Yesterday, as I was working on the curriculum for the upcoming Conscious Leadership course, I brushed the dust off the manuscript of my first book, The Yoga of Business.
I wrote it in November of last year, but haven't touched it since, because... well, COVID.
The book is written how I speak to you in these newsletters. I take my life experience as an entrepreneur and as a human, and apply that yogic mentality to the wild world of business — which is precisely the foundation for Conscious Leadership!
Pre-COVID, I was determined to get it published, but then the Virus of the Year arrived, and sent me back to real-life business bootcamp, once again.
Knowing what I know now about 2020, I was both surprised and relieved that my words in the book still ring true — maybe more-so than they did before. A true testament to the timeless nature of yoga. Here's an excerpt from the Preface that really stuck with me as we face a new year, starting tomorrow:
Ever since spending another summer in the Midnight Sun, Sean and I have been looking forward to experiencing our first Polar Night in the Arctic. It lasts from November 30th - January 9th here at Arctic Hive. It’s a time that only happens above the Arctic Circle when the sun stays below the horizon during the day. There are just varying shades of twilight blue “light” during a short period each “day”, before darkness settles in again and northern lights dance in the sky.
Here's a good diagram I found on timeanddate.com that really shows how it works:
My body has been feeling it. I’m grateful to be taking A LOT of vitamin D — but I’ve been witnessing myself turning inward more often, sleeping a little longer than usual, and indulging in more self care routines before bed. Truly, I feel like a hibernating animal sometimes!
I was chatting with one of our Yoga Teacher Trainees this past week for her podcast. Jen and I were discussing how I became an entrepreneur, the Yoga Hive story, Sean and my adventures building Arctic Hive, and we dove into the details of our retreats happening this March.
And she suggested something that surprised me: "You should talk about the spiritual component of your retreats. That's what hooks me."
I paused. Spiritual?
Am I creating a spiritual experience? I can't say the word s-p-i-r-i-t-u-a-l and expect people to show up... can I?
Seriously, this was something I had to chew on.
Flash forward to Sunday. Jen and her YTT cohort graduated from their 100% virtual training, and after our closing ceremony (my all-time favorite part of the YTT experience), one of our other grads thanked me. I had tears brimming in my eyes as she said: "Thank you for having the courage to teach this lineage of kriya yoga. I can't imagine it's been easy being different, but it's important. It's life-changing."
And with that spiritual bug in my ear, my wheels started spinning again. Could I be so bold as to admit that we're facilitating a spiritual experience in Yoga Hive classes? In our trainings? On our retreats?
The first time I decided to go to India, I told Sean it would be a one-and-done. Don't worry, honey! I was checking a box on a yoga-related bucket list at the foothills of the Himalayas. I got the e-visa (which is the same price as the 10-year visa) because I was so sure I'd never need it again.
Once I arrived, I'll never forget Blaine and my first interaction with a new friend.
As a gal from the midwest, I'll talk to just about anyone — and I smiled at a man who had just grabbed a coffee from the cafe. I introduced myself, and I learned his name was Thomas (pronounced to-MAS). Hearing his accent, I inquired, "Where are you from?"
Thomas replied casually, "Planet Earth!" He smiled and continued on his way, wherever he was off to. Blaine and I exchanged looks.
What on (Planet) Earth did we get ourselves into?
Isn’t it amazing how much power is behind the phrase, “You can’t.”
So much beauty has been born from the spark of someone saying a version of that phrase to me.
Me: “I’m going to be a fashion journalist!”
Naysayer: “You can’t. There’s no money in journalism.”
✅ Did it for three years after college, where I had a salary and benefits in Madison, Wisconsin and loved every minute.
Me: “I think I’m going to start a nonprofit and make that my full time job.”
Naysayer: “You can’t. That will never work because nonprofits can’t afford employees.”
✅ Founded the nonprofit in 2010, volunteered my time for two years and by 2012 our nonprofit corporation had a board of directors around the country and a growing team of staff. It was my full time job and Riding On Insulin still exists today 😜
Me: “I’m want another dog for dogsledding.”
Naysayer: “You can’t. Five dogs is already too many.”
✅ ... what do you think happened?! Her name is Tundra and she’s the cutest little nugget and I've never once thought to myself that six is too many!
So that’s all fine and good. I’ve learned to weed through the naysayers. But... what if the naysayer isn’t someone outside yourself? What happens when the naysayer from inside says, I can’t?
Here’s a thing about me: I hate making two trips.
I posted this photo on my Instagram story a while back because it truly captures this essence. We forgot to put the ladder in the trailer? Here, let me carry it — amidst all the other things I’ve packed on this wheeler — like a javelin uncomfortably just so that I don’t have to go back twice.
One and done.
You might imagine that by building three Arctic Hive guest cabins over the last six months, one after the other, repeating every single task not one, not two, but THREE TIMES EACH, I’ve had a lot of time to examine this pattern in my life.
I’ll never forget the moment I considered what life would be like without eggs, meat and dairy.
Background (which most of you know): I’m originally from Central Wisconsin. I lived there my entire life, up until I met Sean and moved west. My “motherland” is that of milk, sausage, cheese and the Green Bay Packers.
The way I grew up eating wasn’t gluttonous or unhealthy by any means — but the way I thought about “things that go on a dinner plate” was definitely locked in. You cook some sort of meat. A vegetable. And a grain. Done and done. I created that habit long ago, and I’d never considered changing it.
... until I did.
It was the night of my 32nd birthday in 2018 — something shifted.
There, I said it.
And everywhere I look these days, someone is vying for my attention. They want my vote. They want my money. They want my commitment. And I'm tired of hearing empty promises (followed by big asks) from people who don't walk the walk. Talk all day long about how you can heal me, help me, coach me, teach me... but a little sniffing around on social media, listening to your podcast interviews, and reading every email you've sent me?
Yeah. It all feels empty.
That's the thing about yoga — as I've consistently practiced all aspects of movement and stillness, I've become sensitive to people around me. My discernment improves daily. My attention is mastered and re-mastered all the time. I've become more equanimous in daily life — like the eye of the hurricane.
With consistent practice, and increased sensitivity to truth, authenticity in marketing sings out like church bells on a quiet day. Fake news wears a neon sign that says NOT WORTH YOUR TIME. And sales pitches? I'll be blunt: I don't really care what you offer. I care how you — the teacher — live your life. And if I like how you live, and if I want what you're offering, then sign. me. up.
Last week, I dreamt worms came out of a tiny hole on my stomach.
Anytime Sean and I share our dreams with one another, we Google possible meanings. And although there are a lot of weird “meanings” of dreaming about worms, the one that resonated with me the most (yes, I get to choose!) is the release of negativity. As in, something that you were holding onto — that ultimately wasn’t part of your true nature — was finally ready to get the heck out of you.
Or me, I guess!
Today happens to be Sean and my 9th wedding anniversary (!), and I can’t help but think the worms, and this new chapter — especially our massive undertaking building guest cabins for Arctic Hive... it's our do-over.
In 2017, Sean and I built a small cabin on our property in Montana and filmed for a TV show, Building Off Grid, which still airs on Discovery Channel today.
One of our current teacher trainees described her mood this past weekend: She woke up feeling like a dragon, breathing fire… that so resonated with me. Fiery energy has been abundant in my emotional world lately, and unfortunately, it has been literally abundant in the Pacific Northwest as the wildfires rage on.
So as Blaine and I sat down this past week to plan our annual fall 21-day challenge for Yoga Hive, we were tossing around themes, acknowledging what had been coming up lately. What do we need more of as 2020 draws to a close? What turns chaos and fire into something useful?
The answer was simple: Joy.
Journey into Joy.
Because fire has been present in our day-to-day, it’s been burning up so many things we were ready to let go of, and we’ve found so much space for new things. New pathways. New adventures. Our willingness to detach and discover joy in every moment has never been so fulfilling, and necessary.
The truth is: Joy is power.
Mollie Busby is the owner of Yoga Hive, and writes inspirational musings for our newsletter, which we post here, along with upcoming trainings and workshops. To filter, navigate using the links above to see the category you're interested in. If you have questions, or wish to get in touch with Mollie, drop in to a class, or connect online: