Heart Full

I’ve heard a wide range of reviews about Area Yoga, everything from a “serenely proportioned class” to “just OK” and the rooms smelling like bleach. So for my first Brooklyn preview — a borough I’m destined to become more familiar with (read the culmination of all my nesting posts) I decided this studio would be a good place to start. I was charmed by it, even before I rolled out my mat. The neighborhood is lovely. The boutique food stands, the just-bigger-than-my-closet stores, corner cafes and NYC residents that actually smile, they all had me at hello.

I was so entranced by the neighborhood I nearly missed Area Yoga, its entrance is discrete and the surrounding construction makes it easy to miss. Once discovered, it whispers an invitation complete with soft breeze and streaming sunlight. There’s no receptionist – behind a computer at the entrance or other yogis anxiously waiting for the next class. The vibe is decidedly laid back. You almost “stumble upon” the reception area, and the smile that greets you is likely to be warm and gentle. The same could be said about the class. It was a “gentle” Ashtanga practice. I’d never really known Ashtanga to be gentle. The ashtanga classes I’ve had in the past weren’t relaxing, (often grueling in fact) — and most dreaded of all, A LOT of binding. Gentle or not, there was no escaping the binding, but we did skip out on the grueling. There were definitely moments when I nearly fell asleep — a first for me in ashtanga anything.
(more…)

Hidden away on the second floor of the ever bustling 14th street is a simple studio that goes by, Yoga Yoga NYC . I discovered it using my New York Yoga Pass Book. I noticed they offered a good number of classes in Ashtanga , an invigorating practice that I wanted to experience more thoroughly. Unlike any other studio I’ve visited, there was no posting on the entrance indicating their branding, and the door was so nondescript I mistook it for a storage room, and continued up the stairs. I probably would’ve continued walking up to the roof, if I hadn’t heard someone open the door, seemingly “looking” for someone. My spidey senses figured it was me.

The layout couldn’t be more basic, a single roomed loft, with partitions for changing rooms. I was thrilled to notice there wasn’t a computer (running Om software) in the make shift reception area, and the woman behind the desk had a genuine smile. I even liked the hand written attendance sheets, and the organic mess of post-it notes. It was personal.

I was nervous about the class. My Ashtanga practice was spotty at best, and Ashtanga classes tend to be fast paced, and sweaty. My first class crushed my ego, which could be why I’ve been shy about repeat visits. But I had nothing to worry about, the intimate setting imparted a kindness, and a no-judgments environment. The instructor was clear, in both her direction and her adjustments. She also customized her modifications specifically for my needs. Making difficult poses seem more approachable.

In this lost city, it’s refreshing to see a yoga studio that doesn’t seem like a business, even if said business is wellness and care. It’s inspiring to see sky when you do your sun salutations. It’s nice to actually write your name, rather than spell it out for their database entry. It’s nice to see literature offered rather than sold. It’s a heart-full experience to tell people your name, and believe they’ll remember it. And they did.