Yoga Dreams

When I close my eyes at the end of yoga class to relax in Shivasina pose, I am in New York again. I can see the high tin ceiling of the room I practiced in for the last five years. The traffic outside is the intersection of Broadway and Houston. People are teeming in and out of Crate & Barrel. Then I open my eyes, startled at the unfamiliar room and unfamiliar faces and sad for a moment that when I go outside, I'll cross Fairfax and get into my car rather than walking toward home along Bleecker Street.