Experiencing Full Moon Yoga in Matunuck

"The vibrations are high tonight.” Michele Maker, co-director of All That Matters Yoga + Wellness in Wakefield, sweeps her arm at the mist creeping over the sand at South Kingstown Town Beach. An ominous black cloud hovers just southeast of where dozens of eager yogis have mats and blankets out for the first night of a summer South County staple, All That Matters’ Full Moon Yoga on the Beach.

Even under the gathering storm clouds, with the wind whipping around us, the mood was jovial. Fellow yogis greeted each other with hugs, catching up after a long winter hibernation. “We don’t want to cancel,” Maker continues as the first thunderstorm of the summer threatens its arrival. “He leaves tomorrow.” She nods to a tall, slim, gray-haired gentleman in a loose T-shirt and board shorts standing where the sand meets grass. Devarshi Steven Hartman, former dean of the famed Kripalu School of Yoga in the Berkshires, just finished a Pranotthan Yoga Teacher Training at All That Matters and was leading tonight’s Full Moon Yoga class before flying back home to Hawaii.

Hartman’s calm and playful presence put storm watchers at ease, and he invited us off the grass and onto the beach. All five senses lit up immediately: soft sand sliding through my toes, the hard crash of waves in my ears, the smell of salt water. Under the low light of the gathering storm, with wind wrapping around our bodies, Hartman began the session with a series of Tai Chi movements as a warmup, leading to some easy swinging twists to add to the levity.

Our bodies primed for the main event, we headed back to the grass just as thunder boomed its arrival. The dark clouds delivered fat drops of rain to the ground. With lightning striking off in the distance, Mother Nature won. Hartman announced the yoga session was moving to the All That Matters studio. We all piled into our cars, snaked out of the town beach lot, and cruised south on Route 2 to downtown Wakefield.

The All That Matters studio is a calming oasis that anchors the retail stores and restaurants along a blossoming Main Street. By 8:15pm, still before the sun lowered, we replaced our mats on the wood floor of the largest studio room. Under the safety of a roof, musician and chant artist Sherrie Howard joined us for the rest of the class, playing live music and leading us in beautiful chants.

Hartman’s eyes sparkled when he invited us to “lean into discomfort,” of our still-wet clothes, setting the tone for a warm, welcoming, and playful session.

After a few simple movements to recenter ourselves in our new environment, Hartman instructed us to find a partner of similar height – “someone you don’t know,” he requests – to begin a series of balance poses. I clasped hands with my new friend Pamela and we moved through the sequence, hands squeezing when balance got the best of us, giggling our way through the progression.

The active session wrapped with the Moon Salutation, which Hartman explained honors the divine feminine. After we gathered into three concentric circles, and with musician Howard in the center, we progressed through a series of poses before stepping left and kicking off the sequence again, moving in a circle. The music matched our rhythmic motions, leading to a collaborative dance in honor of the moon.

We settled back to our mats for a 20-minute savasana. An All That Matters yogi stopped by to ease my shoulders away from my ears, a job hazard of being a writer. Hartman led us through a beautiful guided meditation that kept us anchored in the present and reminded us of the importance of self-love and grace.

While not extensive, I have some experience on a yoga mat. But my practice was always a solo endeavor: me, my mat, the cues of an instructor. Strength and athleticism were core to my practice, and my goal was to wrap myself into pretzel poses to prove what, exactly? That I could?

Right before the Moon Salutation, Hartman pulled on this thread, explaining that the athletic flow of sun salutations actually comes to yoga via the burpee-style exercises favored by the British soldiers during India’s occupation. Some 250 years later, we have competitive yoga. This, however, was yoga as community. And in that room with a bunch of my sweaty, storm-soaked South County neighbors, I felt part of something as big as the Strawberry Moon.