Fabulous, fabulous evening. I really didn't want to go, but I'd already shelled out $20 for a yoga workshop. A sunset yoga class on a rooftop down in Greenwich Village - sounds dreamy, doesn't it? Of course. Just not on an 85-degree day with 10,000% humidity (ok, ok, that's an exaggeration, but it was *really* hot!). But I went...
And I'm sooooo thankful I did. It was phenomenal! The breeze, the cloudless evening sky, no traffic noise...being able to lie on my back and look up into the sky. I can't even remember the last time I did that.
Ok, so it was hot and I got sweaty. But I left with a superb sense of calm. Wanted to play on the jungle gym and pick out shapes in the clouds (if there'd been some); a complete retroversion to the kid in me.
Y'all should try it...
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So who *is* this internationally-raised, assumed Southern transplant living in the Great White North? Damned good question. If you find the answer, certainly let me know. I'm looking to find the self-actualization short-cut....
"Women should be obscene and not heard." - Groucho Marx
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