Last May I returned to Italy for two weeks.

While I was there I visited Montefiascone, Civita de Bagnoregio, Orvieto, and Assisi,

and afterwards I returned to a place in Tuscany that I’d been to once before.

As I came up over the last hill, and glimpsed the familiar vineyards,

my eyes filled with tears.

Because even though I had only been to Fattoria del Colle once before,

it felt a bit like coming home.

As soon as I arrived,

one of the waiters found me a seat at a celebration meal that was already in motion.

It didn’t matter that I hadn’t been invited,

or that I wasn’t expected,

just that I was there.

Here you go. Here’s a plate. And cutlery.

Family style plates were passed down to me.

Everything smelled delicious.

I had arrived in the middle of the second or third course and around me people were laughing and talking, enjoying the slow pace of a well-prepared lunch.

At some point,

it was mentioned that I was a vegetarian,

and a special dish of vegetables was immediately prepared and delivered to my seat.

I turned to Jane, at whose invitation I was there, and laughed that I was not even hungry.

She had arrived before me and experienced a similar welcome.

We were early for her retreat that was going to start in a couple of days,

and we had come in upon a lunch that was being served in honor of the bishop’s presence.

I had missed his presiding over mass earlier in the small family chapel that is part of the estate of Fattoria del Colle, the vineyard and agriturismo that is run by the regal Donatella. (I believe that she is the only female wine master in Italy.)

It was Donatella’s estate that I was returning to, and in her rooms that I would be sleeping for the following week. And her presence fills the whole place. Everyone there exudes her same hospitality. They make you feel at home.

Jane runs several retreats in Italy every year, and we were celebrating the release of her book at this one. She was offering yoga and massage, and had invited an astrology teacher. We were expecting a large group from all over the world.

But first we had a couple of days to adjust and settle in.

This time I stayed in a room on the edge of this courtyard garden.

From my windows, I could see the lemon trees.

It was as dreamy as I had remembered,

and newly magical.

This regal bedroom is where my precious friend Cherrie stayed, who came to offer massage on Jane’s retreat.

The retreat staff got to eat together and hang out for a day or so before guests arrived.

We wandered the nearby town, Trequanda.

And of course dreamed of what it would be like to live all year long on the sweet pace at which life rolls in Tuscany.

Cherrie and I went on a drive through the countryside to a nearby vineyard.

Spring was in full bloom everywhere. Such a perfect time to be in Italy!

I had time to watch the sunset (and rise!) from a hidden courtyard.

And of course plenty of time for coffee and homemade Italian biscuits.

When the guests arrived, our days were filled with yoga and teaching and long visits around the table.

We also made a group day trip to nearby Siena.

It was my first time to Siena, and though it was a bit cold and rainy, we made the most of it.

I took lots of photos of classic Italian town corners, doors and alleys.

I love all the colors.

And arches!

And leather of course! Cherrie and I finished up all our souvenir shopping in Siena.

It was impossible to find a time when everyone was together, but this is a good portion of our group of retreaters before we completely scattered over Siena.

When I got up early on my last morning in Italy to drive to the airport, I said a sad goodbye to these Tuscan hills as I drove.

But I always promise to return as I fly away. From my very first trip to Italy many years ago, I knew I would come back again and again.

Knowing I will return frees me to enjoy the days in slow motion, not having to see everything at once.

On each trip I take in just a little bit more of the beauty of Italy, a new town or two. A new walk in an old town. And then I also return to familiar and well-loved places.

Looking at these photos makes me super grateful that I’ve already got Italy on the calendar again for 2020.

Want to go to Fattoria del Colle with me on a Radiant Jane Tuscany Italy Retreat?

I’ll be heading back in April! Details here. I would LOVE to have you come along to experience dreamy days in Tuscany with me!

The post Snapshots of Tuscany: Return to Fattoria del Colle appeared first on Alison Chino.

Back in June, as part of my Yoga Teacher Training, I taught a yoga class that is hosted by area churches called Be Still and Know.

Be Still and Know is a restorative yoga class that is both gentle movement and spiritual practice. It’s a beautiful collection of the things I love most about yoga!

It was so fun for me to walk through the experience of putting this yoga class together, so I thought I would share the themes and my (very rough draft) sequence drawing that I used.

The stars in the script are the break in the content where I added movement.

Script for Be Still and Know Class:

Psalm 46:10 is the verse where we find the words “Be Still and Know.”

The command to be still in this verse comes from the Hebrew verb that translates:

to be weak

to let go

to release

To be still is to let go.

When we are still, we release control.

We release striving.

We can be present to this moment.

***

Recently I read a story from Sue Monk Kidd’s book When the Heart Waits that has been helpful to me as I have sought stillness in my own life.

While she is visiting an abbey on a retreat, she tells this story:

One day after morning prayers, I walked to the edge of the pond and sat on the grass. I listened to the wind sigh over the water and tried to be still, to simply be there and wait in the moment. But almost instantly my inner chaos rose up. The need to keep moving, to act, to solve everything overpowered me. I got to my feet.

As I returned to the guest quarters, I noticed a monk, ski cap pulled over his ears, sitting perfectly still beneath a tree. There was such reverence in his silhouette, such tranquil sturdiness, that I paused to watch. He was the picture of waiting. 

Later I sought him out, “I saw you today sitting beneath the tree — just sitting so still. How is it that you can wait so patiently in the moment? I just can’t seem to get used to the idea of doing nothing.”

He broke into a wonderful grin. “Well, there’s the problem right there, young lady. You’ve bought into the cultural myth that when you’re waiting you’re doing nothing.”

Then he took his hands and placed them on my shoulders, peered straight into my eyes and said, “I hope you’ll hear what I’m about to tell you. I hope you’ll hear it all the way down to your toes. When you’re waiting, you’re not doing nothing. You’re doing the most important something there is. You’re allowing your soul to grow up. If you can’t be still and wait, you can’t become what God created you to be.”

When you’re waiting, you’re not doing nothing.

You’re doing the most important something there is.

***

Stillness, along with solitude and silence, is a place of becoming. Of transformation.

Our stillness, the undisturbed glass lake of our soul, is a place we can always come back to, like child’s pose.

After the wind blows and waves rise on our lake, we can return again to stillness. The waves can subside. The wind can get quiet. We can be still again.

Our bodies get still first, but then slowly we can also be still in our minds.

Let go.

Let go of what we need to do.

Let go of what we didn’t get done today.

Can we be still?

When you’re being still,

you’re not doing nothing.

You’re doing the most important something there is.

***

On the days we wake up overwhelmed with all the things we have to do, when our minds are rushed with thoughts of everything that must be done, can we be still?

In these moments, to be still is both

a way to trust

and

a way to quietly, bravely rebel.

When there is so much to do and we refuse to rush,

but instead we stop

and be still,

we are courageously choosing not to conform to the ways of the world.

***

When the rush of the to do list is coming for us like a tidal wave,

but instead of trying to outrun it,

we stop

and be still.

We are trusting.

Trusting that God will take care of us.

He will not let the wave come crashing down on us.

Or if He allows the waters to rise around us, He will also provide what we need.

We can say:

Oh Lord, I know you will not let me drown.

And so I will be still.

These are the silent assents we make when we choose stillness.

Quiet brave declarations that we will choose stillness over hurry.

When you’re waiting, you’re not doing nothing.

You’re doing the most important something there is.

May you have the courage to be still this week. 

The post Be Still appeared first on Alison Chino.

Over a month ago (or maybe it was a lifetime ago), we flew to Guatemala to join Taido’s family for a week on Lake Atitlán and a few days in Antigua.

My mother-in-law has been raving about the beauty of this lake for years, so we were excited to leave winter in Northern Europe to meet her and Taido’s sister + boyfriend among the hammocks and papaya trees.

Getting to the lake is an adventure in itself…after flying for many hours and spending a night in Guatemala City, we made our way via shuttle bus and boat to what would be our home for a week.

In order to stay in the resort my mother-in-law loves so much on the week our boys were out of school, we were officially joined onto a yoga retreat that was taking place there. Maybe the most delightful surprise of our time in Guatemala was how much we enjoyed both the events and the people (oh, the people!) on this retreat.

I left Lake Atitlán filled with gratitude for all the treasures of this very special week in Guatemala.

Here are a just a few of those treasures:

waking up to the views of the calm lake every morning

slipping out to get coffee with Taido while the boys were still sleeping

watching fishermen pass slowly by in their boats

morning yoga in a thatched roof-covered studio overlooking the lake

setting intentions

eye contact for longer than is comfortable

strangers becoming friends

walking in the sun to a nearby mountain village

volcanos disappearing behind the clouds that rolled in predictably every afternoon

watching the lake transform from calm glass to wild waves throughout the day

boys in kayaks

afternoons by the pool while the boys went swimming

Ben talking me into jumping into the (cold!) lake

the humility (and laughter) over having to be pulled out of the lake by others when I could not hoist myself back onto the dock

solar heated hot tub

boys running free

thick, homemade blue corn tortillas, still warm from the griddle

guacamole

crazy variety of herbal teas

smoothies with ginger and mint and lime with fun names like pure joy and gratitude

curries and stews and hummus and tahini dressing

grated carrot and beet salads

polenta lasagna

huevos rancheros

tumeric tea

homemade granola and yogurt

the sweet sound of a hang drum being played

reading and napping in hammocks

golden bamboo

mosaic stone walk ways

making friends (or peace) with spiders

hiking outings

riding standing up in the back of a pick-up truck

boat taxis

laughter

picnic lunch under shady trees

walking and talking

crossroads coffee blessings

exploring villages and towns around the lake

ceramic bird whistles

school murals and community projects

gorgeous spaces

tropical flowers

explosions of color

midday sun

aloe plants for treating sunburn

quiet

sunrise meditations and sunset shavasanas

private sessions

learning new ways to move

yoga dance

singing around a fire

salsa dancing lessons

open hearts

sweet spirits

hearing stories

prayers

sharing gratitude

holding space for each other

evening pink sky reflected on the yoga studio floor

volcanos and clouds turning shades of purple

star-filled night skies

sweet farewells

In addition to all of the above, I feel super fortunate that I had the opportunity to meet yoga instructor extraordinaire Jurian Hughes, and her assistant for week Adriana Robertson, who taught us all how to salsa – the MOST fun! I am hugely hopeful that our paths will cross again.

Special thanks to Taido’s mama for the gift of such a special holiday together and to all of our family for their adventurous spirits, generous hearts and open presence. AND to all the members of this retreat who accepted us into their fold and let us join their dance.

The post Snapshots of Guatemala appeared first on Alison Chino.

A Story about Yoga {On the Beach}

It was that time of day when the light is so magical you can hardly bear to tear yourself away from staring at the horizon, except that there are young children with you who do not care about the color of the sky. They care about making it to the climbing wall before it closes.

And so we were walking towards the gym at the resort where we were staying in Mauritius, and we passed a gentleman who was carrying a roll of yoga mats under his arm.

I stopped him to ask about yoga and it was starting in ten minutes. On the beach. At sunset.

Sally graciously allowed me to leave our party and follow Roj back to the beach.

I have an up and down relationship with yoga, which is strange because I enjoy it immensely. If I charted my yoga frequency, I’m pretty certain it would look something like this:

Winter: Almost Zero
Summer: Lots

I know that my muscles need yoga (and exercise) in the winter but it just feels better in the summer.

Yoga clothes are summerish. Beachy.

Sun salutations work best for me when there’s a sun to salute.

So being in Mauritius where the breeze is warm and the air is soft opened my heart wide up for yoga. And for all that yoga on the beach in Mauritius has to offer:

Breathing in the sea air.

Balancing in the warm wind.

Walking barefoot on crushed seashells as a form of acupuncture for tired feet. (Yes, really)

Soft light and softer voices.

Kicking sand on your mat and brushing it off again.

Slower than slow sun salutations. Light, simple movements that remind you that you never want to be in a hurry again.

No rushing. Just being.

Receiving praise for doing something so simple. Taking time to stretch. To pull yourself wide and just be still.

Falling over from your tree pose into the sand and being put at ease by a new instructor’s soft guidance. A kind reminder to take your time.

I love to meet a good yoga teacher. I have done some yoga teacher training myself and I have so much awe for instructors who can lead a class and maintain an air of relaxation themselves. A good yoga instructor’s voice draws you in to their circle of peace, their good vibes are part of your experience.

Roj was definitely all good vibes. You would never know it, but by day he is a headmaster of an all boys’ school. Practicing and teaching yoga is an outlet from the stress of his daily life, and he teaches classes at Long Beach three evenings a week. They are free to attend for guests or private sessions can be arranged as well.

What a gift to get to practice yoga in such a magical setting!

Simon and I were sent to Mauritius, along with Sally and Flea, as part of our role this year as First Choice Out of Office Bloggers. First Choice has chosen five bloggers to visit their resorts in 2014 and blog about them. I’m feeling super thankful for the privilege and already looking forward to my next trip Out of Office!

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If you’ve been following me since our last visit to Crested Butte, you know that I enjoy some mountain yoga.  I went to four different classes the last time I was here, and wrote about every single one of them. (See yoga archives.)

When we first arrived, I went to check the schedules at the studio I went to last time and sadly, it had been transformed into an art studio with a pottery painting venue underneath.  No more wheat grass juice bar.  No more bikram yoga.

So it took me a day or two to make it over to the new (to me) place in town.  Yoga for the Peaceful.

When I picked up a schedule, I recognized the main instructor, Monica Mesa, from my last visit.  She taught one of the classes I went to in 2007.  I remember it as being very challenging, so I opted for an “open levels” class to start.

I walked the trail into town with Simon, meeting Taido and the kids at the park after they had returned their bikes.  By the time I got to the studio I was a little late (and a little winded), but I tiptoed in and rolled my mat out on the dark wooden floor in the back and joined in.

Catching up, I was several poses in before I even began to take in my surroundings.  The studio has a beautiful organic feel, with Japanese silk screens separating the yoga space from the entrance and boutique on one side and windows that open to the street on the other.  The yoga props at the back of the space are all made of wood in deep colors, as are the lockers for your belongings.

Everything seems made to feel as nurturing and simple as the practice of yoga.  In other words, I could curl up in a little corner of the room and stay there forever.

The instructor, Tiffany, gracefully led us through a series of poses mostly based around lunges, which was heaven for my aching and unaccustomed-to-so-much-time-on-a-mountain-bike thighs.  We did poses that were very familiar and ones that I’d never seen before.  I love learning new ways to use a familiar yoga posture.  I later tried to draw/write them out so that I could remember them.  (I never remember them.)  There were lots of twists and an undulating version of  downward dog that I found to be absolutely poetic.

Right this minute I’m thinking I’m going to put all my living room furniture out on the street and turn the better part of my house into a yoga studio when I get home so I can teach all my friends this whole waving dog thing.  (You’ll love it, I promise!)

I felt so happy that I’d come and so refreshed that I decided to walk the trail back home instead of taking the shuttle.  I was sorry about halfway up the hill when my legs felt like they could not go any further and a storm was blowing in.  But the breeze before the rain was so lovely, and the sun over one mountain facing off the clouds on another just amazed me.  And already I felt like God was showing off his mighty power and beauty as I was walking the mountain path, but then behold.  A rainbow.  A huge arch of rainbow all the way over the mountain.  So big that I couldn’t even get it all in one picture.  Plus I was getting rained on and blown away so I could hardly see to take a picture.

Still, I took a couple that don’t even do it justice.  Such glorious, majestic beauty.  And it may sound crazy but practicing yoga (and all the praying and meditating and even sometimes, crying, that goes along with it) opens my heart up to see these kinds of miracles.  I experience God’s glory disproportionately often around the times I go to yoga.

And also around the times I am in the mountains.  That’s why I love them so.

I can’t wait to come back and enjoy more Crested Butte yoga!

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I guess that I could go to yoga for the rest of my life and still, years from now, be learning new poses. I am always amazed that there is something new with each class. A position I haven’t heard of before. Or a new way to move my body. I have lived and operated this body that is me for a long time and still…I didn’t know it could bend that way. Today it was the breath of joy.  How can you not smile when your yoga instructor says,

Next we are going to move through a series called the breath of joy.

With each lift, as you fill your lungs, breathe in the newness that is spring.

She was all over spring this morning. It is 60 degrees in Arkansas today and the daffodils and cherry blossoms are smiling at me from around every corner. We had this crazy unusual snow last week and i saw pink blossoms topped with snow. Dusted really. They looked so delicate. The hope of spring underneath the late snow. So pretty. The images filled my head as I moved this morning. The breath of joy.

Filling up my lungs and heart with so much hope. I am ready for spring.

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Starting monday morning (and therefore my week) with yoga is one of the most sane choices i make in my schedule.

And this morning, it did not disappoint.

Our instructor worked us hard, but in yoga, you don’t realize how hard you are working.

You’re just following…moving, holding, listening, moving, holding again, and on and on.

Then before i know it, i am drenched in sweat and falling heavily into the earth.

I knew this morning that I was going to have trouble focusing.

I woke up feeling sort of exposed.

For many reasons, some that make sense and some that are completely figments of my imagination, but there you go…still, somehow, I found myself feeling just a wee bit vulnerable.

The events of the last week or so have shaken me up a bit i suppose and even this morning as i was going over some things I was studying, I just kept becoming distracted.

So as i was pulling out my things for yoga I grabbed my mantra list. This is what I am calling this list from a book I am studying with my girlfriends. We are reading and answering questions that have mostly to do with focusing on our identity in Jesus.

The whole point of the study is to be free to live out of who we are.

And in order to do this, one must actually know who he or she is.

In Christ.

So at the beginning of the study there is an entire list of declarations of who I am in Christ that I am supposed to be saying out loud every morning and every evening.

That is the goal. Mostly the three of us are just trying to say them whenever we can and the idea is that eventually the lies in our brains about who we are will be replaced with the truth about who we truly are.

It sounds tedious and simple and self-help-y, I know, but you can’t believe how it actually works. And as with all things spiritual in my life, the messages I am repeating to myself are also popping up in other places.

We have been singing this song for several weeks at church called I Know Who I Am.

The whole song is about being certain of your place as a child of God, belonging, free. When this song was first introduced, it seemed simple and almost trite to me, but now that I have been repeating it for several weeks, it is working its way into my heart and I love to sing it.

I love to declare, again and out loud that I am confident of who I am as a precious child of God. It lifts up my soul.

Also, I am hearing these same messages in a David Crowder Band song that I would not have even found were it not for the need to stay awake driving home from Taos. Taido had the ipod completely loaded with mellow songs and rap music, and so I listened to this one upbeat worship playlist about 14 times, camping on this song that repeats the lyric,

You make everything glorious

You make everything glorious

And I am yours,

So what does that make me?

Again, a declaration that I belong to God and that I have value (even glory) just on the basis of that truth.

When I meditate on that for a while, it overwhelms me. Amazes me. And again, lifts up my soul.

So, like I said, on the way to yoga this morning, I grabbed one phrase from the list of declarations.

My eyes were scanning the now familiar list and trying to just hold onto one in particular to take with me into yoga.

To chant.

So I can focus.

And when my eyes landed on it, i quickly said it a few times and took off, as I was running late.

And it wasn’t until I had chanted it for about half of the class that i realized why I had clutched that specific phrase today.

Of course. Just what I needed for today.

Which is how God works. It is a huge advantage of being all-knowing and all-powerful. He always knows. Always provides.

And as I fell into my mat at the end into shavasana, a place of total surrender.

Open. Vulnerable. Exposed.

But at rest and at peace, I said it again:

I am hidden with Christ in God.

The post A Story About Finding My Hiding Place appeared first on Alison Chino.

My newest yoga instructor’s name is Jeanie.

She is precious, I tell you.

But honestly,  I think I have yet to meet a yoga instructor I didn’t like.

Jeanie has blond hair, the usual yoga body and, get this, she’s had seven children.  You heard me.  Seven.  They are all grown, and so now she uses her time to teach yoga and play with her grandchildren.  She’s aging gracefully.

Her class is challenging, but she is gentle.

Now that I’ve been to her class a few times I can kind of pinpoint what it is that she does that I really like.

She frequently starts the class by telling us to let go of any judgments, harsh thoughts or comparisons.  Directed at ourselves or others.  This is always a good idea, and this morning it was a really good idea, because the girl next to me weighed 106 pounds soaking wet.  Also, she did everything perfectly.  I am usually careful not to practice next to someone like that, but she came in after me.

I had to come back to that letting go of comparisons bit several times throughout the 70 minute class.  We did a lot of twisting and lunging. Lots of warrior poses.

Jeanie had some funky drum music going on that was a nice change of pace.  After all the pulling and twisting and standing on one leg, we finally get to savasana, which is basically lying down flat on your back.  It’s also called final relaxation.

I appreciate that Jeanie never rushes savasana.  And she almost says, You’ve made it to savasana.  All your hard work has been for this moment. 

She’s proud of us.

During savasana, she comes around and gently massages our shoulders, neck and temples with this amazing stuff that opens your nasal passages and helps you breathe and relax and just sink into your mat.  It is so great.

When it’s over, Whitney and I are like giggling for how much we love it.

Today we got brave and bombarded her with questions after class, the first one being Where oh where can we get our hands on some of that stuff??

Apparently it’s called China gel and you can get it from Amazon.

Also we asked her when and where else she teaches classes, you know, so we can follow her around the entire Central Arkansas area until one day, maybe we’ll accidentally be the only two people in class and we’ll get full body massages with the China gel.  It could happen!

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