Summer Love for Women

Summer Love for Women

In Southern VT and online.
Breathing s-p-a-c-e for women.

Kelly Salasin

Celebrate the expansive energy of the sun
with the cooling & nourishing retreat of a
woman’s circle

in Southern Vermont and online
(or by invitation–near you!)

God may be in the details. But the Goddess is in connections.
~Gloria Steinem

Dance where you are. Your song has already been written.

Chakra Dance
a Let Your Yoga Dance women’s circle
in Marlboro, VT
dancing through the body’s energy centers
highlighting each of the 7 chakras
Late July through early September
Thursdays, 6:00 pm to 7:30 pm
Skill & experience irrelevant

“I realize that I don’t know my body very well–and I want to.  This helps. I trust you as a teacher.”

Click here for more voices on dancing through the chakras.

“I’ve learned so much from this woven fabric of feminine voices.”

Writing through the Chakras~Online
a 7 chakra online circle for the soul
Lammas (early August) through…

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Dance Toward the Longest Night

Dance Toward the Longest Night

Returning to Southern Vermont at the end of October as your companion on the journey to the darkest night…

Kelly Salasin


It’s getting dark out.
The days are shrinking.
The nights are growing longer.
The time to cultivate the light is upon us.
Poetry. Laughter. Communion.
A resilient heart.
Silence. Prayer. Surrender.

It’s all there in the dance.

Each class delicately crafted through the chakra system to nourish body, mind & soul on the journey to the Longest Night.

Opening at the end of October when the dark of the moon is upon us
and continuing into December as the full moon lights our way to the Winter Solstice…

These 75+ minute gatherings for women are held in the community space
at Marlboro Elementary School on Route 9 in Marlboro VT.

Dance barefoot. Dress to move. Bring a mat (or blanket.)

Tuesdays 5:30 pm, October 25th through December 20th, 2016.

Instructor Kelly Salasin received her Let Your Yoga Dance certification at the Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health where she regularly…

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Summer reeling

Summer reeling

This year summer keeps on giving…

Two Owls Calling

I cannot tell if the day is ending, or the world, or if the secret of secrets is inside me again. ― Anna Akhmatova


I want to tell you about something, but I’m not sure how.

It’s about summer’s passing.

It’s about the sun setting.

It’s about walking away from the beach, across the field, leaving summer behind.

It’s about feeling like summer is under my feet, reeling backward, faster and faster, with each step I take.

It’s about seeing my youth dragged along underneath it.

It’s about the sudden knowing that summer’s ending echoes my own.

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Annoying Bird Calls (or what kind of mom are you?)

Annoying Bird Calls (or what kind of mom are you?)

If ever cease I to call Vermont home, the call of the thrush in the quiet of the morning or just before night falls, may be my greatest loss…

The Empty Nest Diary

Photo 339I wake to the sounds of birds and wonder if I should get up too. Now that the boys are home for the summer, I like to be up early to steal some quiet time. I roll over to check my husband’s alarm clock but instead I see his back.  If he’s still beside me, it’s too early to get up. I notice it’s dark outside.

Still, I lift my foggy head over his body in a heroic effort to assign time. 4:44. I like that. Those fours could inspire me get up and write about the “masculine.”  “4” is the number for Emperor  in the tarot, and this is the first full day of summer–the masculine in full expression. I roll over and slip back into the soft feminine of my dreams.

When the sounds of birds wake me again, the room is lightening and Casey is missing. I…

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Tuesdays in May

Tuesdays in May

a spring offering for women in southern vermont & surrounding areas…

Kelly & Lila

Music & Meditation
Consciously crafted through the chakras
To move & soothe you–body, mind & soul.


Discover lightness of being
Experience deeper joy & self-regard
Move into life with greater ease

With a one-of-a-kind fitness experience
Let Your Yoga Dance
Tuesdays in May at the Marlboro Elementary School
on Route 9 in Marlboro, Vermont
6:00 pm
(no class 5/17)

4–90 minute sessions for $49.
Drop-in $15.

Dress to move, dance barefoot, bring a mat & water bottle.
Gently-guided. Skill & experience not remotely relevant.
(If you can take a brisk walk, you’ve got this.)

“The music ROCKS!”

“OMG! I can’t believe how much fun this is!”

“I love it!!! Every time!!

“It’s more than a workout–it’s spiritual grounding and a chance to experience true freedom. It’s exactly what you need each and every moment.”

“I feel lighter and uplifted!”

“I love feeling the music through my body.”

“It was easy…

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the Christmas embarrassment

the Christmas embarrassment

Christmas in Vermont… 2015

Kelly & Lila

IMG_1419The tree was decorated in record time, and I’m not sure how. My husband’s mother presented him with an ornament each Christmas, throughout childhood, and continued the tradition with me once I became wife, and only stopped after the birth of our second child, because there was no room for them on the tree.

As the oldest of 8, I’ve longed for ease around the holidays, long before I became a mother, so I might have been pleased, and relieved, and overjoyed, at how effortlessly our tree was adorned this night.

I looked around the livingroom and saw that we were all grown. The boys both taller than me. Both drinking eggnog from grown-up glasses.

I felt a bit sad.

My older son–who had to be dragged through holiday rituals in his teen years–participated without struggle. In fact, he over-participated. Ornaments flew from the table to the tree with a…

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The Ghost of Dr. George

The Ghost of Dr. George

That time of year…

The Motherless Muse

That time of year thou mayest in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang.

~Sonnet # 73

IMG_1090This poem returns to haunt me each autumn in the voice of Dr. George–my freshman English professor from Saint Joes University in Philadelphia.

It’s only now, 25 years later, as I enter the autumn of my own life, that I begin to understand why George was moved to tears when he recited this particular Shakespearean sonnet.

That time of year thou mayest in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

At 18, I couldn’t understand how a poem could make anyone cry–let alone a grown man in a suit–who was old (but only generically so, like everyone else over 30.)

It was my junior year in London that I got word that Professor George actually died.

Upon whose boughs which shake against the cold,

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