I’ve been diligently practicing yoga since 2015. A former partner who was a Bikram competitor and teacher gifted me the practice, saying it was “the one thing I’d like to leave everyone with; it’s the greatest gift.”
The spell cast was on par with Stevie Nicks’ infamous chorus to Silver Springs.
I moved to Topanga in December 2024 and my friends here immediately recommended Ethereal. Throughout the past one and a half years, Ethereal’s teachers “met me where I was at,” facilitating everything from breathwork journeys to surgical rehab after broken bones. More importantly, a community developed in centric circles, from the cocoon of the Ethereal studio to the surf of Topanga; candlelit yin to “Sunday services” and cacao ceremonies at instructor’s homes.
I have developed friendships that have spanned sport to professional worlds, each spiraling out and up, helping others – and me – from the heart of Pine Tree Circle in Topanga Canyon.
At some point in the past, I stood outside Ethereal, waiting for an evening yin class. Another gentleman was outside, and we made small talk. He shared that it was his birthday with a twinkle in his eye.
As people trickled in and we moved through a slow flow, Lawrence’s curiosity and compassion silently filled the space. The class sang “Happy Birthday” to Lawrence, then dissolved into the night.
Lawrence was omnipresent in Topanga – weekend yoga, the Bistro, TLC. Every time we chatted it seemed he was back from volunteering at a Vipassana.
I had surgery in late March, and saw Lawrence at the Bistro shortly thereafter. He looked the same as always – light, curious, dressed in loose clothing with his trademark scarf and twinkle in his eyes. We exchanged a few moments of greetings, and moved about our days.
Lawrence passed in early April. A teacher from Ethereal texted me from across the world to let me know.
The teacher and I exchanged voice notes, in which she shared: “There’s just no way when I left that I thought I was never going to see him again…it’s pretty brutal and just a stark reminder of how fragile life is…He loved writing letters, and he wrote me a handwritten letter and photographed it and sent it to me when I first arrived in South Africa…his daughter sent me photos of another letter he was busy writing and didn’t finish that I can’t bring myself to read…I feel honored I was able to get such a wonderful gift…he was one of the anchors of the space [Ethereal Yoga], and I would always tell him, ‘Lawrence, I don’t think you understand or fully comprehend how important you are to this space. You bring so much humility and vulnerability and…just such an open heart.’ He was just so willing to do the work.”
I responded with a simple text: “Lawrence is gone because his work is done, and now it’s your job to ‘finish the letter’ for the next person.”
Within a month of this exchange, the Topanga community received news that Ethereal would be closing its doors at the end of this month.
On rare occasions, people are so foundational that even physical places evolve with them.
Lawrence received genuine joy from giving, and he shared that joy effortlessly and, largely, silently, in keeping with the spirit and teachings of Vipassana, as both a student (Ethereal Yoga) and teacher (Esalen Institute).
Sandra, April, Roxy, Amit, Megan, Aimee, Rachel, Annmarie, Natalie, Chelsea, Erica, and so many others have shared that joy with this canyon through Ethereal Yoga’s sacred space. The team has persevered through a pandemic, wildfires, and the general bohemian beauty that blows through this canyon, wild as the wind.
On May 21st I took my last class, a somatic flow to rinse and release: respecting what was, reinventing for what will be.
In the previous days, I traded emails with a teacher, doing my best to release with the same grace the Ethereal Yoga community has both shown and taught me:
“…I have heard about the studio…sad, surprising, also kind of fitting, right? Life is…ethereal. Appreciate the people, places, and moments while they last, because it’s fragile, fickle, and fleeting.”
During breathwork May 17th, facilitator Rachel Blume reminded us “The heart has no glitches.” Pain has a purpose, and the exhale can be easeful.
Merriam-Webster defines “ethereal” as follows: “something extremely delicate, light, and airy that seems to belong to another world. It often refers to things of heavenly or spiritual beauty that appear too perfect or impalpable for the physical, earthly realm.”
Like Lawrence – like all of us – Ethereal Yoga was too good to last. There is cause for sadness and grief.
There is also cause for Hope of what this capable community will create next, because there is always a “next.”
The Joy of yoga is an eternal reason to get up every day and make sure we’re “livin’ on the mat” as my teacher Aaron King reminds us.
I’m grateful to Ethereal Yoga for the alchemizing asanas, the magic moments and “original seeds” that were planted in the fertile soil of Topanga Canyon where physical and spiritual worlds collide and dance, however ephemerally, “where the mountains meet the sea.”
Like most things in life, Ethereal Yoga was there, seemingly eternal – until the moment it wasn’t. Blink and you might miss the magic.
May we all “finish our letters.”
By guest contributor
Andrew Parrott
