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Ipanema Beach, Rio de Janiero – June 2008

It would be tough to imagine anything more beautiful than the beach landscape of Rio. Until I saw her people. My cellulite screamed in agony. For several caipirinha induced hours I believed that this place inspired Eden. Wishful thinking. This is not the cradle for all human kind, just supermodels. And it’s easy to see why. The beaches virtually all 6+ km of it are teeming with activity, and not the sun-bathing kind, but futbol, volleyball, and jogging. Starbucks doesn’t exist here, it’s door to door juice bars, McDonalds is sasquatch rare, and no one smokes. Top it off with a healthy tan, good-looking genes, and you have your average Brazilian.

So it’s easy to see why I slithered into my first Brazilian yoga class. The fact that the only yoga class I could find within a healthy – NYer walking radius of my hotel was in a gym was no comfort. My mind had me mat to mat with Adriana Lima, or any other Victoria Secret Model (since they all seem to come from Brazil nowadays). It would never matter how stable I was in crow or tree, all of my poses would be marked by dimply, pudgy and squat.

But Adriana Lima wasn’t there, to be kind, the class was upper middle aged, and mildly out of shape. I shamelessly admit, I was pretty relieved. But a big part of me was disappointed too. I thought that since Brazilians were so in tuned to their health, and ecological environment, they would have discovered the benefits of yoga a long time ago. But I guess, they didn’t.

For an hour class the instructor was close to 10 minutes late, and then spent another 10 minutes trying to fix the music. She had us do about 10 minutes of pranayama (breathing exercises), and then she talked us into peacock . The HORROR! The mis-alignments were gruesome. And it was personally upsetting to see people’s painful winces as they rolled their wrists. Worst of all, she managed to mangle me into the pose, I couldn’t dodge her, and my attempts at “no, thank you” weren’t understood. Not wanting to be the center of attention any longer, I wrestled into a shaky see-saw (see peacock).

In this paradise I thought yogis would thrive, but even in paradise I guess you have to realize that being into your body, isn’t the same thing as being in tuned to your body.

Consuming Carefree Caipirinhas

Laughing Lotus Logo (until I upload my photos)

By now, Laughing Lotus is a venerable Yoga Studio on the New York scene, and just about every drop I’ve heard about this place, has been glowing. But I was dubious, especially when I was blinded by the colors, almost the minute I entered. “Ah”, said my inner voice, “bohemian charm”, much like Kula Yoga . But the studios are almost nothing alike, and I am sheepishly ashamed at having been so judgmental.

Both classes I took at Laughing were stunning challenging, the teachers are uniquely creative with “flow”, gifted with a sense of playfulness, and easy dharmic insights. The midnight class with it’s live music (cello the night I went), soothing style, and accessibility shouldn’t be missed. Yet, what I was most impressed with was not LL’s warm and spacious studio, the free *filtered* water/tea and organic oreos, lengthy library, quiet meditative spaces, and mat storage, but their students. I have never met friendlier faces, and they make jokes! In a city where I learned to focus on “my own thing”, look ahead, get ahead and never look back. Ever. It’s touching to encounter a welcoming face, from people who aren’t paid to do it.

Now I have to say it, and I’m embarrassed typing it, after that exceedingly exuberant review, but I just wish that I got at least one adjustment during any of the three classes I attended. Maybe it was something I said.

Jivamukti Sign on Broadway

Jivamukti, the near legendary yoga studio (turned celebrity hangout), that started it all. Some people might point to California as the birth place of Vinyasa, the yoga syle that would dominate the American yoga-scape. Even still its influence is undeniable.

On top of all that reputation, Kristin my teacher was an alum from this studio, so in my mind, EVERYONE here would be just-like-her. Almost true. But I was curious, and so was willing to swallow my pride, and be the worst one in class to see what all the fuss was about. I wasn’t disappointed. The class was so vigorous I perspired like I was in hot yoga. I hadn’t expected that and had come sans-towel. I persevered and ignored the fact that I became the sweatiest person in the fairly filled room, but eventually gave in, and became that yogi, the one that steps on everyone’s mat to get to the door, because the sweat is blinding her.

I had expected a humbling experience, but instead it was uplifting. The dharma was inspiring, the kirtan (chanting) a little hard to follow, but I appreciated her encouraging description of our “shining souls” as we chanted. Most of all, I admired how she gave each student in the class a meaningful adjustment, no easy feat given that there were over 30 students in the room.

The room was set up so the students were facing each , but not so close together that eye contact was inevitable, there was a roomy aisle in the corridor of sun-saluting bodies. The set up was disorienting at first, my reflection after all was a man. But as the class continued and the postures became progressively more challenging, I found that not only by breath, but my “reflection” were acting as my anchor, and I can’t say I minded.

I felt invigorated after my class at Jivamukti, and I liked it enough to try it again. The second time, was even more challenging then the first, the kirtan if possible was even more lovely, and yet I found it wasn’t nearly as centering. The students seemed noisier, more restless, and the teacher at times was just…loud.

Overall, my experience at Jivamukti was what i hoped it would be, and I see why it’s reputation proceeds it. If it were priced about a hundred dollars less a month, I would probably sign up. But it seems the price tag includes the celebrity hang out portion of its reputation which I could really do without.

Jivamukti from outside

Hallway

Jivamukti bookstore

Front Doors of Ishta Yoga

During our teacher training program KL had peppered her insights with what she was learning and going through as a student from her teacher. At first I was surprised she had a teacher, I just assumed that she didn’t need a teacher, at least not one in the way she was a teacher to us. But then, I became incredibly curious. I mean she was already so much more knowledgeable and enlightened than we were, how much MORE was her teacher? I imagined a yoda-like figure who’s very look could enlighten you. It turns out he’s not a fictional character and actually opened up a studio near Union Square, Ishta Yoga. And KL now had a class there and invited us to come. I could barely wait.

I wanted to go first and foremost to support KL, her teachings have developed my practice in unbelievable ways, and going to support her was the least I could do. But I also wanted to see where SHE practices, and did it resemble Narnia? It was close. The studio was new, and still had a luminous unused quality to it. The amenities were immaculate, with yes, real changing rooms and sparkling bathrooms. But most impressive was the studio. It had a modern industrial aesthetic with a Zen feel, dark wood floors, white walls, high ceiling, and well placed lighting. The ceiling height gave it unusual spaciousness as if you were walking into a world of yoga, and not a just a studio. I also liked how the separate room for props demarcated the main studio, as if all students “past this point” shouldn’t be encumbered with citta vritti (fidgety thoughts) but focused on the moment.

Yet, despite the encouraging environment to focus on the yoga, I couldn’t. The girls were there, I obviously was not the only one curious about the place. More than half of the Winter 2008 Kaya Yoginis showed up, and it had been weeks since so many of us were together. It’s amazing what can transpire in a couple of weeks, many of them were well on their way to the new beginnings they had just started during training, and I wanted to hear all about it. We couldn’t stop chatting, and like school kids KL had to eventually shush us into taking our seats. It was heart full to see them again, to share what we’ve been up to, and our experiences since the training program. This is one of the best unions in yoga and one that’s often overlooked. I’d forgotten how much strength and support one can get from the many, and i understood then why even if KL always seemed confident and strong in her teaching, she still wanted her girls there.

11th Street, NYC

Kaya Yoginis, with Alex in spirit