The past several months has brought about a season of transition and significant change for our friends at the farm, for the KIND Yoga business, and for me, personally, as the owner.
The farm’s ownership has officially changed hands to its capable and industrious new owners, John and Emma Reesor. Almost a year ago, we opened a second studio location in Squamish, B.C., and this September, I’ll be embarking on a journey of full-time studies at UBC Vancouver in psychology.
Amidst all of these changes, I have been working tirelessly to navigate possible new partnerships, the financial investment of updating and repairing our greenhouse, the possible selling of the business into attentive and passionate hands, and so much more. Navigating all of this has felt like a childrens game of “red light green light” on repeat. Constant excitement followed by disappointment.
This ever-evolving landscape has stirred a mix of emotions and prompted me to seriously ponder the directions I’m being pulled, to ask what truly brings me joy, and to reconsider where my calling leads me.
“What part of me do I trust in my decision making process?”
I was asked by a therapist…
The answer arrived quickly, and felt natural. “I trust my body.” My body typically tells me an honest, uninfluenced and pure story. I know what is right or wrong for me based on how my body feels and responds. For example, I sensed something about the push to keep the Markham location going this year wasn’t right, and my body communicated it through persistent symptoms of heartburn, eye twitches, fatigue, irritability, anxiety, and a weak immune system. My body was communicating very clearly, I simply needed to listen.
Conversely, my mind was often vulnerable to other’s opinions, words, judgments, agendas, fears, expectations and manipulations. Discerning my own thoughts from the opinions of others felt like trying to find the harmony of a song while competing against the collective choir - without intending to, I found myself distracted and listening to others’ notes, drifting into their vocal lines, momentarily forgetting my own melody. In case you’re wondering, the trick to harmonies is mastering your own part independent of the other voices, before joining the ensemble.
Hear me out for a minute. At some point in history, a white, colonial philosopher famously declared, “I think therefore I am,” and ever since, society has unquestionably embraced this notion, granting our minds dominion over our bodies. This belief has adapted into unconsciously feeling that the body is bad, seeking instant gratification and lust, and that it can’t be trusted. We internalize the narrative that the body is an accessory of the mind, and needs to be disciplined and controlled. Somewhere in the process of “growing up,” w learn to abandon our body, and become a fragmented version of ourselves in the process.
Science has only just accepted what yogis have believed for centuries. The mind and the body are not separate, they are undeniably connected - one and the same. I’ve learned that both deserve an equal spot at the table when navigating decisions, and when the power dynamic lacks equity, the incongruence leaks consequences.
My mind was saying ;
“Your business will die.”
“You’re a failure.”
“You’re giving up.”
You’re weak. Mind over matter. Push a little longer.”
“You’ll lose respect.”
“You’ll let other’s down.”
“Do it for the community.”
“What about money?”
My body responded - “Thank you, mind. Thank you for working tirelessly to protect me, from other’s judgments and perceptions of failure, from fears of scarcity. I know you have my best interests in mind, but”:
“I believe I am being supported beyond my wildest imagination.”
“When I respect my body and collaborate with my mind, I feel more present in my business, and it grows as a result of this authenticity.”
“What is failure, dear one? Perhaps closing by choice is a brave success. Maybe we don’t have to wait until a business crashes and burns. What if instead we reminisce on the magic of “what once was” and close the chapter simply because it’s the right time.”
“Some endings can be viewed as sacred.”
“I’m not giving up, I gave so much, and I’m ready to receive.”
“I’m not weak, I’m tired, and I’m ready to replenish.”
“Money is transient, it comes and goes, and clinging in fear prevents abundance.”
“You do not exist to please others.”
Those who truly respect you will understand your choice, and celebrate that your path intertwined with theirs. They’ll be grateful for the imprint you left on their life, and wish for other’s to receive the unique gifts you have to offer the world.”
We’re obsessed in this capitalist culture with infinite growth and permanence. If a business closes, we assume failure. Akin to the old belief that divorce is a failure if the relationship isn't eternal, we throw the baby out with the bath water, disregarding all the learnings gained in the process. Why are we so attached to the quantity of years over the quality of those years? Our culture detests endings, we cling and to what we know, suffocating whatever possibilities may arise on the other side of letting go.
I’ve been cautioned “Your business still has so much life and potential, if you close you can’t turn back or change your mind.” Here’s the thing. Business is more than just stats, trends and profit and loss comparisons. Business is spiritual, too. KIND Yoga came from my body, my soul, my heart, my imagination. The magic of what KIND was can never be taken away from me, and what is possible for KIND remains open and “endless” (pun intended). Endings are actually new beginnings - you can’t have one without the other!
Right now, what feels embodied, is to pause on the reopening of the KIND Markham location for the 2024 season. I don’t know what will happen next year, or the year after, I can’t predict the future, but no door is ever permanently closed. I want you to know that this decision was not made lightly, but since I landed here, it feels like I've finally slipped back into my own skin, a dress tailored seamlessly to fit my own body just right.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for holding the space. Words cannot express my gratitude to the the Markham community. I’ve learned you can’t take money, possessions, or accolades with you to the grave, but you can take memories - and the memories made and shared with you have left an indelible mark on my soul.
For those of you who still have passes, please stay tuned! We have some plans in the works to host some final classes on the farm this summer, which you can use your passes towards. We’ll send out another newsletter with specific details soon.
Thank you for creating this amazing story with me, and for being a part of the chapters along the way.
Endless Love,
Ellen Reesor