Rooted in Community

Hello dear friend,

Thank you so much for opening this letter and for taking the time to read it! 🙂

A couple of weeks ago, we had a major snowstorm here, and depending on where you are in the world, you might have been impacted by it too. I hope you and your loved ones are safe and doing well.

I cannot believe how much snow landed in such a short period of time!

I was joking with a few of our neighbors that by the time spring arrives, we’ll all emerge from our homes with some serious biceps from all the shoveling!

During the snowstorm, I caught myself wishing that I could rush through the rest of winter to feel the renewed energy that spring brings.

I’ve noticed that my mind and body tend to favor the transitional or in-between seasons–spring and fall. I find that spring awakens my creative and innovative spirit, while fall brings out an adventurous, curious, and playful side of me.

With that said, over the past few years, I’ve been learning to honor each season and the unique lessons and gifts they bring. And yes, this includes winter too!

Winter is often regarded as a time to retreat inward, seeking the warmth, comfort, and security of our homes. It’s a season that invites us to slow down and reflect as we journey deeper into our own consciousness. This season invites us to surrender to periods of rest and moments of quiet stillness, giving us the time and space to integrate the insights, lessons, and wisdom received over the year. It’s a time to reconnect with ourselves, preparing our minds and bodies to emerge from our homes in the spring with renewed energy and purpose.

Even knowing what this season asks of us, I was unable to shake the strong desire to do the opposite. I felt this strong urge to go for a walk on the day we had the most snowfall. I saw this moment as an opportunity to listen to my body and trust its message, just as we’re invited to do so on our mats during our somatic practices.

Of course, if it wasn’t safe for me to explore, I would’ve turned back, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that most of the sidewalks were already cleared. There was one small stretch, though, that hadn't been cleared. I lost my balance and just about fell into a massive pile of snow. If I had fallen into this pile, it would’ve been pretty funny as I would have been swallowed by the snow. I often write to you about connecting with nature, but I never imagined it almost happening in such a funny and unexpected way!

During my walk, I saw many people shoveling sidewalks and driveways, with neighbors helping each other out. I saw people chatting and some were laughing–likely in complete disbelief at the amount of snow that had accumulated in a short period of time. Those with snow blowers were clearing sidewalks and roads. I saw people working together towards a common goal of clearing snow, and making things safe and accessible for all.

As I walked I could feel this strong sense of connection and community.

I observed people selflessly offering their time, energy, and tools to help those in their community, without expecting anything in return.

I’ve noticed that shared experiences–especially the challenging ones–have a way of bringing us together. Differences often fade into the background, and are replaced by a sense of unity and oneness.

Although the snow was cold and heavy, people’s hearts were undeniably warm and light, full of compassion and care for their neighbors' well-being. What a contrast!

I’m grateful for that inner nudge to go for a walk, as this winter wonderland adventure reminded me of the importance of community.

While online communities definitely have their value, there’s something truly unique about face-to-face interactions, whether it’s with one person or a group of people.

One of my highlights last year was the time I spent at the community garden.

I remember going to the garden with the expectation that I’d be there for no more than an hour–just pulling weeds, trimming, watering, and harvesting whatever was ready. But that hour often turned into two or three hours, because I didn’t expect that being part of a community garden would mean socializing!

Each time my husband and I went to tend to our garden, we’d see several other community members caring for their gardens as well. When they saw us, these warm, kind souls would come over to talk. They would still compliment our garden, offer help, and share their advice on growing and harvesting. Knowing that we were inexperienced gardeners, they were eager to share their wisdom and skills with us. After helping us with our garden, they’d invite us to take a look at what they were growing in their plots.

Later on in the season, they shared some of their herbs and vegetables with us, along with their favorite recipes. This is how I learned that adding mint to tabbouleh is a total game-changer–I cannot eat tabbouleh without mint now! It’s just sooooo good!

We shared stories with each other and offered support whenever it was needed.

The more we spoke, the deeper the trust grew, opening us up to vulnerability, which helped us form stronger connections.

There was this strong sense of belonging, support, and safety–an unspoken understanding that we had each other’s backs.

Being part of a community can bring forth important lessons and can lead to inner growth. The lessons I’ve learned from my time at the community garden are ones that will remain with me.

One big takeaway is that sometimes the best plan is to have no plan at all–just to go with the flow of life. By embracing flow, we open ourselves up to opportunities, lessons, connections, and blessings that can lead to growth, discovery, and healing.

While plans certainly have their place, I often wonder if they can sometimes close us off from life’s mysteries.

How would it feel to let go of the need to plan everything and create space for spontaneity? This is a question that I continue to explore, both on and off the mat. During our practices, there’s an invitation to listen to your body and find what feels good for you, even when I’m offering guided instruction. The next time you’re on your mat, I invite you to explore how it feels in your body to follow specific verbal instruction, versus how it feels to move intuitively. Pay attention to the thoughts, feelings, emotions, images, and beliefs that surface with a sense of curiosity.

My time at the community garden reminded me of the importance of slowing down to nurture deeper connections with myself, others, and the environment. It’s a lesson I often revisit, as I can slip back into familiar patterns of rushing through tasks just to check them off my to-do list, seeking that momentary sense of relief and satisfaction.

One thing I constantly remind myself is that nature doesn't rush; it simply is. It intuitively knows what to do, guided by the rhythms of the seasons. The herbs in our garden did not just grow overnight; they needed time, patience, and care to thrive and blossom.

When I first started practicing yoga, I was determined to master the pose right away. I was so focused on reaching the end result that I completely overlooked the rewarding journey of gradually and mindfully progressing into the pose.

This mindset can show up in everyday life, where we’re eager to rush from point A to point B as quickly as possible. What I've learned through my own experiences is that the space in between holds the power to transform us from the inside out. Those waiting or slower periods of life are moments of preparation. Just like in nature, there's no need to sprint to the finish line or force a particular outcome. Instead, the invitation is to slow down, enjoy the journey, and trust that things will unfold as they’re intended to, in their own time.

Lastly, I’ve observed and felt the incredible support and love that naturally flows when you’re part of a community. There’s this deep sense of oneness and unity, where we’re all connected by a shared sense of purpose.

There are so many benefits and blessings that come with being part of a community.

As social beings, we’re naturally wired to connect with others, share our experiences, and build relationships.

Communities remind us that we’re here to offer love, compassion, encouragement, and support to one another. We are here to learn and grow together, and to inspire and motivate each other. We’re here to cultivate meaningful relationships with ourselves, others, and the environment.

After all, we are all a part of a global community–Earth–reminding us of our shared connection and purpose.

One of the reasons I created Yoga with Rachel was to build a community–a warm, supportive, and inclusive space where everyone feels welcome and comfortable showing up exactly as they are. A space where we can learn and grow together, cheer each other on, and share experiences with one another. A community that shows compassion when someone is going through a tough time. A space where it’s safe to explore, play, and engage in self-inquiry. Above all, a community that reminds us that we’re all connected, no matter where we’re practicing from, and that we’re all part of each other’s journeys.

I feel so honored that you’ve chosen to be part of this community, and I’m grateful that we get to share in each other’s journeys.

Today’s yoga practice is a grounding one, reminding us of our deep connection to the earth. In moments when we feel alone, disconnected, or unsupported, this practice serves as a gentle reminder that the earth is always there, softly holding us with its unwavering support, nourishment, and love. It helps keep us rooted and steady, in all seasons of life. The earth has your back–and so does this yoga practice!

I welcome you to join me on the mat for this grounding yoga practice. To join, kindly click on the image or the button below.

Here’s your March calendar: https://www.yogawithrachelmarie.com/calendar​

I invite you to join a class when you can!

That’s all I got for you this week.

I hope that you have an amazing day!!!

With gratitude,

~ Rachel