Learning to Pause
The Yoga Journal blog contest ends today. I thought that it ended at 11:59 PM on February 28, 2010. When I went to check the "Rules" on the Yoga Journal website at 1:15 PM MST on February 28, 2010, I found the webpage blank. The page entitled "Enter to Win" was also not available for use.
Did I misread the expiration of the contest time or has the computer prematurely stopped accepting applications? By my calculation from any time zone in the United States, I should still be able to apply if I recall the rules correctly. Dear Yoga Journal: Please clarify.
As I also recall the "Rules", one is supposed to have maintained their blog for at least 2 weeks with 2 or 3 entries per week. I remember reading something about a minimum of 250 words. The contest "Rules" page was unavailable. Straight up: blank pages.
I understand the desire for discipline. In fact, I understand it is truly the only way. But sometimes, the heart has only so much to say. Requiring more words within certain time restraints seems the opposite to a correct approach. Isn't the answer ususally "Simplify"? I suppose this wouldn't make a very good yoga blog. One word on each blog entry. "Simplify" one week. "Breathe" the next. "Om" the third. But is there really anything else to say?
I'm attempting to learn to pause....which requires...for me....space.....space for my thoughts.....space in my breath.....and.....ultimately....space for the recent past blog entries...along with an internal vow to practice "discipline" in all aspects of my life....so long as my heart is free.
I hope that I'm not too late to enter the contest. Thank you for your consideration.
Karen
Footnote: The contest was extended until 11:59 PM on March 3, 2010 due to a computer glitch. The 250 word count rule was with regards to the "Blog Description" as part of the entry application and with regards to future blog entries if a participant's blog is selected.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Whew.
The earth heard our collective prayer to take it easy on Hawaii. Everyone can take a deep breath and maybe get some sleep now that the darn sirens have been turned off all around the island. Every isle dog is eternally grateful that this highly effective high-pitched alarm system has now been set to rest.
Our alarms seem to be up. The full moon has some of us flying. Like the winds of spring, come the whirlwinds of thoughts of beginnings. The beginnings of an age old cycle, where the turning of the Earth coincides with our latitudinal movement turned towards the light. A Blustery birth of Warmth, of the promise of blooming flowers, young couples in love, a cycle of new energy. Fiery, fierce, passionate.
To quell all this action within myself, I find myself craving restorative poses including chest openers of all kinds--restful and held for a long time. Then I lean towards gentle forward bends and Halasana or supported Karnapindasana followed by a long Savasana that is well-supported and restful.
As I find the best possible balance in my spine and in my breath, I observe. I adjust. I breath. I look for that spaciousness within. Where am I constricted and why? What can I do to create more freedom, more strength, more quiet, more breath?
Can my breath become my chant? Can my breath become my “om”? Is there a rhythm there? Can I recognize the rhythm of the breath while maintaining a deep body relaxation that does not include collapse? Can I be still, quiet, strong and free?
Our alarms seem to be up. The full moon has some of us flying. Like the winds of spring, come the whirlwinds of thoughts of beginnings. The beginnings of an age old cycle, where the turning of the Earth coincides with our latitudinal movement turned towards the light. A Blustery birth of Warmth, of the promise of blooming flowers, young couples in love, a cycle of new energy. Fiery, fierce, passionate.
To quell all this action within myself, I find myself craving restorative poses including chest openers of all kinds--restful and held for a long time. Then I lean towards gentle forward bends and Halasana or supported Karnapindasana followed by a long Savasana that is well-supported and restful.
As I find the best possible balance in my spine and in my breath, I observe. I adjust. I breath. I look for that spaciousness within. Where am I constricted and why? What can I do to create more freedom, more strength, more quiet, more breath?
Can my breath become my chant? Can my breath become my “om”? Is there a rhythm there? Can I recognize the rhythm of the breath while maintaining a deep body relaxation that does not include collapse? Can I be still, quiet, strong and free?
Earthquakes
Here is a first hand impression.....and the expected tsunami approaching Hawaii.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OKyTgvxSaS0
May the waters of the Earth be gentle upon the shores of Hawaii and the tremors of the Earth be quiet upon our brothers and sisters in Chile.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OKyTgvxSaS0
May the waters of the Earth be gentle upon the shores of Hawaii and the tremors of the Earth be quiet upon our brothers and sisters in Chile.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Mud Bike
The first signs of spring are upon us. In Northern New Mexico, during a wet snow year, this means that nearly all of dirt roads, biking and hiking trails downstream of anything will be muddy! So I dawned my thrift store white north face pants, with a red bicycle helmet that my aunt gave me, with a pashmina scarf from India, and a lavender shell jacket over a yellow cashmere sweater. My feet were clad with Maroon Uggs and I even had the serious bicycler grippy gloves with no fingers. Looking like a stylish white (and lavender) storm trooper, I was ready for my short bike ride in the mud.
During these times of the year, my driveway becomes an off-road adventure no matter what kind of vehicle you’re using. There are huge mounds of mud in all directions and several small lakes of all sizes and depths to navigate through, including the double lake with a huge double bump in the middle of it sticking out of the water as you hit the ninety degree turn. In the Honda Civic Red Hatchback that I drive, I have nearly mastered the course--though it did cost me one set of CV-joints. On the bicycle however, a totally different tale emerges. To head straight for the big mounds of mud to peddle through them, with the strength of Warrior knees (Virabhadrasana I, II and III) is real joy: a kind of riding of a wave--daring and dangerous. I do realize that this is a reflection of my entire existence. It’s fun to head for the unknown with a sense of adventure and, yes--sometimes recklessly, though I know I’d be much better off if I stopped it.
I take a deep breath as I veer the bike to the smoother part of the path and every once in while, I glide the bike near the edges of the different puddles to wash the mud off my wheels. After all, my approach is my choice.
During these times of the year, my driveway becomes an off-road adventure no matter what kind of vehicle you’re using. There are huge mounds of mud in all directions and several small lakes of all sizes and depths to navigate through, including the double lake with a huge double bump in the middle of it sticking out of the water as you hit the ninety degree turn. In the Honda Civic Red Hatchback that I drive, I have nearly mastered the course--though it did cost me one set of CV-joints. On the bicycle however, a totally different tale emerges. To head straight for the big mounds of mud to peddle through them, with the strength of Warrior knees (Virabhadrasana I, II and III) is real joy: a kind of riding of a wave--daring and dangerous. I do realize that this is a reflection of my entire existence. It’s fun to head for the unknown with a sense of adventure and, yes--sometimes recklessly, though I know I’d be much better off if I stopped it.
I take a deep breath as I veer the bike to the smoother part of the path and every once in while, I glide the bike near the edges of the different puddles to wash the mud off my wheels. After all, my approach is my choice.
Coffee Shop Moments
The Aztec, my favorite coffee shop in Santa Fe, is a quaintly, artistic, a-little-bit organic, locally-owned tea, coffee and bagel shop. Surrounding the outside brown adobe walls, the purple and red trim that your kindergarten teacher might use in a classroom display greets you with a smile. An extra large hand-painted cappuccino mug hangs over the entry door as if to say "Hello. Please caffeinate." One generally stands in line to order your selection of the day at the counter full of gluten-packed cookies, cakes, breakfast burritos and a few token green bananas. You get the picture.
I'm not much of a coffee drinker---I tend to like it with loads of milk and---ok, I'll admit it--brown sugar. I don't even really like the coffee part: usually, I ask them to put in a 1/3 of the coffee they might otherwise use. It's all about the sugar really. My suspicion is it's those little bad intestinal bacteria that hitched a ride from India, who are yelling from the depths of my belly at the top of their little voices, "Yes! Get the Coffee!!!! Sugar! Sugar! Sugar!" Or it could be the sugar addiction that I was probably born with and systematically struggle with. There I said it. Admitting it is the first part of recovery, right?
So: should I succumb to the coffee urge or try to train the new counterperson on how to make the mate latte with soy milk that I prefer (and yes, this one has a bit of honey)? It's a hit or miss scenario with the new people and when there is a line behind me; I hesitate to have them remake it when they screw it up. Translated this means that there is a 50/50 chance that I will be left with a $4 undrinkable morning beverage. It's a toss up.
As I look around the room at the familiar faces and offbeat artwork hanging randomly from the walls, I pause.
I take a deep breath.
I smell the coffee.
I hear the Beatles singing:
Try to realize it's all within yourself
No-one else can make you change
I take another deep breath.
It's my turn. I order a mint tea without sugar or honey. One deep breath at a time.
A painting of the Aztec by local artist Jared Gillett
I'm not much of a coffee drinker---I tend to like it with loads of milk and---ok, I'll admit it--brown sugar. I don't even really like the coffee part: usually, I ask them to put in a 1/3 of the coffee they might otherwise use. It's all about the sugar really. My suspicion is it's those little bad intestinal bacteria that hitched a ride from India, who are yelling from the depths of my belly at the top of their little voices, "Yes! Get the Coffee!!!! Sugar! Sugar! Sugar!" Or it could be the sugar addiction that I was probably born with and systematically struggle with. There I said it. Admitting it is the first part of recovery, right?
So: should I succumb to the coffee urge or try to train the new counterperson on how to make the mate latte with soy milk that I prefer (and yes, this one has a bit of honey)? It's a hit or miss scenario with the new people and when there is a line behind me; I hesitate to have them remake it when they screw it up. Translated this means that there is a 50/50 chance that I will be left with a $4 undrinkable morning beverage. It's a toss up.
As I look around the room at the familiar faces and offbeat artwork hanging randomly from the walls, I pause.
I take a deep breath.
I smell the coffee.
I hear the Beatles singing:
Try to realize it's all within yourself
No-one else can make you change
I take another deep breath.
It's my turn. I order a mint tea without sugar or honey. One deep breath at a time.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Max Cat
I cat sit for a friend of mine sometimes when she is out of town for this wonderful cat named Max. I like to call him Max Cat. For some years now, Max Cat has been a reliable date for most holidays. He shows up to Christmas on time, on New Year's Eve he's ready to party (we play squeaky mouse with my hand being the mouse) and on Valentine's Day, there is no better lover. He'll put his little paw on my face and stare into my eyes with his crystal clear blue eyes as if to say, "I love you". And yes, for those of you that are wondering, I do occasionally ask myself the legitimacy of being in Love with someone else's cat. Oh, but how can you resist his face? Clearly, he is a handsome devil......
At one of these times, when we were deeply gazing into each other's eyes, I learned a very important lesson from Max Cat. I've read it before. I've maybe even thought about it in some kind of convoluted way, but Max has made this very clear to me: there are only two real emotions in life--love and fear. All other emotions stem from these. Anger? Usually fear of loss or lack of love. Sadness? Same. Joy? Stems from love. You can name the entire spectrum of human emotion and Max thinks that they all boil down to love and fear, which is not so different from what Patanjali has to say on the matter in the yoga sutras. All human suffering, Patanjali states, boils down to Avidya, which is commonly translated as a lack of knowledge of God (and I use this word loosely). I like to think that "God" is defined as the Energy pervading every entity and non-entity in the Universe. It's the space stuff and the lack of space stuff all at the same time. It's the vibes, the waves, everything. When we forget that this energy is love or we fear a loss of this energy, our downward spiral into egotism (asmita), attachments (raga), aversions (dvesa) and fear of death (abhinivesa) begin. The good news is that this energy is really with us all the time. It is us. We are it. To quote the Emily Dickinson, "love is all there is."
May we all learn from Max. He's a pretty mellow cat. His only real fear is being left out in the snow for more than about two minutes and, well, he gets pretty talkative when he's hungry and his cat bowl is empty. Other than that, he sends out love vibes all the time even as he snoozes in the sun on his cat bed.
At one of these times, when we were deeply gazing into each other's eyes, I learned a very important lesson from Max Cat. I've read it before. I've maybe even thought about it in some kind of convoluted way, but Max has made this very clear to me: there are only two real emotions in life--love and fear. All other emotions stem from these. Anger? Usually fear of loss or lack of love. Sadness? Same. Joy? Stems from love. You can name the entire spectrum of human emotion and Max thinks that they all boil down to love and fear, which is not so different from what Patanjali has to say on the matter in the yoga sutras. All human suffering, Patanjali states, boils down to Avidya, which is commonly translated as a lack of knowledge of God (and I use this word loosely). I like to think that "God" is defined as the Energy pervading every entity and non-entity in the Universe. It's the space stuff and the lack of space stuff all at the same time. It's the vibes, the waves, everything. When we forget that this energy is love or we fear a loss of this energy, our downward spiral into egotism (asmita), attachments (raga), aversions (dvesa) and fear of death (abhinivesa) begin. The good news is that this energy is really with us all the time. It is us. We are it. To quote the Emily Dickinson, "love is all there is."
May we all learn from Max. He's a pretty mellow cat. His only real fear is being left out in the snow for more than about two minutes and, well, he gets pretty talkative when he's hungry and his cat bowl is empty. Other than that, he sends out love vibes all the time even as he snoozes in the sun on his cat bed.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
It Snowed!
We woke up to soft, fluffy white powder and blue skies blanketing our world. It's every skiers daydream and a driver’s nightmare. I arose, made some green tea and ventured out to see the state of the car: a white blump. So I broomed off the car and started it, wondering if I would be able to navigate through the snow that reached the bumpers! After a cup of determination (i.e. stiff green tea) and a few tries, I eventually made it out of the driveway and into the snow-covered world. Slowly.
I like it when the world is like this. Quiet. Calm. Slow. We are required by the law of physics (and the ice) to slow down our motions, to be hyper-aware of our moves, and to be conscious of ourselves. It's a meditation in action. As I sit in the afternoon sun soaking up my vitamin D for the day, I remember that all of life can be spent this way. A beautiful, calm meditation.
I like it when the world is like this. Quiet. Calm. Slow. We are required by the law of physics (and the ice) to slow down our motions, to be hyper-aware of our moves, and to be conscious of ourselves. It's a meditation in action. As I sit in the afternoon sun soaking up my vitamin D for the day, I remember that all of life can be spent this way. A beautiful, calm meditation.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Some days you can win: Valentine's Day
I started Valentine's Day by finalizing the end to a relationship. It was a good decision. Next time I will be head over heels in love with the person I choose.
I taught my first yoga class after a two and a half month sabbatical to the five students who showed up. (Here's hoping that you all will make it back to Tuesday's classes!) I went home, ate chips and salsa for lunch then proceeded to sleep the rest of the afternoon as I struggle with jetlag. Unfortunately, the jetlag is winning as I'm up half the night and still sleeping during the mid-day. The quiet of the late nights and early mornings gives me time to reflect, to meditate and to practice. After I'm finished practicing, I've discovered to my surprise that cable TV actually has some pretty good stuff in the wee hours of the night. I seriously considered buying a skin care line that Cindy Crawford promises will reduce the crow's feet that are beginning to show around my eyes. An almost purchase, but not quite!
After a healthy dinner (to make up for lunch) of sautéed ginger, kale, carrot and tomato with a bitter green salad, I decided to go see the new George Clooney film "Up in the Air". The newspaper said it started at 7:55 pm. The automatic ticket dispenser said that the movie was at 10:25 pm, but I still believed the newspaper, thinking, "Oh it's probably sold out, but that's ok....I can sit on the stairs." So I gave the ticket taker my ticket, which he took without looking at it, only to find the paper wrong....the movie didn't start until 10:25pm. There was indeed no 7:55pm showing.
Instead of leaving only to come back again, I dropped into the last half of John Travolta's violent "From Paris" where our cute young hero, who happens to be some kind of CIA or special operatives guy, is engaged to what turns out to be a fanatical suicide killer. He tells her he loves her and then shoots her in the head as she threatens to blow herself up at an African summit meeting. How romantic, I thought.
Still having a significant amount of time before my movie began, I then dropped into "Book of Eli" where the world is blown up and deserted (think Afghanistan landscape here). After additional violence, our hero Eli is able to recite the Bible to some people who are going to reeducate everyone about the pre-Armageddon world that was somehow obliterated. Then he dies. Another uplifting film.
Finally, it's time for George Clooney. Finally. Oh to spend Valentine's Day with George. He's always so charming, so demure, and so handsome: who can resist? The movie was running 10 minutes late, so I sat in the theatre while the cleaners finished throwing away the empty popcorn containers and leftover candy wrappers. I was the only one in the theatre. Then the movie began. I was still the only one in the entire theatre...for the entire film.
The kicker? There's a scene where George, the acclaimed handsome bachelor, is sent to convince his sister's fiance, who suddenly got cold feet on the day of the wedding, that he should indeed go through it. George asks "If you think back across your life, were other people present during your best moments?" Of course. Everyone needs a co-pilot. The sister gets happily married. George, however, ends up by himself questioning the bane of his existence.
I left the movie theatre contemplating the message of the day: love and our cultural perceptions of it. I recalled and have reproduced an article on Love by Swami Vivekananda that I read not so long ago:
I once had a friend who grew to be very close to me. Once when we were sitting at the edge of a swimming pool, she filled the palm of her hand with some water and held it before me, and said this: "You see this water carefully contained on my hand? It symbolizes Love."
This was how I saw it: As long as you keep your hand caringly open and allow it to remain there, it will always be there. However, if you attempt to close your fingers round it and try to possess it, it will spill through the first cracks it finds. This is the greatest mistake that people do when they meet love...they try to possess it, they demand, they expect... and just like the latter spilling out of your hand, love will retrace from you .
For love is meant to be free, you cannot change its nature. If there are people you love, allow them to be free beings.
1. Give and don't expect.
2. Advise, but don't order.
3. Ask, but never demand.
It might sound simple, but it is a lesson that may take a lifetime to truly practice. It is the secret to true love. To truly practice it, you must sincerely feel no expectations from those who you love, and yet an unconditional caring.
Our cultural heritage, as propagated in our media, indicates that we are somehow not complete without our "co-pilot" or our "one true love." We are taught, at least as female children, to dream of our "Prince Charming," who will one day come and save us from loneliness and unhappiness and that we are somehow incomplete until we find that person. While many of us are clear in a vague kind of way that we must find contentment within ourselves before we can be truly happy with another person, the biological longing and cultural training still creeps into our radar unbeknownst. Or maybe I should speak for myself. As I sat there alone in the movie theatre on Valentine's Day, I could feel the longing and desire to meet my "soul mate" creeping into my consciousness, bordering on self-pity and depression.
As I left the theatre, I remembered Swami Vivekananda's words on love. I remembered how beautiful my life truly is and how much I have to be grateful for. I remembered past lovers, the beauty that I've gained from the experiences that I've had with them and why our paths parted for one reason or another. I remembered all of the lovely people and friends in my life right now, and I want to thank you all for your kindness, compassion and love that we all share with the world. Happy Valentine's Day.
I taught my first yoga class after a two and a half month sabbatical to the five students who showed up. (Here's hoping that you all will make it back to Tuesday's classes!) I went home, ate chips and salsa for lunch then proceeded to sleep the rest of the afternoon as I struggle with jetlag. Unfortunately, the jetlag is winning as I'm up half the night and still sleeping during the mid-day. The quiet of the late nights and early mornings gives me time to reflect, to meditate and to practice. After I'm finished practicing, I've discovered to my surprise that cable TV actually has some pretty good stuff in the wee hours of the night. I seriously considered buying a skin care line that Cindy Crawford promises will reduce the crow's feet that are beginning to show around my eyes. An almost purchase, but not quite!
After a healthy dinner (to make up for lunch) of sautéed ginger, kale, carrot and tomato with a bitter green salad, I decided to go see the new George Clooney film "Up in the Air". The newspaper said it started at 7:55 pm. The automatic ticket dispenser said that the movie was at 10:25 pm, but I still believed the newspaper, thinking, "Oh it's probably sold out, but that's ok....I can sit on the stairs." So I gave the ticket taker my ticket, which he took without looking at it, only to find the paper wrong....the movie didn't start until 10:25pm. There was indeed no 7:55pm showing.
Instead of leaving only to come back again, I dropped into the last half of John Travolta's violent "From Paris" where our cute young hero, who happens to be some kind of CIA or special operatives guy, is engaged to what turns out to be a fanatical suicide killer. He tells her he loves her and then shoots her in the head as she threatens to blow herself up at an African summit meeting. How romantic, I thought.
Still having a significant amount of time before my movie began, I then dropped into "Book of Eli" where the world is blown up and deserted (think Afghanistan landscape here). After additional violence, our hero Eli is able to recite the Bible to some people who are going to reeducate everyone about the pre-Armageddon world that was somehow obliterated. Then he dies. Another uplifting film.
Finally, it's time for George Clooney. Finally. Oh to spend Valentine's Day with George. He's always so charming, so demure, and so handsome: who can resist? The movie was running 10 minutes late, so I sat in the theatre while the cleaners finished throwing away the empty popcorn containers and leftover candy wrappers. I was the only one in the theatre. Then the movie began. I was still the only one in the entire theatre...for the entire film.
The kicker? There's a scene where George, the acclaimed handsome bachelor, is sent to convince his sister's fiance, who suddenly got cold feet on the day of the wedding, that he should indeed go through it. George asks "If you think back across your life, were other people present during your best moments?" Of course. Everyone needs a co-pilot. The sister gets happily married. George, however, ends up by himself questioning the bane of his existence.
I left the movie theatre contemplating the message of the day: love and our cultural perceptions of it. I recalled and have reproduced an article on Love by Swami Vivekananda that I read not so long ago:
I once had a friend who grew to be very close to me. Once when we were sitting at the edge of a swimming pool, she filled the palm of her hand with some water and held it before me, and said this: "You see this water carefully contained on my hand? It symbolizes Love."
This was how I saw it: As long as you keep your hand caringly open and allow it to remain there, it will always be there. However, if you attempt to close your fingers round it and try to possess it, it will spill through the first cracks it finds. This is the greatest mistake that people do when they meet love...they try to possess it, they demand, they expect... and just like the latter spilling out of your hand, love will retrace from you .
For love is meant to be free, you cannot change its nature. If there are people you love, allow them to be free beings.
1. Give and don't expect.
2. Advise, but don't order.
3. Ask, but never demand.
It might sound simple, but it is a lesson that may take a lifetime to truly practice. It is the secret to true love. To truly practice it, you must sincerely feel no expectations from those who you love, and yet an unconditional caring.
Our cultural heritage, as propagated in our media, indicates that we are somehow not complete without our "co-pilot" or our "one true love." We are taught, at least as female children, to dream of our "Prince Charming," who will one day come and save us from loneliness and unhappiness and that we are somehow incomplete until we find that person. While many of us are clear in a vague kind of way that we must find contentment within ourselves before we can be truly happy with another person, the biological longing and cultural training still creeps into our radar unbeknownst. Or maybe I should speak for myself. As I sat there alone in the movie theatre on Valentine's Day, I could feel the longing and desire to meet my "soul mate" creeping into my consciousness, bordering on self-pity and depression.
As I left the theatre, I remembered Swami Vivekananda's words on love. I remembered how beautiful my life truly is and how much I have to be grateful for. I remembered past lovers, the beauty that I've gained from the experiences that I've had with them and why our paths parted for one reason or another. I remembered all of the lovely people and friends in my life right now, and I want to thank you all for your kindness, compassion and love that we all share with the world. Happy Valentine's Day.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
My Return to Santa Fe
It is a strange reality to return to a life that you left behind. I've spent the last two months reflecting on my yoga practice, meeting new people, experiencing insights brought about by new environments, living a different kind of life from the one I created in Santa Fe. It was a fabulous "pause" and I am now excited to continue forward movement in my practice and my life. I believe that my yoga practice is intended not to isolate me into a so-called spiritual quest, but rather to incorporate spirituality into my daily existence. Yoga encourages us to live our lives more fully, more feverently, and more passionately with greater sensitivity, consciousness and awareness of ourselves, our environment and our Universe.
I hope you all will join me for yoga class on Sunday, Feburary 14 at 9:30 am. This class will be free for first time students. I look forward to seeing you all soon.
As promised, here is one of the photographs that I took in New York with Leon. He's a master.
I hope you all will join me for yoga class on Sunday, Feburary 14 at 9:30 am. This class will be free for first time students. I look forward to seeing you all soon.
As promised, here is one of the photographs that I took in New York with Leon. He's a master.
Friday, February 5, 2010
New York City
After traveling half way around the planet in 3 days on no less than 3 different airlines with an incomprehensible amount of luggage (think wood yoga blocks from India), I've finally arrived in New York City. I spent half the night helping my friends paint their spare bedroom "soothing lavender" before finally crashing on their spare cot in the kitchen. I was soooo happy to sleep on something that does not resemble airplane seats. After a mere three hours of crash, I'm awake and heading to the New York Yoga Institute for an early morning class with James Murphy. Perhaps there will be an organic tea shop along the way. I'm looking forward to practicing on the rope wall before class and to photographing the yoga space, which is generally considered to be one of the most beautiful.
I have three major tasks here in NYC. The first is to take photos with the most amazing photographer I've ever worked with (www.leonsaperstein.com). Even in my current jetlagged state of being, there will be some outstanding photographs. He is a master.
My second mission is to visit the NY Iyengar Yoga Institute. This is part of my research to design a fully functional and well equipped, easy to clean, beautiful yoga studio.
Lastly my mission is to hear some live music, preferably of the danceable jazz and funk genre. It's Friday night in NYC after all.
I have three major tasks here in NYC. The first is to take photos with the most amazing photographer I've ever worked with (www.leonsaperstein.com). Even in my current jetlagged state of being, there will be some outstanding photographs. He is a master.
My second mission is to visit the NY Iyengar Yoga Institute. This is part of my research to design a fully functional and well equipped, easy to clean, beautiful yoga studio.
Lastly my mission is to hear some live music, preferably of the danceable jazz and funk genre. It's Friday night in NYC after all.
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