In June, nature and the NYC Park's Department were more powerful than 13,000 people doing sun salutations on NYC's Central Park: we got rained out. (More reason for mind training, folks! Were you really thinking about the sun??!?!? Or were you eyeing your cute neighbor? Or drooling over that tasty treat in your goodie bag?) Flavorpill promised to try Y@GL again in September. But as of last week, they've moved Attempt #2 to 2011, promising not just a better experience then (lines fewer than 20 blocks long), but more tie-ins to charities, a national edition of these gi-normous "yoga experiences," and a weekly health and wellness mailer.It makes a lot more sense for an event that size to generate something more useful than an entry in the Guinness World Records. After all, most yogis want to make a difference.In case you've forgotten---or couldn't make it in June---you can watch Flavorpill's videos and catch up. (They must have been shot from the helicopter that hovered over us making it impossible to hear.) And they really do provide a better view than we got from the lawn itself.So even if you can't do your downdogs in a throng of thousands, on a nubby lawn, with a new slippery mat (c/o Jet Blue) this September, you can still attend Flavorpill's smaller yoga events (at places like MoMA) during the year. And of course, you'll start getting the wellness mailer next month. Just think: there's a whole year of them to warm you up for Y@GL 2011. And if you're among those who find the so-what factor fairly high, then you've got an entire month free of cheek-chewing. No more massive public gatherings in the name of yoga.... for at least September.
Need a Spot? Yoga on the Great Lawn, June 22
YogaGreat Lawn
Be one of the 10,000 people moving your asana on Central Park's Great Lawn next Tuesday (1 week folks!) June 22 for a HUGE group yoga class.Flavorpill sponsors Elena Brower (who' s done previous events at MoMA and The Standard Hotel) plus 20 live acts including musicians to lead an evening of yoga and New York City sweaty fun.Be one of the first 5 people to leave a comment on this post (or DM me on Twitter: "@Yoga Nation") and I'll guarantee you a spot! (be sure to leave me your email address)To take your chances in the open lottery (remember, they expect to overflow 10,000), register here and invite your friends.See you there!
Oh, the Annoyances of Yoga Class
Yoga class etiquette. When to make noise, when to shut up, how to dress, even how to unroll your mat. Pretty common sense stuff---but not, apparently, common-sensical enough. Showcased Sunday in the Grey Lady, NY Region, are stories of yogis' transgressions. "Stretch etiquette for yogis."The reporter finds that lots of things anger New York yogis, from leaving class early to skimpy attire:
Some men take a minimalist approach to yoga wear, and not everyone is pleased about having a sweaty, stripped-down man within arm’s reach. “There are guys in European bathing suits,” said an outraged Kendra Cunningham, a yoga lover and comedian who lives in Brooklyn. “We’re not in Capri here; it’s Cobble Hill.”
And she has prominent quotes from the excellent yoga blogger Yoga Dork. Here commenting on B.O.:
No one smells like a rose in yoga class. And you shouldn’t, because some people are allergic to or just dislike inhaling perfume. But body odor shouldn’t make you gag, either. Foot odor can be even worse. “I can handle B.O.,” the Dork said, “but there is nothing worse than stinky feet when you are mat-to-mat and you are upside down and close to people’s feet.”
It all comes down to knowing where you are and who's around you. In fact, the people who are the most disruptive probably just need more yoga.Then they might not have to arrive in such a key-clanging whirlwind and leave early, before the final relaxation they desperately need.
No Plans Yet? Hit Yogi Fest Today
Sometimes it's just too much to make Memorial Day plans ahead of time. If you leave now, you'll still have time to catch most of Yogi Fest 2010 in New Windsor, NY. Swing by for a yoga class, some yummy food, entertainment in the children's tent and an amazing kirtan with various Bhakti Collective folk, including Shyamdas this evening. Here are the deets:Directions to Yogi Fest 2010
2010: Yogi Fest March 29th
MAIN HALL
11:30 AM-12:45 PM - Yoga and Pranayam with Amy Pearce-Hayden (The Yogascape Carmel, NY) (All levels)
1:15-2:30 PM - Yoga with Bryn (Laughing Lotus) (All levels)
3:00-4:15 PM - Energizing Your Spine: The Science of Twisting with Raghunath and Bridget Cappo
4:30-5:00 PM - The Yoga of Gratitude with Dhanurdhara Swami and Raghunath
5:00-5:30 PM - Arati (traditional puja with ghee lamps with kirtan.)Kirtan by Prema Hara
5:30-7:00 PM - Prasadam (feast) official end of our program. You're invited to stay as more and more Indian families come for kirtan and talks with two distinguished guests:
7:00 PM -? Krishna Kirtan and Katha with Shyam Das and Dhanurdhara Swami
KIRTAN TENT
11:30 AM-12:20PM - Kirtan with Keli Lalita ( Karuna Shakti Yoga)
12:30-1:30 PM - How to Play Kartalas (Indian hand cymbals) with Balaram Chandra (Kripalu Yoga)
1:40-2:20 PM - Transcendental Poetry with Mark Oppenheimer
2:30-3:10 PM - Yoga for Depression: Q&A with Mark Oppenheimer and Raghunath
3:15-420 PM - Chanting with Keli
CHILDREN'S TENT
11:00 AM-4:15 PM - kids yoga, Crafts and games, stories
2:30 PM - Special Event: Pyari the Magician
REJUVENATION CENTER: COMPLIMENTARY BODY WORK:
Mark Terza of Metta Massage @ The YogaScape
Balarama Chandra Thai Massage
Tammi Price of Sacred Traditions: Acupuncture
Melinda & TJ Macchiaroli Thai and chair massage from Bodhi Spa Hudson NY
All Things Considered tracks The Great Oom
Earlier this spring Columbia Journalism professor Robert Love published his book The Great Oom, The Improbably Birth of Yoga in America (Viking Adult, $27.95). This biography chronicles Pierre Bernard's transformation from an Iowa-born nobody into a radical leader of mind-body consciousness--in the late 19th century. According to this NPR story, contemporary yogis have Bernard to thank for the existence of yoga in America. All Things Considers interviews Love on this fascinating story in which author Robert Love tells NPR's Guy Raz how Bernard weathered early rumors of rampant sex and drug use, and later an arrest, to lay the foundation for an empire. Listen to the interview with Robert Love on NPR here (opens an MP3 file).
Yoga in LA, Part 3
Silver Lake
In Casbah Cafe on W Sunset Blvd, eating a huge bowl of spicy chicken soup with a slab of chicken meat in the middle, huge hunks of carrots, potato, onion and half a cob of corn. Surely this brew will cure any bugs that have jumped on board for my quick three-day excursion to LA. My body wants to know what the hell we are doing staying up till 3am New York time. By 9pm at night LA time, I'm feeling so loopy that I mistake my white rental car with blue Nevada plates for someone else's almost identical white car with California plates. I can't understand why the doors won't unlock until my eyes refocus on the Starbucks cup inside near the driver's seat and I realize it's not even my car. The outside of the Casbah borders on Hyperion Street, and a few slanted tables are set into the deep trellised shrubbery of jasmine, bougainvillea, and grape vines. A mural of seductive women peeks out from behind the vertical garden, and tiny white lights have been strung along the top of the trailing plants. It's a fragrant and ebullient environment. "Ah," says Neal Pollack, wearing a tight-fitted blue leather jacket and jeans, "we take it for granted. It can't mask the rotten stink that is LA." Inside, the cafe sells straw hats and silk brocade bedspreads, handmade dolls, and girls' silk dresses. Its Moroccan theme means a variety of teas, a generous selection of sweets including honey-glazed apricots, figs, and puddings. Seventies Brazilian music plays on the stereo lending the cavernous space an echo-y flashback to airier times.
Yoga at The Raven, Tony Guiliano, used to work at Still YogaStrip mall off RowenaSpa called The Raven; yoga room is off that, one open room, Anusara with guest appearances by Acro Yogis (look at schedule) IS it just that one room? what's his deal with the spa? Walk in through a covered wood walkway with rattan furniture and big tropical plants--bougainvillea, big broad palm leaves, low tiled tables. Feels very Asian. Like walking into a hotel in Bali? Malaysia? When I leave just after 8, it's sunset and "The Raven Spa" neon sign is on, a bright pink against the dark wood of the building and the river flashing headlights.Tony Guiliano, handsome Italian guy in blue canvas martial arts pants folded over at the waist, white tank top, and a mala of rudraksh and white crystal around his neck. Sits on slightly elevated stage with huge garlanded Ganesh in a circle behind him. I almost walk in the front door off the street smack into a room of yogis meditating in perfect posture--catch myself and re-route, as usual, I'm having timing and parking issues. A lot of dudes in this class; everyone seems to be in their late 30s, early 40s, Tony's peers, a good looking healthy lot. And they seems to know the principles of AnusaraI come in late, parking shenanigans, pay in a frenzy, changing hurriedly, slip in during OM and chanting kneel on my shins and when we're done unroll my mat. The class is small and Tony notices me, peeks out from behind a pillar, "Hi! What's your name?" I tell him. "Everyone, this is Joelle." Ah yes, the Anusara greeting, so embarrassing to me as a more private New Yorker. Even if the class wasn’t small Tony would probably call me out. He's friendly, verbal, tactile. He knows everyone's name, and gives lots of hands on adjustments and verbal encouragement during the class. Class begins and Tony comes over, "So it looks like you've done Anusara before?""A little. I've done a lot of yoga."He comes over many many times during the class. During my updog, "Beautiful, now bring the tops of your ears back. Beautiful alignment, beautiful earrings, just gorgeous. Okay, now take the top of your head down. Beautiful! Wow!" Tony gives a lot of compliments and gives me a lot of adjustments including putting his fingers on my tailbone to direct the action of my pelvis--an intimate action even for me to do on myself!-- grabbing my entire upper thigh close to my groin and rotating it inwards in splits pose, and putting his hands around my rib cage to show the necessary cinching action for a good handstand. It's a lot of physical attention, and part of me loves it and craves it. Tony's clearly a great guy, heart's in the right place. Another part of me wonders if this is how he treats every new student? Or is it just new female students? Or is it just me? When I'm in a reclined twist on my back and he's adjusting my neighbor we talk in whispers about Michele, my friend who recommended his class.
"Are you a cook, too?" He asks.
"I'm a writer; so is Michele!"
"She just took off didn't she?"
"Yeah, she's staying at my place."
"So do you live nearby?"
"I live in Brooklyn!"
"No way!" He looks disappointed.
"Do you know Dumbo--well you must--"
I interrupt him. I know what he's going to say. "I know that studio, I know Tara." I know he's going to mention Abhaya, a new Anusara studio in Brooklyn, "I'm good friends with her boyfriend."
In spite of the manhandling, and Tony's unstoppable positivity--which is overwhelming for a New Yorker who is used to more anonymity than notoriety--the practice is deep and clear and joyful, and I feel the stress of my jet lag, weird sleep, and too much pressure even out. I feel smooth and clear, even some joy in my heart. My final relaxation is not deep--my nervous system is still jumpy--but I feel great afterwards. In seated closing pose I felt my heart connected to Tony's. Sweet. Standing around in the small lobby changing area after class, someone asks about Tony’s wife. "She's here! She was in class! She's back from Hawaii!" Tony gets talking to me and his wife leaves. "See you at home, Tone." She's a very tall woman. A couple of other students are still hanging around to see how our conversation will unfold. I feel a bit like a celebrity myself, being treated with such interest.
Tony says to me, "I was all excited, I thought I was gonna get another excellent student. When you said Brooklyn I thought, oh no! She doesn't live here!"
Tony gives me about 10 hugs before I leave. “Listen, thanks for coming to class. So great to meet you! Michele is a sweetheart, awesome lady. Thanks for coming!"
"Thanks for all the assists. People rarely assist me anymore, and I miss it. I want to learn."
"Yeah you're in that weird place where you're clearly not a 911 case, and also you have a strong energy field, I could see it as soon as you walked into class, you're strong, which people might interpret as 'don't tell me what to do' kind of thing."
"You're probably right; I should be more proactive about making friends with my teachers, letting them know I want the help."
"Yeah, just say hey could you help me out with this or that. Because you have so much physical intelligence--I could just see it so clearly--people are probably thinking they should leave you alone. But let me tell you, 3-4 classes, learn some refinements, your whole practice could change, and open up."
Some other students talk to me after class. A woman around my age with long curly dark hair says, "As soon as you walked in I thought I knew you. I used to live in New York."
"Maybe it's from the New York yoga world?" I say not really believing it.
The truth is, all my adult life people have told me that I remind them of someone they know. Once a guy ran into a restaurant in New York where I was having dinner with an old friend, and exclaimed between the packed tables, "Wow I didn't know you were in town, how are you? How's everything?" And when he realized his mistake, he backed away awkwardly and ran out of the restaurant.
A sunburned guy asks if I've ever taken Kenneth's class. "I don't usually practice Anusara in New York," I say, but that seems inconceivable to him. "Me and my wife are good friends of his," he says like he was saying that Derek Jeter was a close personal friend. I'm at a loss, but appreciate that he wants to share this with me. He's proud and excited about his connection. "I'll have to keep my eye out for him."--Anusara community--heart centered--very American, very appealing after the rush and muscularity and celebrity of the Mother Ship yoga.
Kundalini--Golden Bridge
Moved Feb 14, 2011 from farther west in Hollywood when AMC (??) bought their building to make a museum (from DeLongpre and Vine) New building seems especially built for Kundalini, and they are the sort of organization that would fundraise like a church to built something special for themselves, dedicated parking lot, cheap prices--$3 for first 2 hours, $3 after that. Where the old space was cavernous, ramshackle, and kind of a wonderland of merchandise (books, clothes, props, weird misc things) the new space is compact: a small boutique, a thoughtfully constructed cafe, and a modest bookstore. The check in desk is in the center like a central panel. Bathrooms are unisex, many self-published titles, Yogi Bhajan--give history--Gurmukh--give history from the interview she gave at Omega in 2009--"I Am a Woman: Creative, Sacred, and Invincible" Kundalini by Yogi Bhajan, essential Kriyas for Women in the Aquarian Age. "Man to Man--A Journal of Discovery for the Conscious Man.” "Transitions to a Heart-Centered World.” "Relax & Renew"--"Sexuality & Spirituality" explicit directions on when and where and how to have sex ** GET THIS TITLE & INSERT INFO IN TANTRA CHAPTER AS CONTRAST? "The sex game must start 72 hours before sex, and somewhere outside of the bedroom. So, for 2-3 days in advance, prepare the mind, think it over, and build yourself up to it. The mind is the biggest sex organ in the human body. Sex is an attitude of love, when every cell ad part of the body is stimulated and awakened. In the days before, take time to do the Venus kriyas." Rules of thumb: open communication, empty stomach, man breathes through right nostril, woman breathes through left; 2-3 hours to play; massage various body parts: breasts, neck, lips, cheeks, ears, spine, thighs, calves, clit, vagina--also rules for after sex as well.
Framed poster in the boutique: SUTRAS FOR THE ACQUARIAN AGE 1. understand through compassion otherwise you will misunderstand the times 2. Recognize that the other person is you 3. when the time is on you start, and the pressure will be off 4. there's a way through every block 5. Vibrate the cosmos and the cosmos shall clear the path WHAT IS THE ACQUARIAN AGE? WHEN DID IT START? DID YOGI BHAJAN LIVE IN IT?
BOUTIQUE: aroma candles, soaps, oils, Buddha’s, incense, meditation cushions, white clothes for sale, cotton bags, men’s and women’s.
STUDIO: Can be separated into two studios--one door says Rishikesh, the other says Amri, retractable divider folded back, so we're in one huge room with a very high ceiling--wood beams and air ducts--raftered ceiling, dark wood floor, brick walls on three sides, and a removable fourth wall--large high stage--large gong on the right back, large illuminated orange crystal on the right front (salt?)--two bronze cow statues seated on floor beneath stage, bronze goddess (4 hands, two in prayer, two out to the side) crown, cross legged, btw the 2 cows)--framed prints of gods and goddess behind the stage and set into the brick wall by the door--also Krishna and Yogi Bhajan; also Govinda leading a flock of cows (pan figure)--good mix of men and women in the class, younger and older, one woman brought her son who looks about 7--a few people are wearing white: pants, shirt, and kerchief or turban, there's actually a black man beside me and the other newcomer beside me is a Korean man--about 25 people in class. Begin by chanting--very loud--OM NAMO GURU DEV NAMO x3--Motherly women in white dress, and turban with a jewel in the center and a string of clear beads, unlikely person to have a mixing board under her right hand (and a white Mac that she was DJing from )tells us about a guy who says after 13 years of not making it in LA he's moving to New York, Things go well and then they fall apart, they go well and then they fall apart. She says, I don't know what he should do, but I know when there's some unmovable obstacle that doesn't make sense that I can't solve, I ask for help from Ram Dass, give it up to the mysterious powers, and don't try to solve it yourself. Ask for help. Also, this morning a woman in class started feeling dizzy so she lay down, and couldn't get up, All class she couldn't get up, at the end of class she couldn't get up. So we called her husband and still she couldn’t get up, then the paramedics came. She was vomiting and in a terrible state and they don't know what's wrong with her. So she's been on my mind all day. She's got 4 kids and a sweet husband. I'd like to ask Ram Dass to help her, and you do the same. See her laughing, see her healthy, see her doing yoga with no issues.--that's how things are up and down, so this practice is going to strengthen your will, your solar plexus. It's strong, but then we’ll have a long break.--at the END much love to you, SAT NAM. Are you okay to drive? Be careful driving now.--CLASS--doing breath of fire (kapalabhati) (leg scissors, leg lifts, arm lifts slapping the floor, sitting up batting the air with our arms, cobras up and down (worry about hurting back), inclined plank up and down, head to knees with legs lifted (neck hurts), lift up and down thumping bum on the floor (exhausted my arms); on back, on belly, legs lifted, arms lifted up and down--do the actions for 3-5 minutes without stopping, brief break between--"Big shifts are coming in the next 10 years, get ready for what's coming, strengthen your nervous system, and get ready for those shifts."--all the time music--recorded by hypnotic voices, kind of sappy sounding, kind of sweet, good voices very simple arrangements that you can get lost in not musically but energetically--did they supercharge the tracks with vibrations?? like delta waves etc?--I'm EXHAUSTED by the end, really feeling like I don't have the strength to go one and THEN we have to do 1 1/2 minutes of push ups!! I just do baby pushups and not too many--finally we get a long rest--13 minutes on our bellies. My neck is super tense from the abs work (lifting head to knees) and all the arm raises.--At first thoughts are all over the place from the over stimulation physically, then they calm down and I "see" an image of Bradford as a boy and I embrace him into my heart. Mind: why are you still caring about Bradford as a boy? He betrayed you. Don't continue to mother him. I have such a feeling of him--wonder what he really looked like at 5, how smart and vulnerable he must have been, how I wish I could comfort that hurt and confused part of him, how I feel like I could do that, wish I could help him, Where does this image, this feeling coming from?!? Then I'm angry and talking to him at Peter’s saying "You let yourself off the hook too easily," just like that sharply in front of everyone and walking out of the room. I don't like your self-indulgence, you hurt me carelessly, and I'm still not okay with it. I pull myself back from this fantasy==be in the NOW==turn my attention back to the music again feel energy from my sacrum rising up--how much I want sex, how long it's been, how much I miss the physical comfort of sleeping with someone, pull myself back from THAT and try to focus on the music which is happening now, but my heart is still spilling open---tears, snot running out, can't breathe bc nose is filling up with gooey liquid, forehead on hands. This Kundalini stuff made me drop into the pain that's STILL in my heart --about Bradford specifically, and love generally---I've been running away from the last bits of this pain by diving into work--it gets so silent in the room that I wonder if everyone has gone. All I hear is the music, but no longer feel the presence of other bodies. I feel so disoriented from the sudden wave of emotion that I wonder if I've missed an instruction? How long have I been lying here struggling with myself? How much time has passed? More snot and tears come, I decide I don’t have to look up, I'll hear the instruction when it comes, I turn my head one way and then the other, and the tears run both ways down my cheeks and a puddle of snot is forming on the floor,--Come up to sit feeling messy, chant to Ram Dass to offer up unfathomable obstacles to the mysterious workings of the universe and ask for help from nonlogical sources--she instructs us to think of people in our lives who need our help, people who are in our care, and send them our prayer, tears are streaming down my face now as I think of how much I want to care for people, also seeing everyone’s struggle--David, Marisa, Phoebe, Lizza, James, Steph, Michele, Frances--the anonymous woman in class who could not get up and was taken to the hospital--singing to Ram Dass (this is the "meditation" part of the class)(who is he?)--swaying our bodies and chanting along, she turns the music up to guide us--then praying for people, praying for selves, singing SAT NAM--then announcements: 7-day cleanse, also workshop on strengthening selves so no more insecurity "People say this and that, they can't do things, they don't know what to do, but I think NO ! That's not who you truly are. Be yourself, you are strong, be bold about yourself."--she's motherly, straightforward, older, except she's wearing a white turban with a jewel stuck in the front, and she’s talking to the young men leaving the class like they are her sons.
Yoga in LA, Part 2
Path to my AirBnB
Coffee Intensity on Abbot Kinney
Pretty LA
When I found out I had to go to LA for a quick work trip I started planning what yoga classes I could slip in.
I would take Annie Carpenter at Exhale as soon as I landed, and Vinnie Marino at Yoga Works right before I flew out. With filming all day Tuesday in Glendale, east of LA, and meetings on Wednesday, there wasn't going to be time for much more.
And so I went for the high notes: two yoga world big shots who both taught in an area of the yoga world that is sometimes called The Mothership: Venice and Santa Monica.
For the few days I was working, I was psyched anticipating Vinnie Marion's class at Yoga Works before I returned to New York. I knew he had become somewhat of a celebrity since I was last in LA, in 2008, so I checked the schedule obsessively to make sure he would actually be teaching on the Thursday morning I had available.
I spoke to Joni Yong, L.A.'s Accidental Yogist blogger, who said she'd join me there. She warned me to arrive early since Vinnie's classes---even at 80 people in a room, and one inch between mats---sell out.
"Get there thirty minutes before. And bring a towel. You are going to sweat, and Yoga Works doesn't rent towels.
"Duly warned.The next day, I was up at 6 and already strategizing how to handle Vinnie's class.
I couldn't reserve a spot online—the YWMain web site was not set up for that—and I didn't have a towel. I didn't want to eat too much before class. But more to the point, I didn't know where to eat.
My friendly AirBnB host pointed me to some coffee shops along Abbot Kinney and Main Street. That's how I ended up at Intelligentsia for an over-the-top experience of a latte.
It was just after 7am, and the glass and steel cafe, set back dramatically from the boutique-filled boulevard, had only 4 or 5 customers.
("I never go there," said my host, "The lines are out the door. And it's such a scene. But at this time you should be fine.")
I parked right out in front and walked up into the recessed space. The guy ahead of me paused at the threshold. "PLEASE WAIT HERE" said a sign, "Your friendly barista will be right with you."
"You have to wait?" I asked the guy. "Right here?"
"Yeah, it's weird isn't it?"
It felt like being summoned before the royal court.
For their roles as courtiers, the four baristas, men and women in their late 20s, wore ties of a hipster persuasion: short, or frayed, or exactly matching material, or tucked in between the buttons of their shirt. They had determined but relaxed expressions as if gracefully embarking on difficult and highly important diplomatic missions. They were ambassadors, we were foreigners, and coffee was the king.
My courtier, once I was called to the bar, looked like he could be a cinephile when he wasn't pouring milky drinks. He had that wiry look (and scrubby facial hair) of the very smart and hyper active. He complemented my necklace and named the metal. Then he disappeared and two young women took over.
Caffeinated, I remembered I needed a towel. So I asked the baristas where, at 7:30 am on a Thursday, could I buy something, anything, even a face cloth or a dish towel.
"I'm about to take a really sweaty yoga class." I said, "And I'm getting on a plane right after."
They paused their creative work mid stream. "I think there's a CVS down on Main Street, not far away," said the younger-looking one. "They should have dish towels."
I found the CVS. It did indeed have dishtowels. I bought a package of 3 for a mere $2.99. Things were going well. And I have to say that the latte was delicious. Milk counts as food, I thought. This smooth and creamy beverage can be breakfast.
It was now 8:30. I drove to Yoga Works and parked, proud to have found a spot (finding parking is an art that, as a car-less NYer, I needed more time to master). I was also way early, not my usual style.
Yoga Works is in a low building right on Main Street, with a small clothing boutique in the front and a lot of cubbyholes for shoes. The people waiting for class chatting comfortably with each other, like they might have known each other for a long time. They might have lived near the beach in Santa Monica for a long time, too. They were sunburned, fit, older, standing around with their mats rolled under their armpits.
"I'd like to take Vinnie's class," I told the fresh-faced woman behind the desk
.And then I heard the words I most didn't want to hear.
"Actually Vinnie is not teaching this morning."
Argh! I'd booked my flight around his class. I'd arranged my schedule just so I could be here. I'd even checked the schedule repeatedly. How could this be happening? "But the sub is someone he's handpicked to teach for him."
That might be true, I thought, but she wasn't Vinnie.
I noticed that Joni, a self-described short Asian woman, was not there among the students waiting to take class. Later—too late—I got her Tweet: "Just found out Vinnie's class is subbed out this am and I've never heard of the sub teacher..."
There would be no happy pictures of this New York yoga blogger and that LA yoga blogger chumming it up at Yoga Works Santa Monica. Not today.
I had a few minutes to decide what to do, but I was pretty much backed into a corner. Classes at nearby Exhale were starting in 5 minutes, but I didn't know those teachers, either. Plus, I'd wanted to have a total Mothership Experience, so if I abandoned Yoga Works now, my experience would be lopsided.
I decided to stay. The nice desk girl gave me a free mat. I went into the studio and sat on the large, golden-colored floor imagining it covered, mat to mat, with sweating and grunting yogis. The Hispanic-looking cleaning ladies, in smock vests, were busily Swiffering the floor and ventilating the room with multiple fans. If Vinnie had been teaching, I knew I'd be one of those puddles they were now mopping up. My arms were still shaky from the Kundalini class I'd taken the night before in Hollywood, and my abs were totally wrecked.
Vinnie’s sub taught a muscular class that began with a quick Rumi quote and a long abdominal sequence. We were 10 sweaty folks instead of the rumored 80. Shortly after, she was calling out big poses that I didn't feel ready for. The general tone of the class was 'push your body.'
Maybe because I'd already done a yoga class each day for the last 3 days, or maybe because the rumor is true that in New York, yoga is not as hard as in L.A., I wasn't into working on such a purely physical level.
And, I thought, it was probably just as well that Vinnie wasn't there. He might have driven me completely into the ground.
Towards the end, the sub asked us to do more abdominal work, 20-30 "reps" of boat-pose to half-boat-pose and back. Instead, I sat cross-legged on my mat. I didn't want to, even to make her feel okay about her difficult position of subbing for a yoga celebrity.
Disappointed, tired—and frustrated by my incomplete Mothership experience—I headed to the showers. I was thinking about my flight back, contemplating the differences between NY and LA, both culturally and yogically, as the water cooled me down. I got out, toweled my hair and wiped down my face, arms and shoulders. A woman from class was talking to me about the shower, was it warm enough, or cold enough, wasn't the temperature impossible to regulate? Were they going to fix it etc.
Half-listening, I looked back into the mirror I noticed my face was covered in pils of blue fluff. A slight blue tint was showing on my arms: the dishtowel was disintegrating on me. The more I wiped, the more the fluff appeared.
I switched to paper towel—but the fluff and the blue die was everywhere and I couldn't get it off me.
Naked, and a mess, I threw out all the towels and got back into the shower. This time, I wiped off with my dirty yoga clothes. It wasn't perfect. You know: their stretchy, wicking fabric is designed *not* to absorb water.
The best method, I realized, was to let the California air dry me. Maybe this is the updated version of letting it all hang out.
Yoga in LA, Part 1
Santa Monica has Yoga Works (Main Street) and Venice has Exhale Center for Sacred Movement, and between them they have Vinnie Marino, Sara Ivanhoe, Kathyrn Budig, Sarah Mato, Kia Miller, Sean Corn, Erich Schiffman, Shiva Rea, Annie Carpenter, Saul David Raye, and Hala Khouri. This is a phenomenal number of celebrity yoga teachers just a few miles apart.
In fact, I've heard people joke that if a bomb took out that 1 mile stretch between Venice and Santa Monica the American Yoga world would be significantly diminished. (Others don't think that would be such a bad thing.
No one is comfortable pairing "celebrity" with "yoga teacher" in public, although that doesn't stop thousands of new teachers secretly hope for a similar fame.)
I decided to start my LA yoga tour at Venice's Center for Sacred Movement.
I just landed in LA, picked up my white rental car, and drove to the beach. Well, I drove to the sand-colored, two story shopping complex that houses Exhale, among other shops and restaurants (including a sketchy CVS pharmacy, a Subway, and a nice-looking organic restaurant) parked underground, paid for my class, and took a walk.
I had interviewed the owner of RAWvolution, a raw foods restaurant, for a piece I wrote a few years ago, and knew it was in this general area, so I decided to check it out. The friendly Exhale desk folk assured me I could get there in 10 minutes, but at a leisurely jet-lagged pace it took me 20.
On the way, I passed cute boutiques selling loose white cotton shirts and dresses, Frye boots, and sun glasses. Familiar brands such as Free People, Patagonia, and American Apparel popped up here and there, and there were a number of “eco friendly” places such as the Natural High Lifestyle Shop, The Green Life, and One Life Natural Foods Market.
Plus, there were places that suggested everything that happened in this 10-block strip was carefully considered, including Mindfulness: Adornments for Your Home, Body & Soul, the Animal Wellness Centers, and the offices for Medicines Sans Frontieres.
There were plenty of coffee and teashops: I counted at least 8, and that didn't include what I glimpsed down the side streets. Not a lot of people were out mid-afternoon, but one guy I walked behind as he assessed the architecture of a bank with his buddy was wearing a standard issue LuluLemon jacket.
Once I got closer to Santa Monica, the loose and flowing clothing stores changed into edgier surf shops and skater supply stores. Younger boys in baggy pants starting appearing, as well as older, iconic buildings such as the Village Car Wash, and Surf Shore Motel, still very much in operation.
At last, I came across RAWvolution, a stone-floored cafe with comfortably mismatched tables and chairs and a big kitchen at the back where the foods were dehydrated and prepared. Everyone working there seemed extremely happy in his or her choice of employment, and everything there was expensive.
I had decided, as a special treat, I would indulge my fondness for kale chips no matter how much they cost. I just suspended all judgment as I handed over $7 for the 2 oz, the size of a small bag of potato chips (that in NYC go for $1.50).
With the help of the milk-skinned staff, I also decided to have a shake---something I could digest quickly before class. The Chai Milk Shake with coconut water, chai spices, almond milk and cinnamon would be too sweet, they told me, and so instead I ordered the Aztec Maca Shake: a low-sugar drink, said the menu. It had cacao, maca powder, coconut meat, coconut water, and mesquite. Maca was a Peruvian root that could boost dragging energy.
"Are you a raw foodist?" asked the wide-eyed guy with the thick bowl haircut behind the counter.
"No, just in town and wanted to check out your place."
"For work?" He asked, and I wondered if that meant I look old.
"Are you a yogi?"
"Yeah," I smiled. Yogi undercover."
“And you work out, you're into fitness?" He asked and I wondered if I looked buff to him, or just skinny.
"No, just a yogi," I smiled.
He looked hopeful for more conversation. I had the feeling he wanted me to tell him something extraordinary, like how I was raised by raw foodists on a remote island long before anyone had heard of raw food, or how I'd had a vision at the age of 3 and knew that I would never eat meat or cooked foods again.
Alas, I am just a curious but confirmed skeptic.
And, ironically, around the time I'd interviewed Matt Amsden, the founder of RAWvolution, I'd had such intense —and regular—stomach pain that I could *only* eat cooked food. Everything raw hurt me. For his part, Amsden admitted that he had just kicked his addiction to Doritos.
I sat at the communal table. In the middle had once been a bouquet of spring flowers, but they were now very dead, stems drooping, and the water mildewy.
Nearby was a deck of cards to accompany the popular New Age book by Don Miguel Ruiz, The Four Agreements.
Around the cafe a few people were reading, a couple of friends were playing cards, others were working at their laptops.
Distracted, I picked up the top card of the deck. It said, "stay in the present moment." That must mean stop making so many judgments. Because as much as I wanted to like the Aztec Maca Shake it was unpleasantly thick, kind of gravelly in texture, and so free of sugar that it tasted almost bitter.
It also had an unappealing near-chocolate color. "Carob brown," I thought. It tasted "good for you."
Still, it cost $7.50 so I intended to drink it all.
As I sipped, I glanced around. The walls were hung with framed prints of monks in orange robes and Acro Yogis in partner poses, set again a brilliant blue background. Someone had touched up photographs so that the figures looked smudged and lively, like they were still moving. Robert Storman was the mixed media artist, I read from text on the wall, and his bio said he was the "official artist of 2005's 47th Annual Grammy Awards" and that he's created a "body of work celebrating asana and soul."
I was officially in L.A. now.
+ + +
"Namaste, yogis!" said Annie, a former dancer, walking off the stage in Exhale's large Sun Room. "Tonight we're going to do forward bends."
Great, I thought. That will totally pacify my nervous system after a long flight and all the work it took to make this trip happen.
The practice space at Exhale has a seasoned wood floor and a wall of glass brick facing Main Street. The side door was open while students filed in, and a pleasant early-evening breeze—and childrens' voices—wafted in, bringing a promise of long lazy summer evenings ahead.
Once we got going, I realized I was being too literal, thinking "forward bending" meant "seated poses."
What Annie meant was deep hip flexion: all those calming forward bends were happening in standing poses. And to do those, we released hamstrings and hip flexors—which after sitting and frowning over manuscript on the plane for 5 hours, were pretty tight on me.
As a former dance mistress, Annie's instructions were all business, and she held us in the poses FOREVER.
"I know, I know," she said, "I did this myself earlier today, just a few more breaths."
And for the first time in a good long while, I broke a sweat in a very slow and precise, alignment-oriented class. It was uber satisfying to feel my scattered, whiny mind focused, and my jet lag shift under the pressure of my concentration.
The class was deep and quiet, but *big,* with 40 or 50 people in it, very few men, and lots of 30s-40s age women with long brown hair.
Annie herself was a dynamo—insightful, thorough, fun—though so skinny that a few times I found myself wanting to feed her a heaping bowl of ice cream.
Maybe because she gave such super subtle and detailed instructions, at one point found myself much deeper into a standing forward bend than usual. Or maybe it was her adjustments. Somehow, in such a big class, she managed to make it over to me once or twice.
In cool down poses my mind was literally blank, and in savasana totally silent. Yum.
I left wondering why the alignment-oriented classes in New York have to leave me feeling like I still need a workout. Annie had worked me well.
After, I still had some kale chips left from my earlier snack. I could've eaten the whole bag on the spot.
In fact, the only thing that stopped me was that 3/4 of the bag were crumbs and hard to eat without spilling them all over myself. I waited to do that later in the privacy of my car.
When I did, I got crumbs all over myself and the car. I thanked the pros at Avis—in my mind— for vacuuming up the sea of small green flecks that decorated the seats and the parking brake.
Core Power Yoga: Part 2, The Hustle in Denver
The Hustle in Denver: Continued from Tuesday....
“For our annual review,” he said, “we have to give a private yoga class to a senior instructor. Okay. Seems doable, right?”
Only when his day came, this senior instructor turned out to be a nationally recognized yoga teacher, a big name, a celebrity.
“So you know,” he said grinning, “He was pretending not to listen and I was correcting him and stuff. It was just weird. Right? But you never know what curve-ball life is going to throw you."
Who was the teacher? What did Andy do? What was the feedback? I was dying to know. Someone in the class asked.
"Nope, not telling!" said Andy. "He gave me some good feedback that I've incorporated into my teaching today so here we go!”
Like so many yoga class pre-ambles, Andy's didn't quite connect the dots. Andy opened with a sequence of slow sun salutations to upbeat disco-y club music. It reminded me of Miami--super positive mixed with aerobics.
“C'mon people, let's move it.”
Thump-a-thump-a-thump-a-thump went the music. We cycled through the sun salutation sequence more quickly now, then held awkward pose and twisted. He adjusted me.
“Lift your thoracic spine!”
I noticed most of the students seemed to have had some good basic training. The two guys behind me were struggling--sweating and sliding and looking around. But most of the women were adjusting themselves as they needed, not pushing themselves into contortions out of their range. The women next to be chose to do all the hardest variations of many poses, but even so there wasn't too much of a show-offy vibe in the room. The practice seemed safe.
Huh, I thought. This is the formula, and it's kind of brilliant. A one-hour class (low commitment, low impact on your day), hot enough (gets you sweating so you quickly feel like you're working out), teaches safe alignment (so people don't get hurt), and just a little bit of dharma talk (how this applies to your daily life) with –oh no!--not the dreaded--It was true: ab work. Right, I thought, it's called “core” power yoga. I never liked working my abs, beginning as far back as grade school.
“Lift your elbow up to your knee! Hold! Switch! Hold! Switch! Now scissor kicks one minute! Go!”
Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch. Agony. Yet was this part of the appeal to my sweating class mates? You get to do yoga AND do the hard work of the gym, all in one place?Andy stopped us to demo crow pose, an arm balance. Then he demo-d one legged crow. Then he demo-d no-legged crow.
“So when life throws you a curveball,” he grinned, “you just gotta go with it, do your best.”
That was fine, but he gave no hints about how no-legged crow might be possible for us without abs of steel.
“Look at me!” he said, giving a second demo. “Use your core!”
I stuck with two-legged crow.Now thoroughly dripping with sweat we continued on with more standing poses, some backbends, a few twists, a shoulderstand. The music continued pumping. Everything was soaked. My hair dripped like a garden of wet snakes. The thin material of my pants was almost transparent. My face, red. Final relaxation was brief. I had just begun to relax when Andy started talking again. Another “jai!” with a floor slap and the class was over.
“Okay guys thanks a lot, have a great weekend!” Andy grinned, “And we have an inversions intensive coming up at our Cherry Hill location this weekend, also a level 2 training you guys should all do it, as well as more classes with me coming up! Thanks guys!”
I took myself to a shower in the women's changing room which was like a mini gym/spa mix. Three shower stalls with large plastic pumps of soap and shampoo, similar to a gym. The black stones inset into the floor (like a mat in front of each shower) had a spa-like quality to them. And for once I didn't mind the industrial-grade lotions: I had to be clean; I was meeting people for dinner. This was very convenient. And like any busy business person, I was already multi-tasking on my way out of the studio. I paid for my class while talking on the phone. I was signing my credit card receipt while negotiating: Could I be there in 10 minutes? In 5? Where was the restaurant? Could you, I asked Andy, call me a cab? How do you get a cab in this town? I hadn't seen any on the streets. Susan, text me when you know the address. Andy, yes I need one with a credit card machine. Oh, thanks for my card back. Yes, thank you so much for your help. Susan, see you in 10.
No one was left in the studio by this time with its little boutique and posters for trainings, boot camps, more classes, more workshops. In my purist yoga-loving heart I knew what I was doing—multi-tasking and not being very present-- was annoying and a big yoga no-no. But as a business person at that moment, it made sense, it was what I had to do.And in that moment, Core Power Yoga made total sense. I didn't have much time, I had a lot of things to juggle, I wasn't thinking straight, I was barely coordinating the elements of my life right. Core Power delivered all that I needed in a very manageable chunk, and I fit right in.
The Hustle in Denver: Core Power Yoga
With one minute to go til class, I was still at the check-in desk.
“Is there any way I can do any of this after class?” I asked the guy checking me in, “I don't want to be late.” Not to worry, the teacher, a smiley blond guy in a grey sleeveless T-shirt was still there, too, admiring a student's mala beads.
It had taken me 30 minutes, walking in a tight skirt and cork heels to get from the conference center where I was working a giant, anxiety-filled book fair, to the Grant Street location of Core Power Yoga. I'd first heard about Core Power from an instructor at Pure Yoga in New York, who was originally from Chicago.
“They're all over the Mid-West and southeast,” he'd assured me. “They're bigger than Yoga Works by far.”
News to me. I live in New York. I only sometimes get to the west coast and almost never to the middle of the country. I heard about them again while interviewing the entrepreneurial maverick and former owner of Sonic Yoga, Jonathan Fields.
“They more than anyone have really mastered the business model for yoga franchises,” he said admiringly.
The words “yoga” and “franchise” together made some people’s lips curl in mistrust. But I was curious. What made this place work? When a work trip came up to Denver, I knew I had to check them out. At the last minute, the trip was cut from 3 days to 2, so I also knew it wasn't going to be easy to get there.
Map in hand, I ducked out of the freezing, artificial air of the vast conference center and marched—well, more like hobbled—over to the studio. The darn skirt had gotten compliments at the book fair but slowed me down (and gave the backs of my thighs a kind of rug burn) on Denver's wide streets. There was no striding in that skirt. And time, too, was tight. Finally arriving, I felt like the little engine that could. I think I can I think I can, I know I can I know I can. I did! I did! I did a speed-change in New York style—30 seconds, in, out, done—and found a spot in the large, low room (that was frayed around the edges; the silvery ceiling needed a paint job).
It was heated, but not to Bikram levels—thank goodness. I don’t like to tremble and shake, slipping and sliding in yoga class. Denver, the mile-high city, at 5,000 feet above sea level is not only oxygen poor, it is extremely dry. The heat—and sweat—felt good. It was also a nice change after the crisp mountain air outside. Three rows of students faced a long mirror. The instructor in the grey t-shirt was a cheerleading soul named Andy.
“Okay guys, I'm going to chant in Sanskrit,” he said smiling, “then you slap your hands down on the floor and yell “Jai!” (victory). Okay?”
He chanted the chant, we slapped the floor. Then he told a story....
To be continued on Thursday....
Costa Rica Yoga Bliss.... part 2
group pier squint
chill axing2
gunn at botanical gdn
yoga w Steph
swimming2
hibiscus1
Part 2: Some Impressions from our Costa Rica Yoga Retreat, Feb 26 - March 5.
Here in the jungle, we're constantly adjusting to the temperature, the abundance of oxygen, to being in yet another yoga class. With a class at 6:30 am and another at 4 pm, muscles are lengthening, joints lubricating, breath coming more an more easily. When we arrived, people's faces were tight and drawn, tired from travel but also tired from the responsibilities of work and daily life. After a few days people’s faces begin to look relaxed and then something magical starts to happen. Their faces start to glow, they start to look younger, more open, and more enthusiastic about the smallest things--a delicious taste, a warm breeze, an interesting thought. To me, this is evidence of prana, the life force that gives vitality, rising and flourishing, bringing clarity to the skin, friendliness to dispositions and peace to people’s minds.
As the stress of city life washes off it's easy to see the toll it takes---bad sleep, rough digestion, low energy and poor mental functioning. In the jungle, we're just a short walk from balmy tropical waters. We lounge in a luxurious lodge built from local materials and staffed by local characters, some of whom have been walking this jungle their whole lives. Slowed down, with relaxation a part of our daily routine, we begin to feel the spark of life pulsing again, that unexstinguished flame flare up more brightly. And at the same time, immersed in teeming wilderness, we see ourselves in the context of all life, the constant movement and change of all natural forms. Our hikes in the jungle show us snakes, spiders, monkeys, pixotes (a racoon-like animal with a long tail), pecaries (stinky wild pigs), and huge gloriously blue morpho butterflies. Life is all around whether or not we check our email, return phone calls, ride subways, acquire or lose status or money, no matter who we know or are related to.
This is a visceral yoga lesson. Prana has many expressions---animal, vegetable, mineral, cognating, non-cognating---and a fierce intelligence. Nature, the material world, is more than just how much we weigh, how we style our hair, how we look in our yoga pants, how flexible we are, what we do, what we own. Consciousness is sometimes valued higher than nature, but here it’s impossible to ignore nature’s power. Aside from the annoyance of bug bites (mosquitoes, black flies, no-see-ums etc) this nature is marvelous: fecund, generous, majestic, strong, eye-opening.It makes us revel in our own nature. And as Mr. Iyengar says, we notice, attend to, and love the body, as we would care for a child. It is a vehicle to all knowledge. At the end of morning yoga practice, we have a sweet final relaxation serenaded by the tide going out, cooing mourning doves, seeds dropping on the clear roof over the deck, the low rumbling of nearby howler monkeys.
Back at the lodge, we breakfast on eggs, pancakes, fruit sauce, fresh juices (mango, sour-sop, tamarind, orange, pineapple etc), tortillas, tomato slices with fresh cheese, and of course lots of fruit. Then it’s time to decide on the rest of the morning’s activities---a quick sweaty hike up to a platform that overlooks our cove? A cooling swim? Both? A tour of the botanical garden a short kayak away? A knowledgeable guide will take us and tell us more and more and more interesting things about this incredible place we have landed in.We can also just take an hour or two on the seaside lounge chair under the almond tree chatting with whoever happens to be there--hanging out can also feel like a real indulgence. We're here for a week. No electricity, no phone, no money, no shops, no roads, nothing but yoga, the lodge, the jungle, the sea and the elements, the staff and each other. The rhythm of our days is simple and sweet, a luxury we all need.
This is what I wish I could give all my students--not to mention friends and family. Life pared down to extremely simple is what we're dying for. Beauty mixed with simplicity--and relaxation mixed with asana, meditation, and breathing--helps connect us to ourselves, see us in context of the greater life. It helps us remember who we truly are, and what it is that really matters.
Costa Rica Yoga Bliss....mmmmm....part 1
Meditation & "True Love": Musings for V-Day
I'm delighted to have a personal essay up today on the online magazine YourTango.com, "smart talk about love." It's a new venue for me---and a new genre. Soul baring!Well, soul baring with a purpose. I use a story of my own heartache to talk about a powerful meditation practice. For me, this is also a writerly experiment: the personal essay is a form I've long admired. Also, I've been trying to reveal more of myself in my teaching as a way to engage students and avoid setting myself up as an untouchable authority. After all, I am very human.Your Tango is a relationship-focused magazine, so while you're there you can also read why bad relationships are a waste of time, or watch a video of Valentine's Day cards we wished existed.My piece is How Meditation Lead Me to True Love, on the home page, and in it I tell you how, for me, meditation and love are related. Let me know what you think!Had any similar experiences?
Big Success in Albany! But pressure still on
This just in! From Yoga for New York action committee:"Success! Terrific Success! The vote in the NYS Senate Higher Education Committee was a unanimous "YES" in support of S5701A - protecting yoga teacher training from burdensome and unnecessary government regulation and licensing.
Now what? More Committees to get through (remember in school learning about how a bill becomes a law - were are in it!!) --- yup democracy requires a lot of work - we will keep you posted, of course, as working collaboratively on this is how we protect yoga!
What must we do now to keep the heat on? * Please Call Senator Carl Kruger, the Chair of the NYS Senate Finance Committee, the next Committee the bill is before @ (518) 455-2460* You will be connected to a representative of Senator Kruger who will take your message for the Senator.
Here’s the message script:
"My name is _________________ I am calling Senator Kruger because he is the Chair of the Finance Committee. I urge his support for S.5701A which will protect yoga teacher training from burdensome government regulations, unfunded expenses on local government and ensure that yoga studios stay in business. Thank you"
What else do we need?
Very important: funding and donations to make sure the hard work in the State's capital continues. Want to know how to donate or ideas for raising funds? Email action@yogaforny.org
Do Yoga in Costa Rica! With Me!
Costa Rica 2010
Yes, it's true---I'm leading a yoga retreat to Costa Rica. This is the third year that my co-teacher, Stephanie Sandleben and I will fly down to the Osa Peninsula for a week of jungle heat and yummy asana, February 26 - March 5, 2010. Playa Nicuesa Rainforest Lodge is our host---a fabulous eco-lodge on the secluded eastern shore of the Golfo Dulce. What does that mean? It means after flying down from San Jose in a prop plane, we are picked up in an outboard motor-boat and whisked 30 minutes across the gulf to a beautifully renovated cocoa farm---in the middle of nowhere.
There's nothing around---no roads, no shops, and not even very much cell phone or Internet reception. It's a blessing to get off the grid so profoundly.What is around are amazing jungle creatures---monkeys, sloths, dolphins, turtles, alligators, ant eaters, toucans, macaws---fabulous plants and flowers. Ever seen a pineapple growing in the wild? Or smelled ylang ylang in bloom? Or squeezed a shampoo ginger? We do two yoga classes a day, and the rest of the time we do whatever we feel like---go hiking, swimming, kayaking, or we talk to the naturalists, take naps and read. Not only is the food locally grown and caught, the entire lodge is made of recycled materials and the owners are constantly looking for ways to reduce their impact on the ecology and increase the well-being of their environment.It's a great vacation---an excellent way to unwind from city life---and it's a great way to deepen your practice!
For more information, see http://samatreats.blogspot.com or write to samatreats (at) gmail (dot) com.
Sweat for Haiti: January 27
Off the Mat Haiti
Haven't contributed to Haiti relief yet? Never fear: get yourself to a participating yoga studio on Weds, January 27 (tomorrow!) and let your practice contribute to the cause.
Yoga and activist organization "Off the Mat, Into the World" spearheaded by Seane Corn and friends, is getting studios to donate proceeds to relief funds in an effort called "Yogis for Haiti Day." In NYC, Kula Yoga Project will donate half of its daily income to Yogis for Haiti tomorrow. Take a class and you will be helping out. Plus, their classes are great and their teachers are inspired human beings (so if you don't know the studio, get yer butt down there). CityYoga in LA is also participating as, I'm sure are a lot of studios. Is yours? Find out!!
(Studios that want to participate should contact kerri@kerrikellyyoga.org)
Know a studio that's participating? Add it in the comments and I will post it! The list so far:889 YongeAha YogaAhimsa Yoga Apple YogaAt One YogaBend YogaBend and Bloom YogaBodacious Living YogaCity YogaCity Yoga LADe La Sol Yoga StudiosEyes of the World YogaIntegral Yoga Institute - San FranciscoKansas Siddhi YogaKula Yoga ProjectLife Yoga GoulburnLila YoginiMindful Movement CentreOm TimeQuinnipiac Fitness CenterSanctuary for Yoga, Body & SpiritShanti Yoga ShalaSolar YogaStudio 330The University of the ArtsWest Hartford YogaWillow Glen YogaYoga KulaYoga Mandala StudioYoga Source - Palo AltoYoga Tree Yogaphoria(from Off the Matt, Into the World)
Benefits beyond Jan 27:Dancing Dogs Yoga in Beaufort, South Carolina will have our grand opening on Saturday, February 27, 2010 with Hatha for Haiti. Shanti Yoga- Nelson, BC Canada, hosts 2 more Community Yoga Fundraisers for Haiti, Saturdays from 2-4pm. shantiyoga.ca for details.
OM Yoga of NYC (not part of OTM, but still) raised $700 last Saturday!
NYTimes Revisits Yoga + Chocolate Issue
The whole luxury food items + yoga issue broke a couple of years ago---and was controversial then. Today, the NYTimes Dining section revisits the concept. Spearheaded by Dave Rominelli, Yoga + Chocolate is supposed to unite two great tastes that taste great together, heightening our sense of sensuality and our enjoyment of asana practice. When I took his workshop last year at Exhale in Manhattan, it wasn't chocolate that we were enjoying, but cheese. A little plate of fromage appeared at the top of my yoga mat after savasana.
Some of the cheese was artisinal, but most was from Whole Foods.
Yoga is a Religion? Right?
Yoga is a religion---at least according 57% of non-yoga-ing Americans polled by the Yoga Alliance last Saturday, Yoga Day USA. The (semi-)regulatory organization was gathering Americans' opinion of the sport (?) to see what stops more people from trying it out.According to its press release, inspite of the ubiquitousness of this multi-billion dollar industry that's firmly routed in the material ($$) world, many people still think of it as New Age or only for the very nimble. (Sometimes it seems that way, depending on what center you go to and what style you practice...)
"there are many Americans who know little about yoga or, worse, have incorrect assumptions which inhibit them from participation. The three most common misperceptions are that yoga:
Is religion-based. 57% of those who do not currently practice yoga believe that it requires mantras or chanting related to a form of worship.
Requires flexibility in order to practice. Nearly 3 in 5 Americans – 59% of respondents - who do not practice yoga think that it requires a person to be in at least "decent" shape. In truth, however, anyone – of any size, shape or physical state – can benefit.
Is not really exercise. Half of men who have never practiced yoga believe it "isn't a workout." In contrast, 73% of people who do practice believe it is just as effective as running, swimming or weight lifting.
All events are free on Yoga Day USA which is sponsored by the Yoga Alliance. Attitude adjustment might cost extra---maybe as much as a monthly membership to a local center.
Drawing Yoga--Special Workshop this Saturday
Sponsored by the awesome Yoga City NYC:
This Saturday, senior Iyengar yoga teacher Bobby Clennell will lead a unique yoga class. You won't do any asana or pranayama---in fact, you'll have a sketch pad and a pencil. Yes, you'll be drawing yoga. From 1:30 - 4pm, Clennell, who is also a talented illustrator, will lead students to "see" yoga poses in a different way---by drawing models as they make the poses. No drawing experience necessary. Just bring your desire to read the essence of yoga poses in a new way.
Read an interview with Bobby Clennell as she talks about the concept.
Saturday, January 16, 20101:30 - 4:00pmOm Factory
265 West 37th Street, 17th Floor
Save the Date: Yoga Benefit & Silent Auction, Jan 21
This is no ordinary benefit. If you are going to donate to any cause this winter, this is the one. Protect yoga from state mandates! January 21---cocktails, hor d'ouevres, and silent auction at Chibo (info below). Save the date.Yoga for New York, a non-profit formed last summer to prevent state government regulation of yoga, needs to raise $25,000. That's a lot of cash. YFNY needs to hire a lobbyist to help pass legislation early this year that will help protect yoga from being defined by government officials who don't know anything about the practice.
Protect your practice! Protect your local studio.
Read more---and get the latest scoop on the issue---at Yoga City NYC.
Most of all, save the date:
Thursday, January 21stWhere: Cibo Restaurant
Location: 767 2nd Ave. at 41st Street
When: January 21, 2010
TIme: 6:30PM-8:30PM
Tickets: $100 in advance, $125 at the door.
*Teachers will receive a special entry rate of $75 if paid before January 18th, 2010.
Silent Auction items include
a weeklong stay at a Villa in Southern Italy
a yoga retreat weekend at The Ananda Ashram
dinner for two in the Theater District with actor/singer Dominic Chianese
and much more!
Register at www.yogaforny.org/events Download invitation: Invite YFNY Jan Benefit