You’re Welcome. And I’m Sorry.

I finished teaching one of my yoga class sessions last week. As my small but dedicated group of students hugged and bestowed me with their appreciations upon leaving, i was, as usual, attempting to find some closing bit of motivational insight to share, some profoundly wise – or at least something adorably memorable to say in response. But, as the moments and smiles drifted by, i heard only two phrases echo in my head (neither or those wise or profound and definitely not adorable):

“You’re welcome. And i’m sorry.”

For days now, i’m trying to decipher this rather familiar, albeit internal, refrain. i realize quickly i am nothing if not a contradiction in terms. i simultaneously feel confident and filled with doubt. deeply happy and deeply disturbed. filled with hard-earned wisdom and equal amounts of blinding ignorance.

This is, really, no big surprise. Paradox IS the human condition. and i’m nothing if not infuriatingly human. Still, after being a teacher for over 2 decades, i wanted to know where this knee-jerk response was coming from.

So, i made a list (James Alchuter has taught me to love lists)

You’re welcome for:

my time

my commitment

my knowledge

my teaching experience

my authentic appreciation of your uniqueness

my sincere attempts at providing equal amounts of gravity and levity

I’m sorry for:

the rest of me.

Locked Out in Brooklyn

New York I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down

Day 6 Brooklyn NYC –
i’m feeling rather schizophrenic since arriving in Green Point last week. enthused enough at moments to prompt a friend to query on facebook, “are you having a love affair with NYC?” and despairing enough at times for me to wonder, “wtf?”

NYC seems to exist in two realms and i have yet to understand how they fit together. more disturbing, my lack of understanding changes nothing. NYC is what it is. you can take it or leave it. not much middling available.

unless of course, you are one of the celebrated high-risers who have their cake and well, have more cake later.

by day 2, i stopped assuming i would get a glimpse of these people as i walked the gritty streets but knew that somehow they are part of the reason i’m here. and part of the reason i can’t stay.

amidst populated and seemingly endless yoga classes, ymca workouts, co-ed yet intense basketball games on asphalt courts, street joggers, leashed dogs who look completely accepting of their concrete jungle, a shocking number of new-borns in the arms of mothers with that blissed-out but slightly disheveled look, not as many bicycles as i imagined but a number of hipsters diligently giving it a go…yeah, amidst this and a lot more is a pervasive loneliness that dug deep into me by day 4.

A friend – with genuine NYC creds – calls it, “good ‘ol alienating urban environs”. but i think there’s more to it than that.

NY, i love you but you’re blowing my mind.