It Was A Good Day

I have come to an interesting realization this evening. When something goes wrong, or something happens that is bizarre, sad, funny, out of the ordinary, I know exactly what to write about for my blog that day. It is easy to put into writing the things that are wrong or out of the norm. Based on reader statistics, you folks are far more eager to read posts about the shit hitting the fan. You seem to be a sensationalist bunch. I think it’s just a part of human nature, we can’t stop looking at a car accident and keep driving, we turn on the news and open the news papers to be informed of all the ills of this world, positive things seem to go unnoticed or unregistered on our radar. And it is precisely because of this that I do not know what to write.

Today was a pretty darn good day. The only thing that would have made it better would have been an extra hour of sleep. I taught three very different yoga classes to some inspiring and genuine people who left me feeling fulfilled and taught me many lessons. Even the gentleman who spent an hour sweating out Friday night’s excessive drinking and promptly fell asleep during Savasana and the woman who saw it fit to take off her bra in the middle of class taught me new things today. I walked out of the studio after my third class this evening to be greeted by what has been the only snow I have seen this winter falling from the sky. I took a long walk in the falling snow allowing myself to absorb all of the events of the day. For the first time in two years I find myself looking forward to going to work again. I want to be at work. I want to teach yoga. I leave every class I teach feeling better than I did before class started. The honor of getting to guide people through their practices and witnessing the subtle changes in their bodies and moods as class progresses energizes me and fills me with wonderment. I am still struggling with figuring out how to put all of these new experiences into writing. It is something I am going to really work at though. All of you who love to hear about the weird and bad stuff in my life, there will still be plenty of that, but buckle your seatbelts for sharp turn down a road that has fewer catastrophes.


About djunapassman

I teach yoga, write, and edit. I live in a Brooklyn neighborhood that is changing faster than I can, or care to, keep up with. Manhattan still beckons me to her island a few subways stops away, reminding me of when I lived amongst her daily hustle and bustle.
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