I heard all good things about her, this woman named Suki who does massage and teaches the morning yoga. After a little stroll on the beach, I scooted way up to the yoga studio overlooking all of St. John. I was just a wee bit late.
No one was there. Oh well, I figured I’d put yoga with Suki on my blossoming future St. John to-do list. I stretched out and did my own yoga which is extremely modified and far from challenging.
I heard light steps behind me, and in walks a glowing woman in the 60’ish age range dressed in a bright pink tank and comfy yoga pants and about 5 sets of beautiful beads around her neck that I later found out she threaded herself. Oh, and a flower in her hair. I knew it was Suki. Not only did I get to meet her, I got to have a private class with just the two of us.
I heard light steps behind me, and in walks a glowing woman in the 60’ish age range dressed in a bright pink tank and comfy yoga pants and about 5 sets of beautiful beads around her neck that I later found out she threaded herself. Oh, and a flower in her hair. I knew it was Suki. Not only did I get to meet her, I got to have a private class with just the two of us.
She was running late due to a meditation she was leading on Trunk Bay beach bringing in the new age of Aquarius. Yes, this is Suki. I didn’t expect less and couldn’t be happier to have a private lesson.
From one sun salutation to another, some planks, chaturanga's and long standing balance poses, I enjoyed the space and the silences. I never had one-on-one yoga before and I found it very interesting to notice that my mind still lacked some compassion for my yogini limitations even without other students to measure myself up against. What it comes down to is that it’s my work always to stay on my own yoga mat and meet myself exactly where I am. Where I am is just beautiful.
Suki started the practice with the phrase, “we are the ones that we are waiting for," and ended it with the same passage and with a Sanskrit song. No music necessary for this class, the silence was perfect and allowed for intermittent exchanges about who were are and what brought us to where we are. She’s lived on St. John and has been teaching at Maho for 17 years. She's raised 3 kids, the oldest being 29. At one point she was, as she said, going to save the world as a social worker. She worked in prisons and with kids and after some burnout realized it was just too much and that her work in the world, and the most important challenge and gift would be to simply take the time to raise three consciously aware kids.
As I lay there in shavasana with one hand on my heart and one hand on my belly, I sighed a big sigh of hopefulness for the next 50 years of my life that will likely be sweet, sometimes bittersweet, surprising and, no doubt, an adventure.
Suki promises to keep me posted of the evolution, revolution or maybe even demolition of Maho Bay Camps. Let’s hope the new owner has the highest level of consciousness required to keep a beautiful thing alive.
