How did this book adventure start?
Directly from the pages of Heals over Head …
When I first arrived in Bali, I did not know that I would be writing this book. I had a few sleepless nights when I got here, and I knew that one more step was necessary for me to be able to better serve my purpose: I had to be able to share it. Eventually, in a very curious way, this book became part of the process.
A few months before I started writing, I was randomly told something quite surprising by a fortune-teller who happened to sit with me and a dear friend in a little café on a cold beach in The Netherlands.
I was told that what I was lacking at this point in my life weren’t ideas or intuition, but my own voice. For someone who talks a lot like me this was rather surprising to hear.
Like every good yogi, the first thing I thought about was my throat chakra, that light blue chakra that sits between our embodied knowledge and the mess of our mind. The voice, that hidden part of the soul that allows us to have empathy because it exposes us to the world, was locked in my case. How was I to develop my project if I could not share with the world where it was coming from?
The second thing I thought was: ‘Is this because of my broken heart?’ Was I down in my emotional cave even though my body was out there in the world? Watching a Dutch sunset, I left these thoughts where they belonged, on that cold beach up north.
Then I came to Bali, from where I am writing to you all. I presented my project to a group of people at Hubud, an innovative collaborative working space, and someone recommended that I write a book if I wanted to involve a wider audience in supporting my project.
The idea intrigued me, but I was, as usual, scared. Was my boring academic writing style the right medium for a crowd-funding book? I decided to meet the CEO of a crowd-funding website for publications to start challenging my fear and try my hand at writing something more personal than critical reflections. After the meeting, I was still quite scared about the whole idea of writing a book. Why? I did not trust my voice.
At first I did not make the connection with what I had been told by the Dutch fortune-teller. I had left that story up north where it started. But eventually, one day, riding my bike in the Balinese sunset, that story returned to me from the cold beach in the Netherlands, all the way to the heat of Bali.
After Yap, Bali became a renewed wake-up call for me, another type of sunrise that would connect me even deeper with my project. Bali became a place of empathy where I allowed myself to feel and listen to my own voice. I allowed myself to connect emotionally to my vision, which until that moment had been a clever idea supported by spiritual intuition. I had set my mind on Yoga Fusion, I had my soul in it, but my emotions had not had the time to express themselves around this project before Bali. Before Bali, too much happened too fast. I needed to stop and listen. And, as I listened, my vision got under my skin.
Before Bali I did not have a voice, I had ideas and ideals, but not a voice. Not only do I know now what Yoga Fusion is, and why it is important, I also know how to speak about it.
Envision, read, share, practice