Heart Full

One of NYC’s best known parks, Washington Square. It’s had a checkered history not least of which is as a burial ground. The place is a downtown fixture making it more like a cultural area than a park. It also has a lot of significance to me. The liveliness I witnessed in this park circa 1994 was in no small part one of the reasons why I chose to spend the next 8 years of my life right beside it, at NYU. So it was with a lot of enthusiasm  that we decided to take our On Location Park activities to Washington Square. I wasn’t prepared however for all the attention, and I wasn’t even doing much in the way of poses — more like shifting my weight around. I was surprised by it since in neither Union Square or Madison Square did people pay any attention to us, in fact at Madison they seemed mildly annoyed, and at Union Square they were completely uninterested. In fact you can see a few people in the background — sleeping. Not so at Washington Square I was practically the other tourist attraction, the mini-arch. I even had people (if you can believe it) taking pictures of me. Once Urdhva Dhanurasana (Full Wheel) was done we could finally get around to enjoying the spring sun and all the festivities and live entertainment Washington Sq Park offers.

P.S. A part of me still wants to go back — bear the stares and take the photo again- ugh the alignment and the feet!

I was ecstatic that the sun came out today, and that I was able to take my sun salutations where it belonged, outside. I did an extra sun salutation just to express my gratitude.  Practicing in the Park, is something  I’ve added to my repertoire this summer. As the economy slackened, and my husband went back to school,  we found our that discretionary budget drastically diminished. Suddenly, I was back to making “cheap” lists, looking at coupons and sales. At first, I didn’t really change my habits — I just changed where I did it. So for example, I would still get facials, but maybe the spas weren’t anything to write home about. I still shopped, but only during sales. I still went out with friends, but made better use of happy hour.

But this wasn’t enough. We had to take a long hard look at our balance sheet, and actively remove the “nice to haves”. Then after we removed those, we had to reduce or stop other habits that had alternatives. One of things that I finally gave up, was going to a yoga studio 3 – 4 times a week. It was hard, because I felt that my practice and it’s development hinged on my ability to get to a studio.  I also felt that regular practice would help me integrate into another community, something I missed since leaving, New York Yoga. But the numbers were against me. My yoga practice was costing us more than we could afford between my going to studios 3-4x a week, while continuing to pay my neglected Equinox membership, an arrangement I had rushed into and now can’tt get out of until August.
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I had just received my New York Yoga Pass Book in the mail the other day, and I could not wait to use it. For the unbelievable price of $75 + shipping, you get a two-class pass book to virtually every studio in Manhattan. After the teacher training program, it seemed to be a great way to check out other styles of teaching, And verify for myself, if NY Yoga was worth my almost-every-day commute to the UES.

For my first choice I selected the Kula Yoga Project . I’d been staring at it long enough, read all of the glowing reviews, and best of all it’s within walking distance of where I live. So there I was, at Kula’s front desk, out of breath from the everest walk up, but triumphantly presenting my Yoga Pass Book, The girl at the desk was friendly, she picked up right away that it was my first time, and took me through the paces, as I took in the colorful bohemian charm of the place.

Unfortunately, this is where the good part of my experience ended. I can forgive the shabbiness of the place, if it weren’t charging a remarkable monthly fee for unlimited classes. But for the monthly price I would be paying, I do have standards. I expect clean bathrooms, as in fungus-free sinks, changing rooms, where you can’t accidentally walk in on men and vice versa because the changing space is shared, and divided by wilting curtains. And the air, the cool spring breeze I had experienced outside was forgotten in the face of the sweltering almost stifling heat of the reception area, “I don’t remember this being a hot studio” I thought to myself, it’s not.

The studio it turned out was too small, so the teacher looked directly at me and said, ” if you’re just coming in the class is full“. I ducked away and pretended I hadn’t noticed her piercing gaze as she spoke in my direction. I had been about the 10th person on the sign-in sheet and was certain I was in the class. A girl looked helplessly at the teacher and pleaded, ” I don’t think there are 20 people around…”, the teacher firmly shook her head, “they’re around”, she pointed to the sign-in sheet. Dejected, the girls and others slowly left. The class was tight. So tight, you couldn’t fit three fingers between mats. Aware of this, I carefully rolled out my mat, the floor deeply sighed under the motion, my soon-to-be neighbor clearly annoyed barked, “you’ll need to move over more than that!”. And that was as friendly as it got.

During class, I was poked into adjusting my wrong utkatasana, and my shoulder in Utthita Parsvakonasana , and while we’re on the sanskrit, there wasn’t a drop of it in class, nor chanting, or ohming, and worst of all, no mention of the breath. This was minimalist yoga, imperceptible that it came from India or had a 5,000+ year history, this was yoga birthed from the *gasp*, Jane Fonda gym.

But, maybe it was just a bad day and a bad class, the reviews can’t all be wrong, and the commute is just too good. We all deserve a second chance.