Times Like These

Stumbling to a friend’s bathroom last month before dawn, I stopped—read the sticker across his iPad; “Warning: We’re All One.” I used to complain late nineties NYC, that our generation had nothing to stand for, that nothing happened… Now, I teach class post...

For Whom Life Tolls

The cathedral bells have been stirring me. Early morning and hot, summer nights I hear their tolls arriving by breeze… Funny, how romantic a town can be. Just when you dismiss it, my desert relationship takes a magical turn I never knew existed. Even routine...

Lesson on the Back Road

I recently got lost on the Back Road in Madrid, New Mexico. Near midnight and pitch black, I sort of knew the way… But wished I’d took down my friend’s landline when he offered it, because now the only option was to stop, and breathe, and wait—for some sort of a...

Our Dying Days

Not sure about you, but things have been trying in my world. Yes, it’s beautiful and abundant, and in many ways, incredibly privileged. I get that. But, I’m here to report, some days…man, it ain’t easy. Because it takes a certain skin to be able to stick your...

Go To The Poets

I recently saw a stage production of George Orwell’s, “1984.” The New York Times hails it the number one book you should read in 2017. Written nearly seventy years ago, it is freakishly topical. I squirmed in my seat all the way through the second act wanting to flee,...

Yoga & The Revolution

When a girlfriend noted what was happening in my classes by allowing eighteen and under free to join us, it took awhile to stand back and see it. It’s true the six month old was melting faces faster than I could with even the best vinyasa sequence to music. All she...

Baby, Just Roll…

The pulse of Manhattan—my feet so comfy below 2nd Ave, East Village escapes me now walking in heels up the narrow stairway to the balcony of the famous Spotted Cat on Frenchman. My New Orleans jazz guitarist, leading us during set break to watch the start of Carnival...

The Truth About Girls

I cried after watching the first episode of HBO’s GIRLS. I cried because it was so fucking beautiful, and so the show I’d want to watch, but even more—the show I should have made. That was the depth of my tears, with absolute happiness, honestly for Lena Dunham, I had...

Holiday Heartache

I’d be fine tossing 2016 as far away from memory as possible. Tested by heartache after heartache, and now so many neighbors disconnected. Yet, my job remains to sell peace, to inspire through art, how to be authentic and free… Just, what to do about the...

Family Style on Diamond Street

I’m not sure what broke my heart more, the sacredness of my morning walks down to the beach? Which was empty, except for the seagulls teaching me how to fly and the hound dog running up to sniff my calves in the ocean. Maybe it was the way my students’ faces softened...