Reykjavík Grapevine - 10.08.2012, Síða 49

The Icelandic sun warms our cheeks
as we arrive at Lýsuhóll farm on the
Snæfellsness peninsula. The area is
well known as the setting of Jules
Verne’s novel ‘Journey to the Cen-
tre of the Earth,’ but on this trip, it
proves also to be a journey to the
centre—of the self.
We are here for the Sumarsólstöður
Yoga Festival, held annually during the
Summer Solstice when the days are the
longest. The festival goes on for three to
four days, but it’s possible to go for a day
or two, which is what we do.
Inhale. The mountains around the
farm consist of sandy black rock for-
mations that look as if they are about
to collapse any second. Exhale. I pitch
my tent. There are around forty people
at the festival and most of them inhabit
tents, although it is possible to stay in a
room inside the house.
There’s no time to waste. The
Kundalini yoga introduction is begin-
ning. A group of mostly women sit in a
circle and listen to the teacher, Estrid.
“The mind is like an untamed horse,”
she says. “We have to learn how to tame
it. Kundalini yoga represents one of the
attempts to gently tame it.”
Kundalini yoga, which originates
from ancient India, is focused on sounds
and the chanting of the mantras, which
use powerful syllables or sets of words
for spiritual transformation. It’s about
the inward travel, finding a connection
to something larger than us.
DON'T WORRY, DON'T BE AFRAID
The introduction is over and we have a
30-minute drive before we arrive at Djú-
palónssandur, where the sea glistens
in the sun. A Bill Hicks quote comes to
my wandering mind: “Hey, don't worry,
don't be afraid, ever, because this is just
a ride.”
The grass stings through the yoga
mat as I sit down in the cross-legged lo-
tus position at Hólahólar, the crater of a
volcano. I close my eyes and attempt to
connect the dots. I make pulsing hand
movements, which are often directed
towards one specific part of the body—
in this case towards the glands and the
hormones connected to them. I give into
it, breathing rhythmically in... and out…
concentrating on the body; my mind
travels inwards.
Back at Lýsuhóll, dinner is ready.
The food is organic, vegetarian and deli-
cious: lentil soup, salads and homemade
bread. After dinner, I take part in the
‘Seva,’ which literally means ‘selfless
service,’ everyone takes turns helping to
do the dishes
I take my yoga mat and move on to
the big meditation room. Yoga Nidra
is on the schedule. This soft version of
yoga is far less physical and my mind
drifts off into a strange state of con-
sciousness. This type of final meditation
happens at the end of a practice and
proves to be one of the most intense ex-
periences of the festival for me, sending
me somewhere between being awake
and asleep, aware and oblivious. The
day ends.
BREAK ON THROUGH TO THE OTH-
ER SIDE
At 5:45 in the morning I’m all but wide-
awake. My muscles are sore and I’m
exhausted. My mind, however, feels
relatively calm. Outside, birds are chirp-
ing. I crawl out of my tent and into the
meditation room.
After breakfast we gather for a yoga
practice outside. While I’m staring into
the blue sky, I keep thinking that the
powerful landscape around me facili-
tates this practise. The mountains in-
spire energy and power, yet are impreg-
nated with the still freedom that is only
to be found in Iceland. The exercises
get more difficult and my leg muscles
shake. There’s no pressure though. You
do what you can, and you learn to un-
derstand your own limits.
In the afternoon we visit Lý-
suhólslaug, a pool that supposedly has
cleansing powers. Tara, a massage ther-
apist who also performs water shiatsu (a
relaxing water treatment involving wa-
ter floating), hands me what looks like
a silver glitter helmet from the future, a
floating hat that is meant to facilitate the
practice.
I plunge into the algae-filled pool.
I float on the water and she moves my
body gently through it. I’m weightless.
The sounds of other people in the swim-
ming pool are muffled, almost disap-
pearing. As I float, I lose all sense of time
and space.
As I take down my tent on Saturday
night, I am grateful to have come to this
festival. Yoga is a way of life. The word
comes from Sanskrit and means “union.”
It is a personal union, and no matter how
much I try to recount it, it is something
you will need to explore and discover
yourself. Having said that, it’s of course
not the only way to achieve fulfilment
and happiness, it’s just one way. But it’s
definitely worth trying.
The Sumarsólstöður Yoga Festival is an annual festival held on the Snæfellsnes peninsula dur-
ing Summer Solstice. More information at http://sumarsolstodur.123.is/. The festival can be
reached by bus. Book tickets can be purchased at www.sterna.is or call +354-5511166.
49 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 12 — 2012TRAVEL
Exploring Infinite Consciousness In Snæfellsnes
Sumarsólstöður Yoga Festival
Words
Sarah Pepin
Photo
Alísa Kalyanova
reykjavikjazz.is
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AUGUST 18
– SEPTEMBER 1