Yoga Shunya

Yoga Shunya

Ahhh, good ol' JC. Nothing's better than being in Jersey City, except yoga in JC with my fellow Jerseyans, aka Debbie and Joan. From the outside, you would never know that there's a yoga studio on the block. The only way to access the studio is to stand in front of a wine bar, wait for someone to unlock the door, walk through the wine bar, and trek up the "still in construction" stairs. Next to a small front room where everyone takes off their shoes is a "closet" where you sign in, find your card in the filing box, and check off that you're taking a class. There's an aura of good faith, as a bag of money lies on the table and people pitch in to help fill out forms and collect money.

With the usual Ohm chants came some off-key vociferousness from a man next to Joan. Sitting behind Deb, I was in full view of her reaction to his unusual sounds. I had a hard time keeping it together while watching Deb put her head in her hands and laugh underneath her breath. As my body convulsed from laughter, Joan poked me in my arm to further denounce my immaturity.

The instructor was one of the best I had experienced, giving full detailed instructions on each pose. "Hold your backs long, shoulders back, eyes forward, keep your toes active, and line up your shins with the thighs." Raising my hand when the instructor asked who's a beginner or new to the studio was the best initiative I've taken in years. He corrected my poses, helped with harder ones, and provided lots of encouragement. I really loved the attention and plan to declare that I'm a beginner to all yoga instructors in the future. Got a problem with that?