Friday, May 30, 2014

Tiger of Mt. Wudang

There are some moments in life where emotion is so strong, that you have no choice but to take action: to create, to express. In this moment tears have filled my eyes with love for the sweetness I have just witnessed.

Two nights ago, I made my way from daily Taiji practice to Master Gu’s home for dinner. On the way up the stairs, I spotted a small kitten burrowed into the corner of the steps. Her rear-end was covered in her own urine and her face was patched with blood. A lost look filled her eyes, and an aura of sadness was cast in all directions. I dropped to my knees and began to pray for this sweet kitten. My fellow martial artists coaxed me to come to dinner. Not being able to communicate with them except with hand and face gestures, I made it clear that I would be a few minutes. With my hands burning over this little being, I mustered up all the Reiki signs I know and called upon the highest of angels.
Ali’an came back with a hand full of rice, put it next to the kitten and grabbed my shoulder to follow him for dinner. Reluctantly, I followed him. On this night, I was the first to leave the dinner table. I rushed to the kitten, wrapped her in a small towel, and began my descent down the mountain. Her whole body shook in fear and her eyes looked glazed over. My mind was racing with solutions to help this little being. I thought it was possible that I could feed her an egg or soy milk, until she was big enough to eat bugs. As we entered the dark woods, she let out a slight “Purr.” Back home, I thought. Spirits lifted a bit and I began singing her “Hakuna Matata” as I fantasized about us catching worms and moths together. Then, she began sneezing blood on me. I have no idea what a rabid animal looks or behaves like. But I was filled with instant fear. What if I get some weird disease up on this mountain in China? What would I do?

I looked deep in her eyes, and thought, “I am so big, this sweet little creature can’t hurt me.” The thought of Jesus helping the lepers popped in my mind. Approaching disease and death fearlessly with utmost faith in creator is the only way to move through it. I let go.

I made this sweet kitty a bed in a cardboard box. She nuzzled her face in the corner of the box and her whole body shook. She was basically non responsive besides shaking with fear, so feeding her was not possible. I stripped off my clothes and cleaned myself thoroughly before entering my meditation space. Lighting candles and incense, I dropped into full lotus and began a deep meditation for the healing and well being of this kitten. My face felt flushed, my head spun and my body broke out in a full sweat. I was burning up. Fear entered my mind once again, “Am I infected with disease?” If I was, then so be it. I opened my spine and focused on grounding the energy into the Great Mother. She accepted my offering and the fire inside me began to subside.

I woke up in the morning feeling refreshed, and ran to see the kitten. Curled up in a ball, her face was absent of blood. Her eyes seemed rested but her spirit still seemed crushed. “I don’t know where you Momma is, but I will help you find her” I repeated. After a failed attempt to feed her, I ran up the mountain to morning practice and breakfast.

I spoke with Master Gu about the kitten, but he did not know anyone who would want her. He said, “I do not know anyone here on the mountain has a need for a cat, but I will ask around.” I could not watch this kitten die.
After lunch, I ran back to her home. She was barely responsive. I grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and took her in the shower with me. I scrubbed her whole body clean with soap and warm water. Needless to say, she was not very happy with me, but she was super clean! In my arms, we took a walk through the woods together looking for her mother or a surrogate cat that would help her. With no luck, my hopes began to shrink. I made my way through the village with her. Even though everyone’s eyes lit up when they saw her, no one seemed to want her.

I took her in a box to afternoon Taiji practice with me. Our amazing cook, Yanzi Jie, was so excited to hold the kitty. She pet her and smiled at her. I began flowing Taiji, but the kitten would not stop meowing. It seemed she was sparked back to life. An image of Master Gu’s son popped in my head. I grabbed the kitten and ran to Adam. “Adam, I have a new pet for you,” I yelled. His 20 year old face beamed with excitement as he embraced the kitten. Immediately he logged on to the Internet to find out what to feed her, and ran out to buy her milk. A weight lifted off my chest; she found a home.

That evening I checked on her occasionally as Adam continually attempted to feed her baby milk from a syringe. Feeling satisfied that she found a responsible father, I made my way to bed. The next day Adam reported that she had accepted some of his milk, but had to go down the mountain to run errands.  He asked for my help watching her, but I was busy training for most of the day. Yanzi Jie took on a big part of the responsibility of watching her and feeding bits of milk in her mouth. It seemed that this kitty was going to become part of the Taiji family. And then the sun rose today.
I was not sure why I stayed back with the kitten as the others went off to practice morning Taiji. I thought I had to “get things done,” but that was impossible as she was meowing and pacing back and forth on the outside patio. I tried feeding her, massaging her, and cuddling her; nothing seemed to calm her down. That is when I saw her mother.

A beautiful, strong, feral cat walked up the stairs where I found the abandoned kitten. Her eyes darted from side to side looking for humans. Her bushy tail stood erect and her ears tall. She heard the call of her child.
The mother cat jumped on to the patio and spun around her baby. She made eye contact with me and lowered her belly to the ground. I did not move. I beamed love and peace to her, letting her know I was not there to harm her. She made low sounds to her baby to follow her. She ran up a flight of stairs, but the kitten could not make it right away. The mother frantically tried to hold her in the scruff of her neck and escape back into the woods. I watched as they successfully made it up and down a flight of stairs. Then the real challenge made itself obvious.

The mother leapt from a concrete walkway about 1.5 meters over a small ravine to a rock wall. She seemed to persuade the small kitten to follow, but the baby barely could climb stairs let alone make this leap. The mother looked full of anxiety. She did not want to lose her baby again, but she seemed in a rush to get back in the woods. I peeked my head around the corner and watched from afar.
The mother grabbed the kitten by the scruff of the neck and made the jump. Crash. As they landed, the little baby fell and tumbled about 5 meters down the rock wall into a dark ravine. My stomach and heart dropped together. I could not believe what I just witnessed. If this kitten was not dead, it was certainly badly injured.
I wanted to go to practice, but I could not leave this scene. I drank some tea and calmed down for a bit, mulling over my options. I heard her distant calls, a soft meow filling the air. I couldn’t leave her down there alone. I slipped on a pair of shoes 3 sizes too small for me and climbed backwards down the ravine. Praying to God as I lowered myself down the brittle rock into a dark hole filled with rubbish and old scrap metal. With a flashlight, I spotted the kitten. As I approached her, I heard a deep growl coming from the rocks above me.

The closest thing to a living tiger on this mountain looked down at me with wide eyes ready to pounce. I felt like Benny from “The Sandlot,” only I did not have my converse All Stars on and I was not ready to run from the beast. By the grace of God, the back of someone’s house is connected to the ravine and their window was open. I grabbed the kitten, sprinted to the window, popped the screen and ran through the house to the main street.
Covered in dust, dirt, and with a healthy baby kitten under my arm, the local Chinese people looked at me like I was a crazy man. I paid no attention and ran back up the stairs to the mother cat. She hissed at me as she leapt over the ravine back on to the rock wall. This time I was not scared. I looked at her in the eyes and did my best to communicate peace. I climbed up a ways towards the forest and let the kitten down amongst the trees, past the ravine. Respectfully, I backed away and let the mother approach her baby. I watched as the mother circled her kitten with happiness and guided her up the mountain to their home. When the little kitten stumbled, the mother grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and helped her along. It was minutes before they disappeared into the woods together.

Adam and I will miss her, but all animals need a momma.

Thai Spice and Sweat: Back into the Darkroom

         I landed in Phuket, Thailand towards to the end of April. Taxi drivers and hotel recruiters charging insanely high prices greeted me to this magical country. Overwhelmed with anxiety, I put my pack on and just began to walk. I had no idea where I was going, but I just needed to get away from the insanity of the airport. As the sun was going down, I poked my head into a few hotels around the airport to inquire about a night’s stay. Again, everyone was trying to get an arm and a leg from the tourists arriving off the planes. I kept walking. By the grace of God, I walked by a fresh squeezed orange juice stand that gave me a moment to get grounded and cool off.
Wow it was hot. I was sweating bullets and no one seemed to have a good direction for me. I grabbed a local map and saw a small piece of “national park” land a couple of kilometers away. I hoofed it to the trees. I arrived at a beautiful white sand beach just as the sun was setting, put my pack down, strung up my hammock in a ninja zone, stripped my clothes off an jumped in the warm waters of Thailand. It is always in these moments that the bliss of life and the synchronicity of the flow hits me; naked and free in the twilight, surrounded by ocean and big trees is a small piece of heaven.
 A bus and boat brought me to the island of Koh Phangan. Immediately I could feel the “party” vibe that tourists were bringing to the island. The movie, “The Beach,” was partially based off a small community of hippies that formed on the outskirts of this island many years ago, but this “vibe” has quickly changed. Now there is a famous “full moon” party that brings thrill seekers to the island to get hammered under the moonlight. The main strip feels like an ad from the guidebook “The Lonely Planet.” Backpackers that are looking for a cheap place to travel and party.
I rented a scooter for a week and headed towards Surat Thani, the “yogi” section of the island. There is a Tantric community here (Agamma) that I heard about, so I poked my head around. I had plans of entering a darkroom that was created by Phangan Earthworks in the central part of the island in 4 days. I thought it would be wise to cleanse beforehand. I was disappointed with what I was seeing on this island. I dropped my bags in a “new-age” yoga center and told the manager that I would do a 3 day cleansing program with them, but I wanted to go to the beach first.
I took a scooter ride and ended up at Orion, an absolute health sanctuary located right on the beach. They also offered a 3 day cleanse program for a similar price. Woops. I grabbed my bags from the other place, offered to pay a cleaning fee, and thanked God that I did not give them a deposit! Orion served as an incredible sanctuary for my next 3 days. I drank Coconuts, fresh juice, performed colemas, herbal steam baths, thai massage, reiki, yoga, and dance.
I was ready for the darkness. I entered the darkroom with only water, wild-honey I purchased off a “bush man,” and Ormus Gold (specks of gold you drink). The Grand Cardinal cross just occurred in the sky, the sun was ready to Eclipse on the 2nd day, and I would exit the darkroom on the New Moon on May 1st, earth day. Everything seemed to line up beautifully.
The darkroom was damn hot. It is built with earth bags in a dome shape with the bathroom connected externally. A few solar fans are built into the walls of the domes, but they are to be used sparingly. Three days in the dark is nothing compared to my experience in Guatemala. I knew I could do it.
When I entered, my stomach was completely empty as I had sweat and flushed everything out of my system at Orion. After my initial sleep (entering complete darkness brings an immediate sense of hibernation to me), I woke up sweating and did not stop sweating for three days. Even if I was sitting completely still, I was sweating.
On the third day I began seeing visions and losing consciousness to low blood pressure. I would stand up to turn on the fan, and golden light would rush into my vision. My head would spin, and I would usually fall over. I began preparing myself for this, as I needed to turn the fans on and off quite frequently. As I stood, I would brace myself and try and see into the light before I fell over. I don’t recommend doing this. If you are interested in the darkroom, it can be a delightful experience. But too much heat and fasting do not combine well.
The screaming message I received when I was in the darkroom was: Go to China.
The greatest lesson was learned upon exiting the darkness. After watching the sunrise and singing with my Ukulele, I made my way towards town to drink a coconut. I passed by “The House of Healing;” the home of a Thai healer/soldier/monk whom I had been working with for a few days before the dark room. He was trying to help me pop my left hip in place. He told me it was energetic, and that I needed to forgive my mother. He became frustrated with me and told me that I should come to him after the darkroom and he will teach me Buddhist meditation. Sure enough, as I scooted through the bare streets of town, he was in his front yard raking the lawn.
“How was your meditation?” he asked me. Eyes glazed over, light headed, and ravenous, I told him it was hot. “Would you like to learn the Buddhist meditation now? Sit on that stone wall” he said as he pointed. I sat down and observed him. He began raking the lawn again. After a few minutes, his eyes met mine and he said, “Do you get it?” I smiled. He said, “Every moment is meditation. You don’t need to go sit in a cave to meditate. Every breath is meditation. When I pull my rake, I exhale. I create bad Karma because I kill many bugs. Then I inhale, and reset my rake. I create good Karma by creating a beautiful garden for more life.”
Before leaving the Island, I wanted to spend a few days on Wae Nam beach (where the hippies hid out many years ago) and check out “The Sanctuary” – a yoga community off the beaten path.
After a few days of swimming, drinking coconuts, and observing the “yogis” I bumped into a Brazilean woman that had been living on this beach for the past 7 years. She explained to me how things change so quickly. “The hippies find a nice place to live, be peaceful, do yoga, and grow food; but then everyone wants to come. People want to make money, so more boats come. More people means more partying. Everything has changed so quickly.” Three days was enough time for me to observe this space, appreciate it, and leave. I was on the small boat leaving The Sanctuary when I heard a man yell from the beach to his friends, “Wine and Yoga. That’s life.”
I met an incredible couple from Estonia on my way to Bankok. We shared many discussions about our travels, jammed Ukulele and Guitars, and shared food. Estonia seems like a fairy land. A place I would like to visit!
My mission in Bankok was to get my Chinese Visa and to experience authentic Thai food. I got a room with a dude on AirBnB who was in perfect location. After a long journey and a clouded mind, he engaged me in conversation. One thing lead to another, and all of the sudden he was telling me about the women dancing in glass containers that I could go buy. If I wanted, he would take me there. If I really wanted, he would get me a dirty magazine to pick a girl out from and he knew someone that could find her for me. “Ummmmm…..No thank you. In fact, that’s disgusting. I feel bad for those women.” He never spoke with me again regarding those matters.
I met a few good people in Bankok, ate incredibly spicy food, rode a boat down a river, visited temples and Buddhas, received massage, and walked most of the city on foot. I was incredibly overwhelmed by the amount of shopping malls, tourism, peculiar street food, Thai Boxing on the streets, and strange sexual activity rooted in this city. The highlight of my trip: receiving my China Visa and booking my flight for the next morning in route to Wudang Mountain to study Taiji – where a long awaited adventure begins!

Bali Tears: Return of the True Kingdoms

It has been a while since I left Bali, almost two months; but I am going to do my best to reflect on the final parts of my adventure, as it was a life-shifter.
As many of us have realized, or remembered, our physical bodies are directly connected to our thoughts, spirit, energy levels, and emotional well-being. Growing up, I was very tough on my body, so I do not hesitate to receive all different sorts of body work. I woke up one day and my left scapula was raging in pain. Possibly from over swimming or pushing too hard in a downward dog, or sparking up from the stiffness in my left hip. Smiling Buddha recommended a local healer to me.
I followed the man that cleaned my bungalow on his scooter through the rolling hills of Amed, Bali. We cruised down narrow roads and ended up at a local fisherman’s house: a.k.a. the local healer. I sat patiently as a large man was given treatment on the outdoor patio behind the fisherman’s house. His children played and blasted terrible American Pop music on their television, and his wife offered us coffee (which seemed counterintuitive to receiving massage – I kindly denied) and repaired his large fishing nets.
I took my place on the musty pillow, smiled at the Balinese healer, and prayed to God. No one spoke fluent English in this crowd, so I pointed, gestured, smiled, and prayed some more. He dug his strong fingers into my back and grinded coconut oil deep into my muscles. No warming up, no patty cake. He just got right in there. As he focused more on my right side, and made noises, I assumed he believed the problem was actually rooted in my right side. As I was still recovering from my motorbike accident, this made sense to me. When he reached my right elbow he shook his head and grinded in super deep. I broke this elbow many years ago and have been reluctant to revisit this scar tissue. Quite frankly, it hurts me sometimes and I was scared to move the bone any further and make the incessant grinding worse. But, he had no fear and dug in so deep that my fingers twitched. He ended here and gestured that I needed to come back. I visited 1 more time, and it was a similar story.  
When I shared this information with the Smiling Buddha, he was baffled as to why I did not tell him about this earlier. He quickly recommended I see a “bone doctor” that is located at the base of Mt. Angung (largest volcano on Bali) right outside of Besakih Temple (the Mother Temple). As the story goes, this man was praying in a temple and a vile of oil appeared out of nowhere. He took it home and was visited by an old man in spirit form who instructed him to use this oil to heal the bones of people that come to him for healing. This is oil directly from the gods.
After what I witnessed at the White Dragon temple, I did not doubt this for an instant. As my time was running short in Bali, I took off the next day for the arduous trek to Mt. Angung. I dropped my bags off at a hotel and booked it for the bone healer. I was instructed by S.B. to take a number, offer a donation and wait my turn in line. The men at the front wouldn’t give me a number for some reason, so I just sat with the locals and waited for the healer to arrive. A couple of hours passed and 50 or so people of all ages sat around waiting for his arrival. Some people in casts, others with faces full of pain, and others were wearing large smiles. S.B. told me he combines medical science with intuitive healing, and he speaks “great English.” First he takes X-rays, and then consults them with you, performs treatment and then a follow up the next day. This was not the case at all. He arrived in all white carrying a vile of the magic oil. He took a seat outside at the top of the steps in clear view of everyone. People immediately started throwing numbers at him. He smiled and gestured for them to begin coming up. One at a time people removed their shirts, or pulled up their pant legs, and the healer would snap them into alignment. It looked a lot like a combination of chiropracting and bone snapping. A man gave me number and shoved me toward the healer. He looked at me blankly as I tried to explain my old injury with my elbow that has caused grinding and random pain. I decided just to take my shirt off. He cracked my back. I pointed at my elbow, he rubbed some oil on it, grabbed my hand, and CRACK! He pulled my hand so hard my elbow snapped. I asked him if I should come back; he shook his head no. Leaning forward and grabbing my elbow, I limped down the stairs.
Why, why, why? I was in so much pain. In India, a healer/Guru did the same thing to me. Snap. Both times, I was left in great pain and my elbow grinded more than ever. I was bitter in many ways that I drove hours to get here just to have my elbow snapped by a dude dressed in white with a bottle of sesame oil. I mean, Wahe Guru! I appreciate his service to humanity and his obvious compassion for his fellow man; but perhaps he is overdoing his healing capacity trying to see hundreds of patients everyday. This experience taught me a great lesson: we can’t rely or search for the “quick fix.” Sometimes taking a shortcut can actually set you back or get you lost. True healing take time, introspection, and gentleness.
The next morning I went to Besakih temple. I was absolutely horrified by the way I greeted into the mother temple. A man told me I could not enter because I was white unless I took a special route with him. He took me to his home, dressed me up in some traditional Balinese clothes, and took me right back to where we started. I walked unnoticed into the temple and the man began trying to give me a tour of the temple. Meanwhile, I was given flowers to offer, and then asked for money. With every step, someone trying to sell me something greeted me. I told everyone I just wanted to pray. I walked into the temple with my head down and fell to my knees. I looked around and saw piles of rubbish everywhere. The mother temple was littered with plastic and the burnt remains of “offerings.” The “tour guide” quickly realized that I was not there to take pictures and didn’t give a shit about the history of the stone buildings; so, he asked for his clothes back!
I could not believe my eyes. Garbage was everywhere and people haggling each other filled the temple. The temple is huge, many buildings and small temples sprawled across the hills. I put my head down, hands in prayer mudra, and booked it up the stairs to the highest temple. I thought I could find peace here to offer a prayer to Mt. Angun and give my thanks to Mother Bali. I fell to my knees at the alter and opened my heart to our Great Mother Earth. With every cell in my body, I offered myself to her. Here I am mom; I am here to serve you, please guide me. Please forgive your children, many are lost and forgot the gifts that you have given us. I am here to celebrate your natural beauty, to preserve your slender, and to raise awareness that we are living on and with a living being.
As emotion swelled in my heart, the high priest placed a small bundle of flowers and incense on the ground in front of me. I bowed my head in gratitude and sent my prayer into the ethers through the sacred smoke. As I got up to leave, a boy behind the alter spoke to me, “You leave a donation here.” “Excuse me?” I replied. “Yes, you pay,” he said. Being in a tender space with my heart completely open, I felt like I had been stabbed. “I just gave my heart, is that not enough?” I turned to leave and the head priest followed me, saying, “You pay donation.” At this point, I had already paid the “tourist fee” to get into the temple, gave money to the “tour guide,” and paid a sweet old lady too much for a coconut. I pulled the rest of my money out of my pouch and placed it in the flowers.
My eyes filled with tears as I began my descent down the temple. Brothers, sisters, why? What are we doing? We celebrate existence by building temples that crumble, we burn “offerings” without awareness of the sacredness of our actions, we celebrate God by throwing parties that create piles of plastic trash, all the while we try to make money off each other’s devotion. This is no way to live. In the past I truly believed I could “help” this problem. Perhaps I can create organizations to help the “clean-up” or I can help educate people and raise awareness. But this experience struck me deeply to the core. I am not here to pick up other’s trash, nor do I want to. People will continue to live like pigs until a better system is offered or they drive themselves into despair. Accepting this reality lifted a large weight off my back.
It is time for the true Kings (and Queens) to claim the throne. I am currently reading a book titled, “Political Ponerology.” A Polish scientist wrote it in the 1960’s about his studies of “evil.” Due to fear of losing the research and being killed for releasing it, he kept it hidden until he was an old man. In a nutshell, he proves that a small minority of the human race lacks emotion, therefore, they act without any conscience. The scary thing is: these people know they are different, they thrive off of power, they enjoy watching “normal” people suffer, and they can recognize their “own kind.” Wildly, the majority of our world leaders fall into this small minority of psychopaths (especially the ones who are “really” calling the shots). Ultimately, this will continue to lead us into catastrophe and our world will continue to suffer. Unless, “normal” people find a way to regain power and create a system that will not allow for psychopaths to have any responsibility or power of the well-being of others.
Rainbow Kingdoms of peace and love need to resurrect.  In these kingdoms, the earth will be celebrated, cared for, and lived in harmony with. During times of celebration, perhaps we will plant trees, make music, or share a temescal ceremony. Food and water will be rich in life and in bounty. People will fall into spaces in the community where they thrive: farmers will have freedom to grow a variety of plants, Chefs will come together to create an environment where they have ultimate creativity and access to an abundance of high quality ingredients, healers will help our tribe stay healthy, teachers will help to guide the children, artists will help beautiful the land with living art, musicians will play music in the fields and in the forest for all to hear and enjoy, dancers will share their spontaneity and joy for life with others, mothers will raise children with the elements, and so on and so forth. No massive temples will be erected to praise God. We will grow trees, plant flowers, keep the waters clean, sing, dance, meditate, make love, raise children, share stories over the fire, rest, laugh, and ponder the cosmos. We will live like human beings; quality over quantity. They will serve as an example for the rest of the world as to our true potential for living in harmony with Mother Earth. When in this space, fear does not exist. Nature completely takes over. This is the way of the Tao.

Smiling Buddha

After spending two full weeks at the Meditasi “Smiling Buddha” bungalows, I spent one of my final nights under the full moon, eating Tempeh Curry and soaking in the vibes of Live Balinese dance. Sitting in the back of the familiar restaurant, I begin to observe “The” Smiling Buddha ( As smoke billows from his seemingly endless clove cigarette, we connect eyes and he lets out a slight smile. “Open hearts and Smiles” he roars to the crowd enjoying the ambience (a term we coined together). The dance continues. The young girl dressed in traditional Balinese dress with flowers in her hair begins to gracefully move to the music. Smiling Buddha overlooks the crowd, taking his time with his smoke. “Bravo Bravo” exclaims rising up from this chair. Sarong, fire red scarf around his waste and matching shirt, with a black traditional head wrap: this man is one of a kind.
I recognized his savvy business skills and high intellect immediately. I knew I was going to stay here for an extended bit, so I tried to strike a deal with him on the 1st day. As his place is “top rated” Lonely Planet  and well reviewed, he is set in his prices (as he should be). He made it extremely clear that if I stayed two weeks or longer, he would give me around a 15% discount from the daily rate. Not a day less than two weeks. Very clear. I really like this, and I made it clear that I appreciated his clarity: like a blue diamond cutting through the clouds. Pseeew!
From that moment on, it felt like we were kin. He offered me a cup of Bali coffee and a smoke, which I declined, but we shared a few deep belly laughs. He reminds me of Trinidad Charly, an incredibly talented Hot Sauce maker in the Caribbean. These men are super Irie; always with a smoke in their hand living in a subtle state of zen. Even when these men are super deep in though, or seem concerned, they can immediately break out in spontaneous laughter or a huge grin. For me, both of these incredibly creative, talented men are a spectacle and great businessman to observe.
A handpicked posse of incredible people always seems to surround Smiling Buddha; it is like he is a bright sun with a collection of flowering planets orbiting him. While he contemplates and smokes, his well-trained, competent crew happily gets things done. A bolt of genius will strike him, or an executive decision needs to be made and Smiling Buddha will communicate it clearly. I have watched him continue to generate new ways of advertising or catching people’s eye to bring them to Meditasi. We have also discussed his future plans for development, which include a copper ceiling covered in bogeanvalia flowers for his public meditation cave.
I have witnessed Smiling Buddha build relationships and take care of his friends, employees, and guests. Everyone that works hear is always smiling, super happy to help, and seems to know exactly what their role is. It truly feels like being part of a large family who is working together to keep the space beautiful, the earth flourishing with life, and the people nourished and happy.
If the stars align, one day it would be an absolute treat to bring a group of yogis to this space to enjoy a time of chanting, yoga, meditation, healthy eating, and swimming!