The Hottest Mandala in Town

Right Place, Right Time

Hello, friends,

Thanks for your patience while I finish up my manuscript for Long Life Yoga. In the meantime, I have started writing another, very different book and I thought you might like to read an excerpt. I will post part 1 today and then part 2 next week.

This week my husband, Brad and I celebrated the day that we met, March 11, 2011. We were in Narita airport during the earthquake which was related to the tsunami 200 miles away. I walked up to Brad and said, "This is why we meditate." He said,"Hmmm....tell me more about what you mean." It took 9 more months but we finally got together and then he started asking me lots more questions about practice. One question he asked was, "How do you teach or practice mindfulness or Buddhism in a yoga class?"

This excerpt is from the new book I am writing with working title: New Yoga City. I think it answers his question.

OM yoga birthday party!

It will be of particular interest and just so fun for anybody that was a regular student at my studio, OM Yoga Center—especially what we always called the "old" studio. It was the first OM on 14th Street where we were for 5 years before moving to Broadway and 12th St. over the Strand Bookstore.

Please do me a favor and make your way to the bottom of the post to like or comment. It really helps a lot with bringing more attention to my work and I so appreciate it.

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The Hottest Mandala in Town

The place was packed almost from the very beginning. Classes were offered from 7:00 am until 9:30 pm, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Students came from all directions. Downtowners walked to class through the East Village or the West Village or Chelsea and midtown workers took the subway to the Union Square hub, three blocks east of the studio. Every weeknight between 5:00 and 6:00, you could see them funneling into a small parade as they schlepped in their high heels, sneakers, boots, Birkenstocks and flip flops across 14 St. on their way to evening class at OM yoga Center.

Just about everybody showed up: bankers, Broadway dancers, social workers, writers, parents, clothing designers, musicians, lawyers, TV executives, old hippies, young yuppies, movie stars, Manhattanites, suburban commuters and everybody else. Seniors came to Brand New Beginners classes in the mornings and little kids came to yoga class after school, while their nannies waited for them in the lobby.

At the very beginning, though, there weren’t that many classes or that many students. But then a little angel named Lisa Steele appeared and asked if she could help us in exchange for yoga. So I made some flyers for classes—OM yoga Center YOGA CLASSES for Every Body—on the used Mac 100 that I had bought for $300. Lisa took the flyers to Kinko’s and had them printed up on fluorescent colored paper; borrowing the store scissors to cut little tear-off tabs with our phone number on the bottom. (In 1998, yoga studios didn’t have websites yet!) Then she roller-skated all around downtown Manhattan, posting the flyers in health food stores and laundromats, which we hoped were the top two most likely places to be patronized by potential yoga students.

This high level strategy worked! After about three weeks the classes started to fill up. We had two yoga studios in the Center: the big one held 45 mats, and the little one held 16 mats if they were placed one inch apart. Sometimes the classes in the small studio expanded to 20 people because students were willing to place their mats out the door and into the hallway. Not everybody liked being in such close contact with other people but nobody wanted to be the one to leave. There was a sense that something new and special was happening at this place called OM.

Back then, there were only about 10 other yoga studios in NYC, but the word was getting out: yoga was a good way to exercise and maybe also a good way to process your stress and feel better. I used to say that yoga makes you feel better even if you didn’t feel bad in the first place. It was true, and for the promise of this experience, many people were willing to come to a funky, well worn space above noisy West 14th Street for 100 minute classes, multiple times a week.

They clomped up the one flight of stairs or gamely took the unreliable elevator, which was stinky on a good day. Because New Yorkers are generally always in a hurry and mostly always running late, the instant they got to the second floor they kicked off their shoes and propelled themselves toward the front desk, as if sliding into first base. Everybody had to stop there and check in with Charles, whose nickname was Char-Les. He took his job at the front desk seriously and his authority was unquestioned. Even if you knew that he knew your name, Char-Les still required you to sign in on paper attendance sheets. Then he collected your $12 for a single class or punched a hole in your 10-class card, which was also made on the Mac100 and printed at Kinkos.

If, by some chance, you happened to arrive early for the 6:00 class you would have to wait until the 4:00 class emptied out of the studio at 5:40. Technically the little space just outside the elevator door was a lobby, but Beverly Bronson, my dear friend and owner of the East Village’s Repeat Performance, made it more like a living room; cozy and friendly. She brought in two sets of vintage attached theater seats along with a desk and chair for Char-Les, and some little lamps made from old Buddha statues. I figured out how to hand sew some tiny lamp shades and re-upholster the theater seats with some tartan plaid from my fabric stash at home. The decor was accidentally on trend for 1998 shabby-chic, but with an extra homemade aesthetic vibe.

Because this was New York City in the late 90s, the yoga boom hadn’t happened yet and so neither had the invention of athleisure clothing. Real NYC women would never have stooped to walking the city streets in tights (a.k.a. leggings) unless they were covered by a dress, and so changing rooms were needed. Although most downtown modern dancers, like me, were used to changing from jeans into tights in the corner of a dance studio, most non-dancer yoga students were not comfortable with this level of exposure, and we wanted more than dancers to come to OM. So we managed to put up a couple of walls and create two dressing rooms which were just big enough to change your clothes in if you didn’t need to bend over to do it. It was sweaty and friendly and, looking back, I see that even this was part of how the OM community grew. The whole thing was a petri dish. We were growing a new culture in NYC.

Every 30 days or so, I would stick a new Pose of the Month poster on the wall. I didn’t really know how to draw but I did it anyway, using china markers to make stick figures doing the pose. Beneath that I wrote the name of the pose in both English and Sanskrit. This was a really fun and effective way to teach students how to grow their practice in a safe step-by-step progression. It got them interested in how yoga poses work, how the poses relate to the philosophy of yoga and to the rest of their lives. It helped them see that what they couldn’t do yet was within their reach.

In this way, class at OM was like going to adult continuing ed. These adults were engaged in learning something new that offered lots of potential for development and was immediately available. You didn’t have to do anything to get ready for yoga. Just show up and breathe and try this and then observe the effects of your actions. People were really enthusiastic. When you are an adult it is rare to have such a fresh, invigorating experience that requires all parts of you—body, breath and mind. It seemed that OM yoga had infused a sense of uplift and brightness into their whole life.

Once 5:40 arrived, the doors to the big studio opened and the 4:00 yogis would float out on their bare feet, exuding a sense of well-being. The 4pm class was popular with writers, musicians, film makers and all kinds of artists who worked at home. They told me this was the perfect yoga time for them. It got them out of their studios and apartments after working alone all day. They loved being in a social situation of like-minded people. After class, they sometimes continued their floating, making their way a few blocks over to Florent in the far West Village for martinis together.

Around 5:50, I would come out of my tiny back office to set up for my 6pm class in the big studio. I would hang out in a little nook just inside the door, greeting people as they came in and put down their mats. If they didn’t bring their own mats, they could rent one for $1, pulling it out of a barrel next to the Coke crate that hung from the wall holding a stash of cassette tapes, full of “yoga” music and other, me-made mix tapes.

5:55. With five minutes to go before class, I’d have a decision to make and everybody waited to hear what would happen. Typically, we’d start with the mats lined along the long sides of the big, rectangular studio, with students facing west or east. But if, at the last minute, there were too many people to set up the usual way, I would say, “Turn the mats!” This was an exciting moment. Instead of grumbling, people were happy to make the shift because they all knew why the place was packed: OM yoga was the place to be and it felt good to be part of that happening place!

In under two minutes, all forty-five people would reorient their mats so that half of the group was facing south toward 14th Street and the other half turned the mats to face north toward uptown. We could fit about ten more people into the room this way, allowing for a middle path of open space between the north and south sides. When you sat down on your mat, you weren’t just facing uptown or downtown, you were facing your yogi friends. This created a lot of warmth and social currency. We became a real community of yogis who were there, not just to take a yoga class, but specifically to take a group yoga class with each other.

Using a folded-up blanket as a make-shift cushion, I sat down at the top of the middle path. Sometimes I felt nervous and sometimes I felt happy; and over the years, I sometimes felt burned out. But whatever I felt when I walked in the room, that feeling transformed almost immediately when I took my seat. It was an honor and responsibility to hold the space and share these precious teachings that I had learned from my teachers. Inside my heart and mind were years of pithy dharma lessons from Gelek Rimpoche, and in my bones lived all the form and structure the great choreographer, Eugene Loring, taught me in six years of conservatory dance training. Armed with these two lineages, I knew that I was at the right place at the right time. And I was ready and able.

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2 NEXT WEEK!

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PAID SUBSCRIBER ZOOM MEDITATIONS WITH ME

Two Sundays ago I was joined by quite a few PAID SUBSCRIBERS for a lovely meditation. I talked a bit about how meditation is a refuge, we meditated for 17 minutes, did a little stretching and answered a couple questions. All in half an hour! We agreed to do it again every other month.

The next meditation session will be Sunday, April 6 at 12-12:30 pm ET.

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Practice Opportunities

March Mindfulness Meditation Mini-Retreat!

Reader and Meditators, Please NOTE! You asked for it, you got it. This retreat will take place from 7-7:30 pm EDT which many of you have requested.

March 24-28

30 min/day
7-7:30 pm ET

Paid subscribers, and Moon and Stars sangha members: You can redeem your $40 discount pricing using the button at the bottom of each retreat’s registration page.

Also, you can purchase all 3 retreats of 2025 (March, July & December) for $120:

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Retreat is over half-way full - register soon!

This retreat is open to everyone! Our practice will focus primarily on sitting and walking mindfulness meditation, sustainable yoga, and restorative yoga. Yoga props will be available in the yoga studio and modifications will be offered for everyone. Each morning will include a short dharma talk and group discussion.