Category: Autumn

when women gather!

when women gather!

by Kelly (and the Buck) ♥ 1 Comment

still. nourish. rest. retreat. connect. slow.

an evening gathering in southern vermont
on the first thursday of each month from autumn to spring

with chakra-based music, meditation, writing & sharing prompts
along with extensions that vary each month according to chakra
with one gathering for each of the 7 chakras, beginning november 1st, 2018


opening in silence (4:30 ish)
(fix yourself some tea, journal, close your eyes, rest)
closing in connection (7:00 ish)
(self, spirit, other)

tea-kettle & potluck snacks/drinks available throughout the evening
(potluck supper at last gathering)

absolutely no skill of any kind required
(simply come as you are and be met without needing to change a thing)

enrollment:

full journey, autumn through spring: $175

(contact Kelly about the wait list, kel(at)sover.net)

opening with all souls day in november and continuing once a month through winter into spring (on the first thursday of every month) and culminating with beltane in early may.

together, we’ll shape a sangha (a community) of voices, deepening presence through the chakras (the body’s energy centers), for a journey that is both gentle and transformative.

note: participants will receive online access for a chakra-home inquiry for any missed gatherings.

~

single gathering: $49

(contact Kelly about the wait list, kel(at)sover.net)

this rate allows you to claim a spot in the first chakra gathering on thursday, november 1st. and to upgrade to the full journey if space allows

these women circles take place in a private residence on macarthur road just off route 9 in marlboro, VT (between wilmington & brattleboro.)

(note: women participating in the snail mail 3-season writing journey can reserve participation in the monthly women’s circle at an reduced rate; please inquire.)

Facilitator Kelly Salasin has been participating in transformational women’s circles since her early thirties (in the late 1900’s 🙂 In 2000, she began leading women’s workshops, circles and groups, including designing her online curriculum, Writing through the Chakras, which she leads with women from Crete to the Carolinas. Kelly is a certified yoga and yogadance instructor.

She regularly assists leading presenters at the Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health in Lenox, Massachusetts, including Jean Shinoda Bolen (author of The Millionth Circle), Julia Cameron (the Artist’s Way), Joan Borysenko (A Women’s Book of Life),Tara Brach (True Refuge), Tama Kieves (This Time I Dance) and Dani Shapiro (Still Writing.) Kelly studied with renown chakra teacher Anodea Judith (Wheels of Life) and has assisted teaching trainings with Megha Nancy Buttenheim, founder of Let Your Yoga Dance (a chakra-based movement practice.)

Each March, Kelly serves as an NGO representative at the annual Commission on the Status of Women at the United Nations in New York City, gathering with women & men from around the globe to amplify women’s voices.

Contact Kelly with questions.

 

“Listening, witnessing, role modeling, reacting, deepening, mirroring, laughing, crying, grieving, drawing upon experience, and sharing the wisdom of experience, women in circles support each other and discover themselves…”
Jean Shinoda Bolen

Iron sky

Iron sky

by Kelly (and the Buck) ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
Schiele, detail visipix.com

i wake to an iron sky; without a sliver of sun to lighten the density of my mind. i look down toward the pond and find it frozen too; while sounds from the road rise up through the bare trees, leaving me tense, as if house guests or repairmen or deliveries or burglars are heading up my driveway this very moment. the woodstove burns well on a day like today, but i sit at the table with my second cup of tea, unable to kindle a flame inside. i feel every bit as hard as the earth, until i look out and see the snow falling, and i surrender once again to the sweet return of its gentle rhythm–the gift of winter–an old woman’s life-giving tears.

My Soul. Is a Weary.

My Soul. Is a Weary.

by Kelly (and the Buck) ♥ 1 Comment

As the one-year anniversary of the tragedy of 11/9 approaches, I sense in my friends, what I increasingly feel inside. A weariness. Of the soul.

Perhaps we’re surprised that our generation, so rich in freedom, could be surrounded by so much suffering. While equally astonished at how often our hearts must break.

It’s as if we’ve been limping through this year, lifting our heads up from each appalling circumstance to align with our vision of what can be (what should be!), again and again.

While all along our crushed hearts have somehow… enlarged!

Demonstrating an astonishing capacity. To grieve. To fight. To love. Beyond what we ever imagined, at such a privileged time in history, necessary.

And then, how many times might we make one last stop for ice cream–because the weather is so unseasonably warm…

(Click here to find out about moving to music with me.)

October musings & a week of seasonable weather

October musings & a week of seasonable weather

by Kelly (and the Buck) ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

To whom are we beautiful as we go?

~David Ignatow


Seasonal amnesia. All this unseasonable weather lulls me into a sense of suspended summer; so when I hear a roar (was it yesterday morning or the day before) moving through, what? the trees? down the mountain? across the land? in the sky? What was it–A truck? A plane? An invasion of some kind?

Oh, right, that’s the sound of wind, a Winter Wind.

 

~October 23
Summer brings me to the water and into the garden, while Autumn invites me into the woods, and onto the paths that wind in the afternoon light–the crunch of leaves, the pine needle carpet, the fallen birch tree–until I arrive back at the house, with a stop at the wood shed to add my labor to the stacking–an overwhelming prospect at first–until the rhythm of wood upon wood finds me, and the pleasure of order and reward has its way, so that when I step back I am surprised and sweetly satisfied that my effort lent one more row to warmth this winter while the pile in the driveway is that much smaller.

~October 18

First fire.
Essential oils.
Shut down the water to the outdoor shower & tub.
The wheel turns.

~October 17

the frost is heavy. the sun barely over the trees. the house cold. the woodstove ready, but not yet lit this year. i watch the icy crystals begin their surrender to the day. a greening circle around the fire pit (though it hasn’t been used in weeks.)

is there memory of heat? of communion? of love?

if my son was here, he’d explain it, scientifically–why that particular spot warms first, but i prefer to imagine something greater than understanding, like the way this circle of green in a sea of white suspends my attention as i hurry through the morning routine…

~October 13

welcome back squash & soup & socks

~October 12

~

October 6:

Once upon a time Casey & I were the types to come to New England on long weekends like this one. Leaf Peepers, you called us. We wore wool and sipped cider and gushed at pumpkins on farms and gasped at colors on hillsides. We’d return from our jaunts in Vermont to spend afternoons in the backyard of Casey’s grandmother’s house–in the Berkshires–gazing at Ceil Mente’s blazing Maple and beyond that, the ever-compelling presence of Mount Greylock.

At the Jersey shore, we had to chase after fall–at craft shows and historical villages and wishing we could wear sweater–but here, Autumn was in our laps.

~

How many times might we make one last stop for ice cream–because the weather is so unseasonably warm…