When was the last time you allowed yourself to see the magnificence of the ocean? When was the last time you laughed, enjoying the playfulness of the waves? Do you remember the rays of Sun on the water, evoking the magic spiraling shapes that reflect on the white sand like a rainbow? The sensation of the sand between your toes allowing you to be one with the Earth? Or the taste of salt while you dive in the sacred waters? The laughing children building sand castles and the sensation of vitality and renewal as you leave the beach after floating freely?
There are moments in life that invite us to stop. Sometimes an event that staggers our reality, an injury, the ending of a relationship, change of job, something that re-directs our vision or simply the desire and will to allow ourselves the opportunity to have fun and live a simple happy life.
In the present, to give ourselves the space to relax, is a decision to be made. The “do nothing” attitude has become a difficult art to master. Each day we ego through life juggling home, work, children, relationships, nutrition, health, family and responsibilities. Dedicating a small amount of time to each activity on our list can result in days, weeks or months without a moment of silence and stillness. Fortunately, with a slight openness, life always surprises us with fantastic opportunities to stop and start over. Like the moon, life is cyclical.
A few years ago I took my mind and body to its extreme. My workload took me to worrisome states of physical, emotional and mental health. On the brink of collapse, life brought me to the Caribbean. It took just one day by the sea to decide this would be my new home. I left everything and headed for the Mayan Riviera. The only things on my agenda were to practice yoga and be close to the ocean. A few weeks of vacation turned into years of Caribbean life, yoga and music.
The ocean is my temple. The sacred place that reminds me of the magnificence of the divine. Where life surprises me each day with its beauty and infinite forms. It’s on the beach that I can hear the grand orchestra that is the spirit, the birds, the rocks, the trees and the plants that unite with the wind to touch the sky and welcome the light of dawn. Before motherhood, I insisted there was nothing more divine than witnessing a sunset on the beach. Now, I believe that there is nothing more divine than my son – and sharing a sunset by the ocean with him.
The ocean is the Great Mother always receiving us with open arms. A presence that cures. Her waters comfort, renew and give back a pure desire to live fully. She is the mother that always reminds us that we are cared for and protected. She invites us to trust in the divine, in something greater than us and what makes the world dance. The water murmurs that we are all a drop of the great ocean. That everything changes and life is a moment to be lived with heart and Soul.
To have the opportunity of spending time in the ocean is one of the greatest gifts of life. And to share that moment with people we love is priceless. Those moments are what give us a life purpose. Moments that inspire us to be better humans for ourselves and for others. The ocean reminds us of our essence, the greatness, the unity, the divinity and the beauty. It just takes a moment on the shoreline to feel the innocence, our capacity of astonishment and the joy of our playful spirit.
Last year we had the first Sat Nam Fest on the beach. When I knew this was happening in Puerto Morelos, it felt like a dream come true. The music I love, the practice that nurtures my life, the teachers and artists I so greatly admire would be here, together with the ocean. I could imagine what it would be and in the end the festival surpassed all my expectations.
I remember my skin bristling, arriving at the beach while the stars and moon still shined. Yogis dressed in white, in silence, barefoot, placing their mats on the sand, the ocean accompanying us with its whisper. We recognized each other, with gratitude. We sat in front of the stage with the ocean in the background, which we could feel but not see. We recited JapJi, practiced morning yoga and then – my favorite part – Aquarian Sadhana chants with live music. We sang, accompanied by the waves and the first birds, announcing the sunrise was nearing. I remember the artists sharing their heart songs with their music and angelic voices. Feeling the last steps of the sun before being born, as if it called from deep in the earth announcing its arrival.
I tried not to open my eyes, but my Soul said otherwise. It had a profound call to witness that sublime moment when the first hint of the Sun’s rays appear on the waters of the ocean. My chant reached a new level of devotion. It was a moment when I experienced deeply the meaning of Wahe Guru – one of the mantras that I had sung for years. “Wahe Guru,” I sang to the Sun, to the ocean, to life, to our community, with authentic devotion and appreciation that can only exist in the heart and be expressed through the body and voice. That was when I felt the profound ecstasy of the words, the ecstasy of going from darkness to light and to witness this light coming alive through hundreds of voices surrounding me, singing with the same gratitude and love. Together appreciating the great gift that it is to be alive.
I can’t wait to reunite with the community in the presence of the Great Mother sea. I am excited to welcome yogis from all over the world. This year, teachers and practitioners from Colombia, Chile, Argentina, Brazil, USA, Spain and Mexico have responded to the call of Sat Nam Fest at the beach. A week of profound transformation through Kundalini Yoga, music, and beautiful sharing together with the sun and the ocean.
I look forward to see the grand family again – the Souls we have walked with together for years and other new faces that I know we will instantly feel like brothers and sisters.
I sigh and wait for November.
See you at the beach. Sat Naam.