Emily's May Inspiration "There Goes The Hood"

It was more than a restaurant, it was a symbol. And in the past decade, the last man standing in a sea of homogeny brought on by outsiders visiting the East Village on the weekends; dabbling in the hip, artistic, and edgy. Fact is MAMA'S was the neighborhood. At ten dollars a plate with a choice of meat and three sides, MAMA's was the spot you went for down home comfort. Nestled on 3rd St btw A & B, I walked past this soul food spot daily back in the nineties, sometimes stopping in just for a side of mash potatoes when the city got rough. They had the best veggies too, and if you didn't want meat you could get an extra side with their mac and cheese rivaling no other.

I encourage my yoga students to embrace change, to accept the only constant in our lives is just that. But as my old street in Alphabet City morphs into more and more sameness - that chain store, homogenized look that plagues our country - I have to cry out, 'Why this hood!?' Why the spot where artists flocked to so they could be different and accepted? With the fortune tellers, druggies, and performance artists singing their tunes, graffiti walls and dive bars that embrace all kinds... Why must the demographic who desires sameness, who feels more comfortable in an OLIVE GARDEN than an authentic Italian dive invade the one place on the planet where we screwed the Man?

Those who infest the East Village on the weekends are in no way supporting the community and those who inhabit it. They leave and go back to their commutes and cubicles, and tell stories about how they had a 'crazy' weekend in the village. We lived there, many old-schoolers still do. It's our home, and place's like MAMA'S, or the old KING'S PHARMACY replaced by a DUANE READE were our pride, our joy and choice to remain original, authentic to ourselves. Most moved to the East Village against their society's wishes. To a far away land where parentals did not understand paying a thousand dollars a month for a shoebox apartment on Ave C, but we did and sacrificed to be there. The natives know the secret to Alphabet City is its character, its funkiness, and constant groove we so adore. With the closing of MAMA'S, I dare say...there goes the hood.

PEACE,

Archived Inspirations

on Holidays

THIS SEASON of HOPE

There was a shift this past November, an awakening I believe…it's been happening for some time. Hard to say who inspired it~ Ghandi, Lennon, Jesus…most importantly is that it is happening.

More and more people are beginning to care for the earth, to care for themselves; more and more people are yearning for change. Echoed in the shift in the Senate last month~ the votes met largely in the middle, an almost even democratic/republican split; a vote for peace, for balance. The more conscious one becomes of war, of judgment and hatred, the more the heart yearns for change.

And so the holidays come with hope this year…a battle cry for equality, an end to suffering at home and abroad. This year, the holidays come just in time to remind us to love (in spite of it all) to pray and gather with those who contributed long ago to who we are today.

The holidays are humbling. They serve as a reminder of what counts, of the simplicity of life. All the errands, stressful shopping, and fleeting parties are outlived by Daddy's bear hug, Mama's tree, and Grandma's caroling…and in the quiet moments by the fire, a burst of unbearable hope that the year ahead will be easier than the last; that we will experience more abundance and health, more peace and compassion for all. That we will continue to awaken the fire within, awaken the drive to craft our lives into something more meaningful, more gracious.

This is a season of hope~ a time when all of us for a short while hop off that ever spinning merry-go-round of life, and believe.

See your spirit in the menorah, and Christmas lights. Nourish your soul in the familiar songs. Reflect on the year that's passed so that you can enter the new one with the knowledge that hope and peace, on a very large scale…

…is happening.