Whispers From Nature

I spent the weekend at La Solitude, nestled in nature and wrapped in a quiet that my bones have been craving for a long time. It was a retreat in every sense of the word—gentle, slow, and rich with space to reflect. I went as a participant, not a teacher. And in that shift, I was met with something unexpected: myself. My doubts. My dreams. The weight I still carry. The longing I can’t seem to silence. And the whispers from nature that keep repeating: this is the path. Keep going.

The Simple Things Spoke the Loudest

The days were mostly quiet. Meals were eaten in silence. I rose with the birds (which was before 4:30am…) and walked the land slowly, with the invitation to tune in—what do I see, hear, feel? Everything felt slower. Softer. But not in a tamasic way. In a sattvic, soul-soothing kind of way.

I sat on the beach as the fog lifted off the water. I walked the trails and listened to nature crunch underfoot. I sipped tea, journaled, read, and even brought out my watercolours again. It was as though time stretched open to offer me everything I’d been too busy to hear.

There were woodpeckers everywhere—each one like a messenger. Busy, focused, steady. Peeling back bark and knocking at something deeper. It felt weirdly familiar.

A Mirror to My Inner Landscape

As the weekend unfolded, I began to notice some inner tension—small, quiet waves of critique and comparison that I didn’t expect. Not directed at anyone in particular, but more like a familiar pattern rising up within me. That striving for perfection. The desire to do things “right.” The part of me that watches, evaluates, and often judges myself in the midst of experience.

It was humbling to witness. And at times uncomfortable. But in the silence and simplicity of the retreat, there was space to see it with honesty—and without shame.

What softened my inner dialogue was remembering how much I do know, how much I have lived and learned and integrated. How deeply I love this path of Yoga and Ayurveda. How committed I am to the practice—even if I’m still learning how to apply it all in real life, imperfectly, moment by moment.

The Power of Observation

One of the biggest insights I took away this weekend was the power of simply noticing. I noticed habits and desires that tend to sway me when I’m in my usual rhythm at home. I noticed how, in a new environment, those same cravings lost their pull.

I didn’t feel deprived. I felt free.

It reminded me of something I return to again and again in my work: the Ayurvedic concept of prajnaparadha—the “crime against wisdom.” That quiet moment when we know something isn’t serving us, and yet we choose it anyway.

But this weekend was different. There was ease in saying no. There was space to choose differently. And in that choice, I remembered the power of awareness—and the support of structure.

It’s the same invitation offered through the Radiant Reset: to step back, simplify, and choose from clarity rather than compulsion.

The Dream That Still Burns Bright

Being in that little cabin, surrounded by trees, crows nesting outside and woodpeckers tapping all around me, I felt both calm and ignited. I was reminded of the dream I’ve carried quietly for nearly 20 years now: to create a retreat place of healing on the land. A space with simple cabins, wildflower gardens, forest paths, and room to breathe. A place where others can come to reconnect with nature, with themselves, and with something deeper.

It’s a big dream. One that fills me with hope and also—if I’m honest—a lot of fear. Fear that I’ve waited too long. That I’ve missed the window of opportunity. That I’m not “enough” or “ready.”

But then I remember: this dream hasn’t left me. It’s still here, alive in my body and heart. And maybe that’s reason enough to keep going.

Closing Thoughts

If you’ve ever felt the tug of something deeper…
If you’ve ever caught yourself repeating a habit you wish you’d let go of…
If you’ve ever longed for space to just be…

Let this be your reminder:
You’re not behind.
You’re not broken.
You’re not alone.

There is power in the pause.
There is wisdom in your noticing.
And there is time.

With love and gratitude,
Michelle