Heart Full

By now all of my friends know I’m hooked on yoga. Having heard me rave for months, they ventured to take a class with me. Feeling adventurous I took them to Yoga to the People , which I’d been wanting to try. Although I hadn’t been there yet, I felt confident the class would be good. The pictures on their site were stunning, and the reviews on yelp were glowing.

My friends were apprehensive, they hadn’t been to many studios, and never to a dedicated yoga studio. Having a yogi in the middle of the room demonstrate every variant of head stand, and poses indistinguishable from contortions didn’t really make them feel at home. The vibe was strangely unwelcoming, maybe it was the still and sweaty air, or the simmering knowledge that there was only one bathroom for the 40+ people in class.

I was eager to begin. But not more than 15 minutes into it, my impatience started to grow, and unfortunately it started to infect the people around me. Our (possibly) novice teacher, was continually confusing left and right, calling the poses (asanas) the wrong name, often just giving up and trying to describe the pose. Under normal circumstances this would be fine, except when you’re standing on one (very) tired leg.

Eventually, as we were held in lengthy and irregular suspense, pockets of students began guessing where she was going and would proactively move into the pose. Too bad for us, we were only right half the time. Worse yet, I started feeling a gnawing guilt. I was angry at her for “ruining” my friends’ first foray into yoga, but I of all people ( a teacher in training at the time myself) I should have been able to produce a modicum of empathy.
I’m probably not being fair , this place takes donations, generous by any measure, with NYC rents it’s saintly. And like some wise yogis pointed out, it’s not enough to bring my people to yoga, I should really have an open mind and let yoga come my people.