Are You Like a Hurricane?

The wind smashed rain against the windows, bending trees as a crack of thunder woke me from a deep sleep and sent me rushing to unplug everything. I poked into the studio to check windows in case they’d been shaken open. Then I stood to watch the storm and feel its spectacular energy: palms blowing all ways, rain falling sideways, lashing against anything in its way. Flashes of lightning illuminated the dark sky for milliseconds at a time. I got a chill as the temperature dropped and shuffled back under the covers to sleep. I’ve become used to these outbursts of nature.

 Before I dozed off, I realized I’ve become used to my own outbursts too. How about you? Do you have days when there are so many things to do in not enough time that you feel like that rain falling sideways? We make progress but we’re falling nonetheless. Or do you resemble the lightning, flashing for milliseconds before resting, exhausted.

 I woke to calmness and the sun. Wispy clouds travelled lazily across a blue sky, not like the rolling grey black ones from the night before. Mother nature had decided to rest after the big push. There was even a rainbow, nearly full, reflecting all the colors. I smiled and recognized my nature in that sort of storm and rest pattern as I glanced at my “success plan” for the day. I try not to call it a “to do” list. But it was long and I never saw an item that said “stop and watch the rainbow”. How was I measuring success? I quickly added, “enjoy life” to the list, put it down and finished my coffee enjoying the rainbow.

 What about you? What’s on your “success plan”? Perhaps it’s time to add recovery, taking energy in rather than expending it until you’re so spent you crash. If you’re feeling as if you’ve been pushing so hard it hurts, consider taking a break. Life doesn’t have to be a constant hurricane. Stop for a moment to discover how you can rest and reconnect to a calmer rhythm.

 Yoga helps. Tribal’s added 8 am classes Tuesday to Friday in case the 10 am and noon classes don’t work. Yin and Journaling begins this week in the Wed and Fri 8 am slot. It’s a sweet way to open your mind and body and move into your day liberated. We’ll record those sessions and share them with our Paradise Found subscribers. If you’re not in Tulum and you’d like this absolutely freeing practice, subscribe here.

 October holds new sound sessions as well. October 7th at 6 pm I’ll partner with Yulia Sol for a Yin and Gong Bath on the roof, weather permitting. Receive the deep resonant opening from Yin Yoga mixed with healing vibrations from an exquisitely crafted gong session with Yulia, psychologist and gong therapist.

 This session heralds the start of regularly scheduled Tibetan Healing Bowl sessions evenings at 6 pm. Give yourself an hour to allow the Tibetan Bowls’ frequencies to calm your nervous system and bring freedom to your muscles and organs to initiate healing. Check the website for the soon to be announced details.

 Remember that November 25 to 30, Tribal’s offering a spectacular 5 night 6 day retreat filled with gratitude and reconnection as we partner with Vacation in Tulum and their residences at Samsara. Early bird pricing available until October 6 so think about reserving your space soon.

 Let yourself experience calm after the storm. Practice healing modalities with us at Tribal.

The Old Meets the New

“I’ll meet you at the property.” I told him as we talked about how Tulum has changed in the 5 years he’s been here and how lovely his new apartments are. I ask him to imagine the changes after 22 years!

Did I even say that? Twenty two years!

He loves Tribal Tulum but is always suggesting things I could improve: post more, offer more classes, lower prices. I could teach more often. (when would I write? Walk the dogs? Feed the cats?) Finally he said, “You could do more retreats. Your spaces are lovely and I don’t see you pushing them.”

He meant it nicely. But ….“Listen, try doing it all yourself and see where you are after 22 years..”

“Could be your management.”

Ouch! Perhaps he’s right. “I’ll do more retreats if you do the lodging. That’s what you manage right?”

He smiled back and paused before, “OK.”

“Show me what you’ve got.”

It’s the left off Avenida Coba Sur, across from the nice plaza where they make green shots. We pass it riding to the beach in the morning. I cross and go down a well paved road to Samsara, a development on the border of the national park. The concierge opens the door for me nicely, the result of better management skills than mine no doubt. We walk to the pool. It’s enormous and empty. He sees my desire and comments, “I hope you brought your suit. The roof pool’s even better.” I ignore the drought issues and push away thoughts of habitat fragmentation, concrete heat emissions, waste, density. All the things I’ve struggled with that have made my 22 years in Tulum sadder than necessary hit me in the face as we walk into an apartment that has everything: dishwasher, a/c, balcony overlooking the jungle, 2 private bedrooms with bath, private plunge pools. My people might love it. Actually, I knew they would. Could I?

We walked past the screen on the wall to a gym, co working space up a few flights of stairs to the roof pool running the length of the building overlooking the adjacent jungle. A flock of pelicans flies by. I wanted to cry. Tears of joy or sadness? Did nature mind we were here? How many trees were cut? Why do we need so much? But then I couldn’t resist. I slipped my feet into the clear water, then my body, then swam. I conceded, “Yes, Let’s do it,” Thanksgiving weekend: gratitude.

Join us at Tribal Tulum and Samsara, November 25 to 30th as we blend the old with the new:

• daily yoga with our great teachers from Tribal

• our well equipped, world class, tree lined studio

• luxurious lodging on the border of the Mayan Jungle and a short walk or bike from the studio

• special morning practice in the lagoon south of Tulum for yoga and nature

• Cacoa sharing on the roof in ceremony and reverence

• Opportunity for shared meal at local restaurant

• Bike for exploring Tulum

  Early bird pricing at $1999 before October 5;

  $2399 until reservations close on November 20, 2026

  Take this perfect moment to get back into you. Now is the time.

Why I Don't Mourn the End of Summer

There’s Late Summer. That season some of us called Indian Summer extending from September well into October as we step into harvest and autumn. Rather than settling for the end of summer, I anticipate the beginning of this new season: cooler nights, less crowded places, new beginnings in so many courses and schools and harvests of some of the best of summer crops. It’s a time to notice the pause before autumn and hold onto the energy of the hottest of seasons. It is unmistakable if you pay attention.

Take a deep breath and hold it for just a moment. You can taste the shift in the air. It’s easier to catch the early morning sun. It’s waiting a few minutes for you now. Sunsets stay longer, their angle has slightly shifted and the stars are that much brighter in a cooler less humid sky.

Rather than mourn the end of summer, I celebrate the beginning of Late Summer. Why not cultivate an attitude of new beginnings? At Tribal Tulum we’ll begin a new 8 am practice Tuesday to Friday and new pricing with a resident drop in at 150 MXN and a full late summer month of 3 classes a week at 1200 MXN. For our extended travelling family, we’ll always offer our amazing personal yoga retreats into this season so you can get back in touch with the earth energies as they shift around you.

Think about it. Yoga changes your day, your week and, consistently practiced, it will change your life. Now’s a great time to shift with the season into something spectacular. Retreat into you this late summer in our daily classes or a personal yoga retreat curated for you.

A friend recently told me, “Your place doesn’t seem to fit here anymore. It’s a bubble of the old Tulum.” Maybe that’s exactly why we’re still here nearly 11 years down the road: to provide a bubble of peace, acceptance and simplicity that let’s you feel more than just ok. it lets you feel Tulum.

The Thing that Makes You Feel Like You

I began practicing yoga to heal parts of me that were broken, abused and perhaps a little excessive. Regardless, I’ve always wanted to do it “right”. And since I’ve been indoctrinated in the value of discipline to get to that place of “right”, I do the thing whether I feel like it or not. Maybe, like me, you’ve been trained to not even ask what you feel like. Just do the thing: make the bed, work, study, workout, write, do the dishes, caretake and, yes, practice yoga.

 Like when I was sharing a micro-room in Manhattan to see the film my friend and publisher co directed, I did pranayama in the bathroom and then I put my travel mat in the space between the bed and the wall to practice. I did the thing. I didn’t even waken her.

 Same when we went to Allentown, PA to finish the third of my Eco Woman trilogy (epic, I might add. That’s the Amazon link but it’s even better from your local bookstore or bookshop.org) And I did the thing once again in another micro New York hotel gym. I unrolled my mat between the lat machine and the mirror, practicing to disco music blaring into the space. See, I know how to do the thing. For years my “thing” has been yoga and writing.

 The best thing about this “thing”, this disciplined practice, is how it taught me to notice how I feel. And I’ve discovered that’s actually doing it “right”. So I notice that, regardless how I begin, I feel better when I finish. Whether I’ve celebrated with champagne and chocolate cake the night before or slept 10 hours of deep sober sleep, my practice improves how I feel and who I am throughout the day. The trick is to do it. Sure, you might say a 3:30 am practice before a 4:30 am Uber is excessive. But at 11:30 am, pain free on the plane, elbow to elbow with my neighbor, I’m grateful for the discipline.

 Getting up every day to write and practice yoga makes me feel more like who I am in the world. So when you read my books or this blog, the substack Paradise Found, it’s emagazine or you write or practice in the morning, we’re in it together. I delight in imagining us all awakening early because we love “the thing” first. But secondly, we know that doing “the thing” when you don’t feel like it helps you feel better, even “right”, when you actually feel like it. It’s a process and a discipline based in experience.

 So today, maybe right now, maybe throughout the day, take a second and notice what works for you. What’s your “thing”? Remind yourself: that’s yoga. What makes you move more freely? What makes you delight in the day? What resonates with who you are? Own it and vow to do it every day, whether you feel like it or not.

And if you feel like it, shoot me a message here or on the substack and share what it is for you. I’d love to hear.

When the Rains Came

The green and yellow of the new leaves ascending from the trees still untouched in the lot across the street contrasted with the mottled grey crossing the sky. In places clouds like a battleships rolled in only to give way to wispy, fairy like formations in between.

The rains had begun and I delighted in them.

It hadn’t rained for months and the dryness and dust were palpable, literally. You tasted it biking through town. You felt it on your skin at night, dirty and oily with sweat and the dust that rose nearly everywhere.  Any exposed skin would crack from the overwhelming brilliance of the sun.

But now, the wind blowing those battleship clouds freshened the air. The shirt didn’t cling to my back. The bathed streets glistened and in the backyard a content frog sang a deep throaty bossa nova. Summer had arrived to this tropical city on the verge.

Of what? We never know. Tulum’s always on the verge. Right now, this very moment, she’s on the verge of a delightful summer. What are you on the verge of? And what will make summer delightful for you?

86,400 Seconds

We’d just come off the wall ropes, folded forward and looked at our feet activating the metatarsal when a thin black bug scurried across the mat. She giggled, “Oh my.” I brushed him away gently and came back to her toes. So did he. “Persistent,” Alice commented. I scooped him up and carried him to the window.

 The rains the night before had been spectacular. The first in months, full of lightning and thunder, electrical outages and over extended puddles. The trees swelled and glowed as the downpours washed away accumulated dust and grime. High winds closed the port and high puddles closed the roads. I loved it.

 I started to open the screen to put the interloper on the ledge and justified saving him to my client. “These bugs bloom after the rain. They don’t last long. Sometimes only a day.” Curious, she followed me to the window.

 “Oh dear,” she exclaimed. Hundreds of the same skinny black bugs were struggling to ascend from the saturated ground, awakened by the water and the electricity coursing through the soil.

“Amazing.”

“You’ll see them dead everywhere tomorrow. So each second of their lives is like a year of ours.”

We watched for a moment, awed by their numbers and their persistence in moving upward. I calculated: 24 hours, 60 minutes per hour,  60 seconds per minute. They live 86,400 seconds. Suddenly, I felt I had all the time in the world. Compared to these little guys, we do. So take a deep breath and be here, wherever you are. Take a second and notice what’s around you. Take another and breath into that moment.

 I didn’t open the screen. Instead, I lowered my new friend to the sill on the inside, confident that if he wanted to he could slip through a crack to join his clan. Or he could practice his 86,400 seconds with us.

Drama

She’d come to leave a deposit. The feminist. Remember her? I was happy to see her. We reviewed what would be in her apartment. Turns out she had more than king sized sheets.

“I can’t wait to move”

“That bad?”

“My roomies.”

“How many?”

“Just one. But there’s so much drama.”

 Drama. So seductive and enticing. It certainly makes life interesting. The high, the climax, the near or real violence. It is addictive. A friend once asked me if I did’t miss all my indie films and movie nights from the big city. “My life is a movie,” a curtly answered. I had a stalker, people trying to rip me off or take something from me most of the time. I had the beauty of the Caribbean, friends with jealous partners, drugs lords next door and murders. Yes murders, have you read my memoir?.

Insidiously, it all seemed ok because it took me away from everything else. I could feel very good about myself as this telenovela wrapped its arms around me.  I wasn’t so bad after all.

 Eventually, I learned it’s better to have theatre than to live in it. What pulled me out? Yoga and journaling. Seriously. Yoga helped me find peace and the beauty in it, even if I were the only person peaceful in a storm of drama. And when I’d get caught in the drama, writing and then seeing on paper what I’d experience, helped me sift the ok from the not ok.

 Whether you are caught up in a smuggling ring or a diamond ring, opening your body to how that feels, how it really makes you feel, writing it down and coming back to that will help you find your dharma. It’s simple and beautiful and when you can be honest with yourself, it is very healing.

 Give it a try with me next week. We’ll start a series of yin and journaling classes Tuesday May 26th 8 am Tulum Time. Classes here at Tribal or on Zoom, include a journal, all your yoga props, coffee in the garden after and 90 minutes of peace and introspection. Give yourself the gift of opening your body, documenting what it is you see and moving from that place of knowledge.

Floating on the Breath

You could feel the rain well before it arrived, heavy in the atmosphere. Walking to the roof was like walking through jello. But I wanted to see it when it might arrive. When that heavy veil might be lifted.

I’d drawn a tub for a full moon ritual. Channeling perhaps the Adam’s Family but more intentionally the spirit of a full micro moon in Scorpio, I dipped my body into the lavender mineral salted water, inhaled and floated on the surface and the aroma. Then I exhaled it all and sank to the bottom as lightning flashed across the night sky: heat lightning. May in the tropics. .

Yet I felt cool at the bottom of my lavender Epsom basin. My fingertips pushed into the floor of the tub and I rose, inhaled to float once again, lungs full, body relaxed and content. Lightning crackled. I exhaled and sank, hiding at the bottom, head under, eyes closed for a minute to the flashes against the full moon. No sounds but my heart pumping. I continued the ritual sinking and rising to remind myself of the breath’s capability to help us rise. Without it, we sink. Simple. And it takes a push to get back to that place where we can float on the surface and flow. My ritual showed me just that. Without the breath, that consicious drawing in of energy, we can only sink. What’s your ritual to remind yourself that inhaling you can rise? How do you remember that the exhales cleanse and help you let go.

When the rain will arrive, who knows. But she will be fierce, like a starved lover. Huge drops like overwhelming kisses will fall to the earth. When she showers us, lets dance in the rain. Let it remind you, there is always rebirth. We will flourish again. And again. It’s the law of nature. Come clean. Invite your neighbor. Flourish in the storm of abundance as the first pregnant drop hits the page and I clip my pen to the journal and head for shelter. But not until I raise my face to the shower from above and say thank you. I love you.

If you need help remembering, we have new classes at Tribal Tulum to help. Yoga is all about the breath and our regular classes can help you reconnect to the magic that lies in each inhale and exhale. In addition, we’ll focus more deeply on the breath and our ability to create rituals that help us rise. Check Tribal Tulum for details and registration options.

And then we enter our lives

I wrote on the chalkboard, “Practice and all is coming.” Sri K. Pattabhi Jois. Underneath, “What are you practicing?”

Earlier, a jet plane flew up and down the Tulum Beach peninsula. The overbearing sound was unique to fighter planes. I immediately wondered if we were being bombed. If not, was the pilot was travelling to bomb someone. Seems I’ve been practicing expecting the worst.

Yet, when I was a kid, I’d cover my ears and run to the window to witness the miracle of flight, imagining the pilots’ view. Inspired by the scientists, mechanics and engineers who’d put together the incredible machine that I couldn’t hear until after it had passed. The prodigies of Icarus and the Wright brothers capturing yet another level of flight.

This morning though, I ducked into my mat and cried. The fear had become too much. As I took the deep staccato inhales that come after tears, I resumed my practice: clearing rounds, meditation, jumping for joy and asana. It was then that I discovered it was practice for an air show. Apparently some people still love to see the wonder in fighter planes, in our accomplishments, our ability to overwhelm, if only the senses.

So I’ve vowed to practice that: reclaiming my wonder in our species, our abilities and our accomplishments on this planet that supports us.

What will you practice to find joy and wonder again? Join us for these classes to help enliven what you want more of in your life:.

• Yoga. Of course I’d say that. But yoga brings you back into the moment. From there, you can choose to focus on positive happenings. We have daily classes and a you tube channel at Tribal Tulum or find your favorite studio and teacher. But find something that takes you into the now.

• Feeling inspired? Follow that with writing, photography, painting whatever your inner self urges. Expression is a wonder inspiring practice. Paradise Found, the e magazine that shares interpretations of this paradise we call home in all mediums will bring you back into the miracle where we live. Staying positive helps you feel the bliss. Check out the past issues and think about submitting for early summer. No fee, just a creative urge to look around, document and share.

• Reconnect with your inner guru. Join me May 26th to June 11th, Tuesday and Thursday mornings 8 to 9:30 am and we’ll practice listening to our inner wisdom in a Yin and Journaling series. We’ll open our bodies, write what comes up and let go. Contact me here for info and to register. If there’s interest we’ll stream classes.

•  Breathwork opens direct channels to the bliss that is your essence. Tribal is partnering with Source to bring monthly live streamed breathwork class with Travis Steffans. for an Intermittant Hypoxia Lab entitled, Train the Edge. Read about The first is May 21st at 9 am Tulum time. Tribal referrals can use the discount code TULUM for a special price.

• Yin Yoga on Sundays at 10 am, we practice balancing fear, anger and our ability to feel safe while being compassionate. All this while opening fascial layers that let us move more freely. Join me at Tribal Tulum and find your now.

  “The breath is your most intimate ally,” Sarah Powers.

  Breathe deeply

  Om Peace, Love, Fearlessness

Smarmy Love Songs

At the shop next to me, loosely translated, a singer whines, “Your love is air to me. How can I live without air.”

Smarmy right?

Like Paul McCartney asked, where would we be without smarmy love songs? They infiltrate our lives and remind us where we’d be without love. The smarmy romantic concept with all its heart break and drama can block us from seeing love for what it truly is: a feeling of belonging, the truest super power as J B Pritzker, Governor of Illinois, USA recently called it. It creates and sustains life. When you look at it like that, the smarmy love songs seem more than appropriate.

And it’s smarmy but true. Love is air, whether you are with your partner for 50 years or 50 years partner free, love breathed life into you. It created you and sustains you still. And, it is the thing that will vanquish evil, in my story anyway. As I finish my third fantasy novel: the trilogy of Eco Woman, she and I have decided that love is the super power that overcomes all darkness. It’s the thing that stands up when everyone else sits down. It out supers everything else.

So, what do you love? What do you love about your life, right now? Exactly as it is. The sun on the curtain that falls over the chair, the full pink moon? Or the flower blooming in a crack on the road? Or the child that pulls it up to smell it. What do you love about this moment? What’s it worth to you to notice the present moment as it flies into the next moment. And then the next, never to be repeated. What do you love so much you’d change things like a habit or even an addiction to preserve it. Do you love yourself or that person or that thing, like freedom, peace, independence, whatever, enough to change a thing?

It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It can be something small. Would you sit still and notice for 5 minutes every day to bring yourself peace? Or bring the world peace if every one started? Are you really just too busy? Revolutions, personal, political, international, all start in baby steps. They take time and consistence. James Balwin puts in nicely: “The world is held together by the love and the passion of a very few people, it really is.” Perseverance in small details overthrows years of bad habits, bad leaders, bad results. It can ignite the love that is all around us. So step up and stand up for what you love. And play that smarmy love song.

Holding Our Own

I nearly missed them as I cruised down one of the mural clad side streets in Tulum. But the second I saw their intertwined fingers my heart felt a longing akin to homesickness, a deep desire to connect. I took my hand from the bike’s handlebar and envisioned my own mother’s hand in mine. Had it been all those years since I’d held it? How long since I’d extended my hand to a child? Or reached for a lover’s? When did I become so separate, so busy, so independent that I couldn’t even remember?

Sure, I’d been “holding my own” for more than awhile. Yet in that moment I longed to reach with certainty for the hand of another. I exhaled, brushed it off and turned to see the mother and daughter, holding hands so easily, so comfortably, talking, as if that physical connection were the most normal thing in the world. And as if it would last forever.  

I slipped the lock through the wheel and around a pole and decided, yes. It would last forever. Mine had. I rubbed one hand over the other to feel the sensation: skin on skin, palm to palm, genuine loving touch. Before I turned to enter the bank, I closed my eyes and imagined my mother’s hand in mine. I felt the connection. Yes, I’d always have it. My heart quieted, the longing subsided and my shoulders softened as I felt the mother and daughter, even the son who might pull his hand from mine, too grown up. Yet still, we’re connected.

Always. And more so once we connect to the self.

If you’ve forgotten, if you’ve been “holding your own” for way too long, think about taking a break. Even an hour to get still and reconnect to you and the connection we have to each other. Yoga helps. It’s not the only way but it is a way that’s worked for humanity for thousands of years. And it’s a certain way to come back to you and your connection with the things you love.

Facing our Fears

“Why did we choose this path when there are so many easier that benefit everyone?” the text lit up my screen.

 So many other paths to take. And easier for everyone.

 “We pay for other’s bad choices,” it continued.

 But somehow, they were ours. Perhaps we didn’t pay attention or participate or vocalize our position. Perhaps we didn’t have the openness of mind to listen to opposing views. Perhaps we waited for someone better, wiser, older, smarter, richer, more prepared, more likeable, better looking. We always want a hero: superman or superwoman. When in reality it is our commonness that saves us. Our ability to see ourselves in others. Our ability to dig deep and find a common thread that ignites compassion and understanding.

 Nelson Mandela asked, “Who are you not to shine?” Who are you to not be afraid?

The world is a scarey place. Until we go out into it. Until we sit at a local café and talk to a neighbor like this not too late morning as I sip the cappuccino my proprietor friend gifted me for just coming out into the street after news reports that left people running for cover.

 It is calm here. I sit and write and listen to soft music playing on the neighbor’s radio. It’s Latino rhythm inspires immense gratitude for being a common woman who is uncommonly comfortable in this scarey corner of the world. Given the chance, could I do a better job? Yes. I believe I could. Like Moses, Ghandi, Mandela, my proprietor who sells coffee and dumplings to the pueblo, like you. We are the common people. But we are the people who face the fear each day and go out into it. Because that’s how we change the world.

 We’re not afraid to be kind, to step into our common space and open our minds to all that might be today.

 If you are feeling fearful, you are not alone. But perhaps hiding isn’t the way out. Perhaps being brave in your corner of the world means being kind. When you face your fear, you realize it’s the enemy. Not your neighbor, not the “other’s” but the fear of opening our eyes and our hearts to each other.

 If you are up for facing it, we have extending retreats available at Tribal Tulum from April onward. Join us and give yourself the time and space to create a new habit of showing up for you and being fearless and kind in the world. Contact me here on at tribaltulum.com for more information.