Solid Ground, Spacious Heart

Yoga has taught me (and continues to teach me) many things, but one of the hardest lessons continues to be this: trusting the process.

Utah offered me the space to practice that lesson, to become patient with myself, to lean into the unknown and to let the path unfold before me.

I didn’t go to Utah with any real expectations. My partner planned the trip for us and created an idea of what the itinerary would look like... but we both agreed we wanted to go with the flow.

I went in completely blind. Since I wasn't responsible for planning, I didn't look up any places or see any photos of where we may be going. I didn't even know the names of the parks haha. I was open, curious, and willing to let my partner and the landscape lead.. and Utah gifted me exactly what I didn’t know I needed.

For 10 days, we camped in national and state parks surrounded by bright red canyons, towering hoodoos, snow-dusted mountains, and ancient rock formations that seemed to change my perception of time. Our days were spent hiking and scrambling over inclined rocky paths, following sometimes unmarked trails through the desert, trusting each step as it revealed itself. When our bodies asked for rest, we would listen by stretching and sometimes even napping by the river. We let the water do its quiet work on our nervous systems and then would picnic together when the time felt right.

Life became simple. We fell asleep early and we woke with the sunrise.

Each evening, we spent time by the fire. I learned how to start and tend fire. It's like art to me now - how to stack the logs for good air flow, how to maneuver fallen or burning logs in a way that creates more energy for the fire. Those moments became fire meditations, a steady practice of presence. Watching flames dance and soften into embers reminded me about the dance between effort and ease.... about when to act and when to simply witness.

There were moments that felt almost unreal. Standing atop a massive rock formation, we found ourselves not too far from a California Condor perched on a nearby rock. This endangered bird, 4ft tall with a 10ft wingspan was majestic to say the least. We were just standing there sharing space with this huge bird and admiring it's presence.

Out there, I learned what true silence sounds like. Silence isn't the absence of sound... but the presence of everything else. I could feel the subtle hum of life. I thought back to my sessions with two of my teachers Manasa and Kranti, learning about the sound of OM, and I could feel OM in a whole new way out there. The way this quiet held me with no distractions, no urgency to be anywhere else gave me new perspective on spaciousness. And then at night, the sky would just open up to a beautiful display of lights. The stars were absolutely breathtaking! We even got to see shooting stars on some of the darkest nights.

Somewhere throughout those spacious days I could feel something softening in me. I could feel a letting go happening viscerally in my body. A lightness that surfaced over the course of the trip. Spaciousness not just in my mind, but in my heart too. Time away from the yoga studio brought me even closer to my yoga practice. Everything became meditation in motion... hiking, sitting, driving, laughing until my belly hurts, letting tears fall without explanation... Each moment was full of presence. 

Nature has a way of teaching us exactly what we’re ready to learn. There were challenging moments on the trip where I could feel myself tested mentally, physically and spiritually. Beyond the deepest reflections and moments I felt during the trip, I also noticed something when I returned to the studio. I was back on the roof, approaching a painting project on the inclined part near the dormers. This was something that felt challenging and awkward the last time I’d been up there. This time, my ankles and legs felt steady. Squatting, balancing, and trusting my body came naturally. Even climbing up and down the ladder felt easier. 10 days of scrambling across Utah’s rocky desert had quietly built strength and resilience in my body. I felt more confident and I trusted myself and my body in whole new way.

Trust is a huge take away from this trip. I didn’t know the plan in Utah....and I didn’t need to in order to enjoy the trip. I moved through each day with a beginner’s mind, open to whatever our experience would be, enjoying every part of the journey. Funny enough, a few years ago, I wrote my first blog post about trust....how hard it felt for me to do in partner dancing, how uncomfortable surrendering control was, how challenging it was to trust the process…  What a difference a couple of years makes. 

Now, I find myself writing about surrendering with a softer heart. I'm living in a way that allows me to go with the flow. I'm experiencing spaciousness and trust in meaningful ways not just within myself, but alongside a partner who loves, respects, and supports me. Trust no longer feels like a leap... it feels like a wordless conversation or a rhythm to feel into.

Trust didn't just arrive for me one day.. it happened over time. It took building a steady foundation. Like the many years it took for certain rock formations to lift up from the earth to create the solid ground I was walking on. Each intentional action I take brings me a steadier foundation over time, and eventually it becomes more natural to trust the process of life unfolding. 

The experiences I had in nature mirrored back what I’ve been pouring energy into all along: presence, resilience, trust, and the courage to feel fully and let go. I will continue to reflect and integrate and I'm sure there are more lessons in store for me this year. As an eager student of yoga and of life, I welcome the lessons with open arms, an open mind, and open heart.

May we all continue to grow together and pour energy into what is most important to us and how we can be of service to others.

With love,
Katie Beene