Patricia and Surya Welcome Us to Rolling Meadows Retreat
On an unusually warm day in November, the eve of a powerful new moon, Kyle and I drove through the backroads of Maine to visit a couple who had magnetically pulled us into their sphere.
I came across Rolling Meadows Retreat a few weeks ago upon researching locations in New England at which we could teach and study. My first emails with Patricia and Surya were convincing enough that I knew we had to meet and practice one on one, but it was obvious the internet wasn’t doing them justice the moment I stepped into their home. Not that their correspondence or website are lacking in any sense, but that their beauty is amplified in person. That no newsletter or photo gallery could truly convey what it is to be seated at the kitchen table, smelling the savory goodness of soup brewing with veggies grown on the nearby land. This magical little property and the light workers inhabiting her are everything I could have hoped to encounter and more.
With just the right amount of salty-town-in-the-hills vibes, this farmhouse welcomes you like a big hug from a long lost family member. Her traditional wooden floors have preserved centuries of life, while the spotless white cabinets and ceilings tell the story of how much work has been poured into these walls to actually preserve them. Every corner, hallway, countertop and doorway was accessibly o-p-e-n. Open for me to curiously wander, open for me to feel at ease, open enough that I wasn’t crowded or claustrophobic or intrusive. Open for us all to act exactly as we needed to that day; despite limited time to share information and details, we had all the time in the world for what spirit desired.
This is the good life. Simple. Tidy. Tastefully decorated with glimpses of Patricia’s global footprint, and manicured to reflect Surya’s ongoing craftwork as householder. Their retreat center is lived in, with the sense of occupation, but absolutely uncluttered. This is their business and their pleasure. They occupy and are occupied by the farm for the majority of the year, taking precious time away only when the wind is so rough that they need to recharge in international waters. Their nest is comfortable and curated.
I describe the physical space because it was as if the universe presented an exact mirror to my inner craving that had been rising within. To meet a teacher that encouraged, created, and held space. To sit as a seeker, to release responsibility, to expand my knowledge and make room for receiving. A breathable, safe space for breathing safely. An actual container in which to release limiting beliefs that I could ever be contained.
As we transitioned from sipping fresh ginger tea to meditating together in the yoga room, Patricia resonated with the pulse of our connectivity. She dropped in with me as mother, sister, friend and goddess. Shakti pouring from her irises as she held my gaze, held my hand, held my intentions as her own. It was dreamlike to feel her assistance in making space for the session (this one focusing on the “not Enoughness” that plagues me from time to time). She didn’t ask for anything but openness. No demands. No needing or changing or rearranging. Honoring and making room for what organically bubbled up.
A theme I heard that entire day, from the core of my being to the outer edges of my consciousness:
S P A C E
An infinity symbol of pain and pleasure, opening and closing—the true essence of the creator/destroyer.
I often lean into my visual experiences, and felt as though this visit was gifted from the greater ones. A figure 8 that I’ve seen innumerable times in Traditional Chinese Medicine, psychedelic art, tapestries, logos and more, appeared like a snake charmer into my breathwork. She overtook my physical form, and I surrendered to waving my neck, ears, torso and hands with the curves of the design.
An unfolding yin yang.
A two dimensional taurus.
This infinity nodded my head yes and shook my head no.
Sensations of intense nausea and heightened energy currents ran through me as I breathed in one side of the 8, and exhaled down the other. Feeling into my body, allowing space to expand in my tightened jaw, throat, glands and digestive system. I sat the whole time, keeping myself rooted very much in the moment but branching out of the room and into the infinite.
Patricia’s style of breathing was quite different than any teacher I have worked with. How to describe her intense intimacy? Her imprinting was spot on. The idea that she knew what I needed far before I had any clue helped me embrace the vulnerability that is so priceless in these moments.
She cradled my being without interfering, verbally reminding me of her presence without imposing egoic will.
Her gift is in her powerful ability to hold the space. To remind me that I can create space for whatever [stuff] I have to reside, so that spirit can remind me I am expansive.
Her gift is in her guidance.
After my gums and gut softened from release, my breathing patterns slowed and I tapped into an even stiller trance like state.
Spacious. Outer Space. My Space.
What does it mean for me to greet my emotions and thoughts without cataloguing them? It means making room for them, just as they appear. I’ve been hinting at this my whole life, and will continue crawling towards bliss. Learning new ways to unwind, to forget, to remember, to evolve.
Just as I am loved and accepted and divinely precious, I am inclusive of all the energies that exist within.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.