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community: your voice 
At this time of year, as the days have been gradually leaning into winter, I have been aware of the light: it has been changing in some subtle way, acquiring a more subdued quality as the sun’s arc across the sky shifts a little each day. I love this time of year: the crisp days, the soups and stews I find myself cooking, the gorgeous turquoise sunsets, and the dark itself that comes with the lessening of light. I feel drawn in—both to the indoors and to myself. There is an excitement that comes with this inward-turning movement, a feeling of greater intimacy with myself and of moving toward some quieter mystery. And sometimes there is sadness. A sense of the fleetingness of things, a sense of all things changing and, finally, dying. “All the thinking is about loss” —a line from some poet (Hass? Transtromer?) keeps coming to mind. One of the sad things that has marked this fall has been hearing about an unexpected health crisis that has befallen a fellow yoga teacher, Kristi Rudolph. Kristi is a youthful fifty-year-old Ashtanga yoga practitioner, teacher and dancer. She has taught at multiple studios in the Bay area over the years, and many people have been touched and inspired by her example and her teaching. This fall, while leading a retreat in Italy, Kristi had a sudden and debilitating stroke. In treating her, it was discovered that she also has advanced-stage cancer. I’ve had a reaction of shock and disbelief to this news: it’s hard to fathom that someone who seems so radiantly healthy and who has, in fact, dedicated much of her life to such a life-giving practice as yoga, can now be faced with this. Her situation is a stark reminder of how instantly and dramatically our lives can veer in a completely unforeseen direction. It is a reminder to cherish the body we find ourselves in, whatever its limitations and imperfections may be. It is a reminder to love this life, as much as we can. These are some of the responses I’ve found myself having. But there’s also been the thought: what can I do for her? Or what can we do for her? It seems there should be some collective response, some action from the yoga community. After receiving treatment for many weeks in Italy, Kristi returned recently to the West coast and is now faced with the staggering costs of medical treatment, not to mention just the cost of basic necessities. Aside from the good wishes and prayers that people are sending her way, Kristi has asked for help of a very practical nature: financial. In response to this, several teachers are offering classes at the Berkeley Yoga Center on January 13th to pool some funds together to send to Kristi. The feeling for many of us is that we want to do all we can to support Kristi as she makes her way through this dark and difficult time in her life. I’ve been moved to see the yoga community mobilizing to offer this tangible support to a sister in need. As I write this, listening to the rain gently drumming overhead, I find myself coming back again to poetry. This is a poem by Wendell Berry called “To Know the Dark.” “To go in the dark with a light is to know the light. To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight, and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings, and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.” If you would like to know more about the events planned on Kristi’s behalf, visit the Berkeley Yoga Center at www.berkeleyyoga.com. If you cannot attend but would like to contribute to help Kristi, please address checks to Kristi Rudolph, 221 Gowen Place NW, Bainbridge Island, WA 98110. Cybčle Tomlinson is a yoga teacher, mother, and the co-director of the Berkeley Yoga Center. She lives in Berkeley with her husband and two sons.
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