An update from the studio

A destroyed house sits amid debris in Chimney Rock, NC after Hurricane Helene.

An update from the studio

Are you safe?

Those of you who are outside the Asheville area might not know how badly our communications have been impacted over the last week.  We have had incredibly spotty cell service, let alone Wi-Fi, in West Asheville.  Everything is on the neighborhood communication telephone line.  Information, misinformation, resource sharing, hunting, gathering.  “How are you?” “Are you safe?” “Is your home ok?” “Do you have food?” “Water?” “What do you need?” 

A memorable but minor, strange part of this experience that has come to serve as a kind of a symbol of the early days of the Flood of ’24, is what we’ve been calling “echo texts”. I’m sure many of you who were trying to reach out to loved ones outside or inside the community experienced this. Your message tries to go out, and won’t, or you can’t tell if it did, but someone sees it and responds, maybe an hour later, and that response lands in your messages again and again, saying the same thing.  So it seems like someone is asking you, over and over, “Are you safe”?  “Are you ok?” “What is going on?” “What do you need?” “What do you need?” “What do you need?”

We know our minds have been like these echo texts for the past week. There is so much to think about, so much to do, so many needs and options and survival instincts bouncing around in our brains that it is hard to filter the important from the chatter, the panic from the calm, the fight and flight from the light.

Communities all across western North Carolina are devastated. Images in this post include Swannanoa, Chimney Rock, and the River Arts District in Asheville.

Where we are right now.

We are physically okay. All of the staff are safe. We have heard from many of you—our students, neighbors, and friends—and so far everyone we’ve heard from is okay. But Asheville is devastated. Our hearts are breaking for everything that is happening. The recovery process will take years. Some things will never be the same.

Hundreds of people remain missing. Many haven’t yet even been able to access homes or businesses to measure the extent of their losses. Electricity and some semblance of cell and internet service are slowly being restored in some places but are still out in many others. In Asheville, major water lines, the backup lines to those lines, and the roads to reach those lines for repair were all washed away. We will not have running water for weeks, maybe longer.

The studio had some water incursion, but the damage was contained. Classes remain canceled as we take stock and help our neighbors. Once power and reliable internet are back, we will be back—with online classes at the very least.

For now, we are taking a breath and regroup and reflect. To pause and notice. To feel the changes. But we are feeling a palpable need to be in a room, or online, or somewhere, meditating with our yoga community as soon as it is possible. Not as an escape, but as a resource we can marshal within ourselves so we can move forward for our community from a centered space, to take action rather than being in a constant state of reaction. We will reopen as soon as we have power and will have virtual classes as soon as we can, so we can meditate together, practice together, be together.

Take time to meditate.

It is hard to take time to meditate right now. Meditation seems like doing nothing, and there is just so much to do. But as yogis, as Purna Yogis, as Heartful Meditation practitioners, now is the time for us to put our training and our practicing to the test. How much more effective might your planning sessions, your foraging missions, your communications with potential donors, your outreaches to those in need, be if you allow yourself a few minutes, just two, three, or five, to connect to your breath, to center your mental energy around your core beliefs, to touch your heart center, to give your nervous system a much-deserved break?

Sri Aurobindo’s Gayatri, which we often chant to conclude class, was originally written as a marriage blessing and is a mantra of transformation. Our home has been transformed, in ways too terrible to fully grasp yet. But we can use the ancient sounds of Sri’s Gayatri to remind us that yoga is a lifelong exercise in illumination and transformation. Though everything changes, falls apart, and changes again all around us, the light within is constant and eternal. Read more about Sri’s Gayatri here, and follow along with Letitia as she chants it here.

Be kind to yourselves, and please ask for the help you need. We can’t wait to meditate together, practice together, be together. Thank you for being part of the PY828 community.

Ways to help.

There are so many good organizations on the ground right now that could use your support. This is an incredibly detailed and regularly updated list of resources and ways to help in WNC, and Blue Ridge Public Radio also has a good list here.

If you’ve been thinking about signing up for the Great Yoga Wall Level Two Training that was scheduled for later this month (now to be held sometime in January), you can still get a the full training pre-recorded, along with a digital manual. More info here.

If you have the resources and feel move to make a direct contribution, please do so here:

  • Venmo: @Letitia-Walker-3 (Note: be sure to include the hyphens! If asked to verify the last four digits of Letitia’s phone number, they are 8213.)
  • Paypal: practice@purnayoga828.com (Use this email address to let us know that you are okay, if we haven’t heard from you!)

Your support means so much to us right now. We all have a long road ahead, and the journey is lighter knowing our community is with us.

Letitia Walker
letitia@liveyoganow.com
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