It was 2020, and I was standing at the bottom of a steep hill in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness next to a massive stack of plywood.
Those sheets would become Arctic Hive’s first three guest cabins… but first? They needed to travel a quarter mile, uphill.
On my back.
There are some things I consider, and think to myself: Yep, not doing that. A few examples:
But for some reason, I looked at that stack of plywood which needed to be hand-hauled UPHILL to the build site and thought, Well. This should be interesting.
I got to work.
At first, I worked on perfecting my technique so that each trip uphill would be as efficient as possible. It was helpful to see the big stack every time because knowing how much was left meant that my body knew what to expect. As the stack dwindled, I could feel my energy draining faster and faster.
In an instant, I realized I needed to muster the same strength I’d been cultivating on my mat during all those hours of Kriya yoga and meditation. It literally blew my mind: Carrying plywood IS Kriya.
This entire journey building Arctic Hive could be mundane task after mundane task… or, it could be one loonnnggg Kriya — which means evolutionary action. If I can do Kriya on my yoga mat, surely I can embody the same strength and stamina with these final sheets of plywood.
(Below: me, carrying interior plywood later on that winter… we don’t have any photos from the original epic plywood haul!
And that’s what I did — and have been doing every day since. I’ve Kriya-ed my way through building four cabins, two domes, garden beds, a dog yard AND our new house that’s nearly complete! In that moment years ago, I realized I could practice yoga anywhere. Anytime. And that was not only “good enough,” it was more than enough. I felt deep in my bones that its the way nature intended it.
(Below: Me, in the rain circa 2020, putting up cedar shakes)
With awareness, breath control, reflection and proper technique, yoga and meditation were literally EVERYWHERE. And where there was yoga, there was my spiritual connection. Yoga means “union,” and as such, the practice pulled together my material world with my spiritual world in a seamless harmony I’ve been so grateful for. No more guilt.
Whether I’m meditating on a cushion or breathing as I install a roof on our new home, my life has become the practice.
And yet (can you believe there’s still more to the story?), there was one final piece missing from the puzzle that was a complete blind spot. I didn’t even see it coming until it arrived in my email inbox.
That story comes tomorrow — and it’s the final chapter of this mini-series with a SUPER exciting announcement for how I want to invite you to kick off 2023.
See you then,
Originally hailing from Wisconsin, Mollie is a cheesehead transplant to Northwest Montana, with degrees in Retail and Journalism from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Today, she lives off the grid, half the year in a Tiny House & half the year in a yurt — both of which she and her husband, Sean, built by hand. Nonprofit Executive Director by day, Mollie also owns and teaches at Yoga Hive — a chain of community yoga studios in the valley.