It’s beautiful the way the Universe takes care of bidness.
Extremes of helplessness and empowerment had been precariously mixing in the blender of NYC these last few weeks. Due to a miscommunication with my ex-hippy landlord, I had about three days to find an apartment to move into … no easy task, regardless of new-ness to New York or yogi mind-control techniques … and then … voila! The next day I receive an email from someone I’d contacted ages ago about renting a room. Come to find out, she has a massive space, with built in closets, shelves and a desk (this is gold in NYC room-hunting), two windows, and a private entrance, right on 7th Avenue in Park Slope. She’d just signed a lease with her boyfriend to land a sweet deal of her own, and found herself in a similar situation to me: on a three-day countdown ’til move-out day. Despite 24 hours of the potentially-frightening notion of being homeless looming in my mind, it all ended up working out – for everyone. As I write this, I am enjoying my first morning off in weeks, from the comfort of a very sweet find.
Another unusual synchronicity of note: I’d been looking into Master’s degrees in Public Health, Non-Profit Management and Social Work. Just as I started researching Columbia’s offerings, the founder of Third Root Community Center, one of the centers where I teach yoga, brought in 25 students from Columbia’s Public Health Summer Program to participate in my Back Care class. It was a fun class for all the newbies, and afterward I met a sister pursuing her PhD through the program, finding ways to address the HIV issue within particular populations … now I have a solid contact within the program and 25 new yoga fans as a cherry on top 😉
Sometimes I ask myself if I should be teaching yoga in New York. So much of the offerings here are shallow, some studio owners a bit callous, and it’s nearly impossible to break in when you haven’t done a teacher training in their particular schools. It’s so territorial. And just when I start asking these questions, I get published in the New York Times for a class I lead through Hiking Yoga on Saturdays at Prospect Park. It was a hearty ego-stroke, and one of many signs to continue teaching, even if it is only part-time for the time-being. I had a student tell me the other day she felt spiritually-nourished after our Restorative class! And another group of women welcomed me to Brooklyn after their Open Level class with open arms – literally! It felt good to be appreciated, even if as a yogi I should be totally un-moved by the praise of others.
Word. So it’s been a while since the last posting (again!) – but now that I’m actually in a place I could see myself living in for a year or so, things are back on track.
Thanks for reading, and watch this space for some light inspiration and tunes from a few of NYC’s new musical mavens…