Bram Levinson

WhistlerI’m sitting on the balcony of the hotel suite that I’ve been put up in for my teaching gig at Wanderlust Whistler, staring at the mountains in front of me. My day has been a long one: a flight from Montreal to Vancouver, a few hours to kill at the airport followed by the bus journey up to Whistler. Almost 12 hours in transit, and despite feeling the fatigue that a journey like today’s brings, I feel so much excitement, which isn’t unusual for me when I travel to places I’ve never been. The complete and utter newness of this experience has my senses heightened, allowing me to soak everything in for the first time. What is somewhat unusual for me is this sense of stillness I’m feeling.

I arrived in Whistler and it was sunny and 25 degrees Celsius. It’s now torrentially raining and it’s gone down to 18 degrees. The wind is cold and blustery, the sheets of water are cascading from the eaves of the roof a metre or two away from me, and I should go inside and put on a sweater. I don’t want to move a muscle. This calm that’s taken over is something I’ve felt before, but it’s been a while…and I don’t want to chase it off by moving.

I felt it for the first time in Mexico in 2010 when I co-led my first yoga retreat with Jennifer Maagendans. I remember floating in the ocean after arriving at our retreat center and feeling this huge epiphany wash over me: I was at work. Floating in the ocean, with the sun beaming down on me, I was at work. I had never felt so happy. I had never felt so much satisfaction before, because it was the first time I was reaping the benefits of having given up my last career to dedicate myself to a life steeped in yoga.

It happened again with even more intensity in Santorini, when I led my first solo retreat. Our group was 17 people, and we were on a boat tour of the caldera, and I felt pure and total connection. I felt completely out of my body, formless, crazy emotional, and grateful for being alive like I had never been before. I’m feeling it again now.

The thunder rumbling overhead, the mountains rising majestically before me, the sound of the raindrops landing heavily on the roof above me…all of it is grounding me here after my day of travel. Once again, my life in yoga has brought me somewhere I never thought I’d be, and once again, I’m vibrating with the humility and gratitude that this life seems to continually bring me back to. I love my life. I love my “work”. I love knowing that even if I won the lottery, I wouldn’t change a thing. I feel like I have already won the lottery.

Life is good. Life is great. Life is grand. I wanted to share it with you.


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