We arrive at the Dorlin Jetty and as we wait for the boats to come to take us across to the island, I look across the calm, moving stillness of the loch at Eilean Shona island. I see trees and lush green vegetation and a house nestled amongst the trees with a stunning view of the loch. I did not know that this was Tioram cottage where some of us would be staying. I feel excited and know that I will feel at home there, surrounded by water and woodland.
Two boats come, our suitcases and supplies for the week are loaded onto them and with a dance in my heart we set off for the island where my midsummer retreat is taking place.
What would you like to have happen on this retreat, I had asked my retreat attendees? They wanted to stop doing busy day to day things, to get away, relax and have a stress free break, to have the opportunity to practice yoga daily, to be in nature, to reduce the constant whirl of mental activity, to achieve a sense of clarity and calm, to have adventure and do things that were off the beaten track, to collaborate and get out of comfort zones, to take stock of the year and next steps for the year and beyond.
What will unfold for everyone on this remote island with no cars and an energy of its own that is mesmerising and magical?
The first challenge was lighting the wood burner for heating in one of the cottages. This was out of comfort zone territory for city folks like us who are use to flicking a switch on for heating. It was fascinating to discover that there was a whole system for getting the air to circulate just right to keep the fire going.
This would be a journey of self discovery about one's relationship with heat and cold, comfort and discomfort, rain and sunshine, work and rest, responsibility and delegation, liking that behaviour and disliking this behaviour, thing or space.
Being away from every day routines creates space to pay attention to our patterns and especially on Eilean Shona for leader and participants to have light shone on unhelpful patterns. Being on this unspoilt island helped to bring into our conscious awareness patterns that were hidden and gave us the opportunity to make choices about what we might like to have happen instead.
I noticed that likes and dislikes frequently rose to the surface and were the source of many irritations. The spiritual masters tell us that we are defined by our likes and dislikes and that they form our personality. For example, I was aware of not liking the furniture in the village hall and the carpet in my room. Were these like and dislikes important or meaningful? No! In the great scheme of life, these dislikes are irrelevant and not worth taking up any mind space.
Some people disliked the cold while others found the temperature too hot. There were likes and dislikes about the amount of individual space required to practise yoga and most of us disliked ticks and midges even before we arrived on the island. Ticks carry Lyme disease and midges bite and so it is necessary to be careful to avoid being bitten. However, do we need to dislike these insects. They too serve a purpose in the ecosystem like the trees emitting oxygen that we need to breathe and humans breathing out carbon dioxide that the trees need. We all liked the trees and nature around us.
When we express likes and dislikes, we are unconsciously dividing the universe, separating ourselves from others and being inflexible. Likes and dislikes stop us from enjoying what is and as the enlightened master, Sadhguru puts it, are the basis of bondage and we become prisoners of our likes and dislikes.
How do we break this bondage? By becoming more conscious in every day life and doing what is needed willingly without liking or disliking anything. This is part of the spiritual self awareness and consciousness raising journey.
That being said, we loved (likes!) the enchanting stillness of the island, the presence of the majestic trees, the mesmerising movement of the water on the loch, sometimes still, sometimes punctuated by rain drops, sometimes with rippling wavelets moving towards or away from the land and sometimes I was dumbstruck by indescribable water movement that was poignantly calming and seemed to call out to the stillness deep in the soul.
