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Bikram NYC

I recently hopped a train to New York. There was a writing conference in Manhattan and it seemed to be a good opportunity for me to be brave and embrace this writer thing.

I sound very calm and collected about the whole experience now, mostly because it was wonderful. (In fact, I ended up signing with a literary agent I met at the conference, so score one for being brave!) But before I went, I was a hot mess. This whole idea of embracing your authenticity is nice and all, but it can be really damn terrifying.

Many, many friends listened to me freak out about how nervous I was about going to this conference –  where I would know no one, needed to make the dreaded “small talk” and was scheduled to spend a horrific 90 minutes in a “Pitch Slam” which is like speed dating where you pitch your book idea to agents.

Essentially, it triggered every anxiety I’ve ever had.

But somehow I made it through. The response to my book was very positive and I actually had fun and learned something.

And how did I reward myself for surviving something called a Pitch Slam?? 90 minutes in the NYC Bikram Torture Chamber, of course!

Oh, how I love travel yoga. I love seeing the difference in studios, yet having the stability of the same 26+2 postures. And this particular studio was super handy because I could just run next door after class for all of my XXX video needs.

It’s always interesting to see the little individualities of a studio. Do you turn sideways on your mat for Standing Separate Leg Stretching or not? What is the floor made of? Which side of the room is the hot side??

But regardless of how different a studio might seem, there is something other than the postures that I can always depend on while doing travel yoga.

Peace.

It’s always there, whether I’m back bending in Rome, Prague or Midtown Manhattan. I walk out with that same deep contentment, that same feeling of having my soul wrung out.

And let me tell you, after the suffering that I imposed upon myself prior to the trip, there was a lot of crap to wring out.

So, thanks again yoga, for reminding me of what I am really capable of.

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