specialty appointments with Reiki, massage, and Thai Yoga Bodywork practitioners.
This retreat allowed my brain time for positive experiences. My nervous system got a much-needed break. Bryana reminded us that two things can be true at once- there can be difficult things happening in our personal life and/or the world, and we can be present in the moment and enjoy the opportunities available to us. We can enjoy six inches of fresh sparkly snow while also holding heaviness in our heart.
Retreats offer time to connect with others without the barriers of a screen between us.
We left our phones behind. We chatted. We connected. We got silly.
A few highlights from the teachers:
Bryana hard-launched teaching us dance moves in the snow. She has a dance background, and last year she did teach us the Barbie dance. This year she taught us some great moves and it was a 10/10 experience. Adding to the splendor was the MN snowstorm and the radical snow gear. I think this gets at the idea that sometimes forced fun becomes real fun. I mean any time I have put on a 6 minute dance tutorial at home, I’ve genuinely had a goofy good time by myself. Before we headed out, I wondered if we were over the radical snow gear theme. I wondered if we were over the whole dancing in the snow thing. Answer, no. I’m not over it yet.
Only six of us made it to the fire. Luckily for me, four members of my personal fun-squad were present. The snow softly fell as we stood beneath the pines and a smattering of stars overhead. When we put the fire out, a huge poof of smoke went up and we started doing the scene from The Proposal with Betty White and Sandra Bullock around a fire. It was a dream.
I think many of us experienced an emotional shift during Cindy’s Solar Plexus Workshop.
Singing the Robin Hood song in silly voices with all of you.
Notes on the Power of Fun by Catherine Price
I loved this book! I am a harsh critic of these self-help books, but this one hit the mark for me. Bryana did an excellent job weaving in lessons throughout the weekend. Some of the big takeaways for me include the following:
Identify your “fun-squad”: these are the people you have a great time with. Hone in on those relationships, and perhaps consider investing less time in relationships with folks that didn’t make the fun-squad list.
Embrace spontaneity: when someone asks you to meet for coffee or a xc ski, say yes! Make it work, even if you are busy! Better yet, initiate these short bursts of fun into your life.
Make a list of short-burst of fun ideas, medium-bursts of fun, and big-bursts of fun. A short-burst of fun is simple- a six minute dance video, cocoa with a buddy, a walk in the dark with a headlamp. Medium-bursts include things like a girl’s night, visiting a climbing wall, going for a xc ski, etc. A big-burst is something like a retreat or vacation.
Confluence of playfulness + connection + flow = True Fun!
Not the body I want, but it’s the body I have
I used to get restless in yoga classes that lingered too long on the floor, lacked enough movement, or stretched savasana past my patience. I cringe now, thinking of all the times I walked out early, convinced savasana was optional.
After nine years of leading retreats, this past weekend was the first time I truly noticed how much my body has changed. For the first time, I found myself longing for movement on the ground instead of standing sequences. By Sunday morning, I was worn out—down dogs felt like real effort.
I know I’m doing everything I can to age well, but I’m also coming up against the realities of my own body. I’m four months into an unresolved right leg injury—what we thought was a stress fracture may be a combination of issues. In late February, I’ll have some hardware removed from my knee, a remnant of an ACL repair from 16 years ago.
Lately, I’ve been sitting with the thought: This may not be the body I want, but it’s the body I have. We all wrestle with this in some way. And recently, I’ve been inspired—again—by Minnesota’s own Lindsey Vonn. A skiing legend with 82 World Cup victories and three Olympic medals, Vonn’s career was shaped by resilience. Multiple knee surgeries, an ACL tear in 2013—injury after injury. She retired in 2019 but came back in 2024 after a partial knee replacement. At 40, she finished fourth in a recent super-G race, with her sights still set on the 2026 Olympics.
At the retreat, I found myself reflecting on the familiar faces—the women who have been with us year after year. I stopped many of them to say: It’s a big deal to make a long-term commitment to your health. It’s a big deal to be here. It’s a big deal to imagine yourself still showing up a year from now.
