I had the privilege of having eleven beautiful yogis on my farm and in my home yesterday. These are women I have practiced with twice weekly for years at a stunning and serene studio in my little town here on the north shore of Kaua’i. We were honoring the birthday of our teacher, who brings us together with a gentle gong each class to silence our sweet chatter and begin our hour and a half of yoga practice. Often we gather afterwards at a fabulous coffee shop next door to the studio. I treasure these relationships. These are honest, kind and trustworthy ladies.

So, this was the first time many of them had been to the farm and/or into my home. Again and again, I was greeted with superlatives about how beautiful my farm is and how lovely, peaceful and comfortable my house is. This gave me much pause for thought.

Each day when I awaken here, where I have lived and worked for over 35 years, I am grateful. Each day as well, I am often overwhelmed by all the work I see—all the weeding, all the trimming, all the clean up and recycling, all the reorganizing and ballasting of stuff—in short, all the work.

The fresh perspective of these women was a balm to that part of me that just sees all that constant work. It gave me pause to reflect. To reflect on all that has been created here these past decades. And, while the farm and my home could use hours, days, weeks and even months of work, it will never be perfectly groomed or maintained. We have neither the cash flow, the time, or the energy.

So, today I walked the farm while feeding animals this morning and attempted to look with the eyes of these precious women friends. And, indeed, the farm is beautiful, as is my humble home.

Thanks for that, ladies. Namaste