Keeping the Dream Alive

I have never been very good at asking for help. Probably because at a formative time in my life when I needed it, there was none to be had. That experience conditioned me to stop asking altogether. I determined that I couldn't rely on anyone else so I convinced myself that I didn't need anything from anyone. In some ways, that has served me well. But, inevitably, there comes a time when it becomes clear that everyone needs help sometimes. And I find myself at one of these moments.

You see, I am trying to open a small yoga center in my neighborhood of Easton, PA. But the last few years have been so difficult financially that I am lacking the necessary seed money to make a decent go of it. The only reason I am even considering doing such a crazy thing is because a unicorn of a space has unexpectedly presented itself and, for the first time in quite a while, I feel a glimmer of possibility and hope.

I live in a square-mile neighborhood called College Hill. There are literally three blocks of commercially zoned space that is either owned by Lafayette College or a few old-school families that grew up here and have held out. I have been entertaining what it would be like to try and have a place on the hill since I moved here in 2017 but, ultimately, determined that it was basically impossible. I have walked these three blocks countless times but have never seen a space with a for rent sign much less a listing online. You basically have to know the right person and get lucky, on the off-chance that one ever even becomes available.

To make a much longer story shorter, I happened to meet a guy who knew the guy and I got a call. There is a space that has been occupied by a dentist for 30+ years and is now available. It's super small, it will only fit like 7-8 people max per class. But the rent is low enough that I think it could work.

When I got the text from the landlord some weeks back that I could have it if I want it, I had to make a decision on the spot. Normally, I would not agree to a lease without feeling like I had the resources to make good on the commitment. However, in this instance, I felt like I had no choice but to throw caution to the wind and go for it. Perhaps this was foolhardy of me but I just couldn't bear the sinking feeling that I am giving up on a dream that is worth keeping alive.

I owned a yoga center in Brooklyn, NY from 2007-2017. We had a good run but, eventually, the forever rising rents made it unsustainable. It was a very special place. People chose to make it part of their lives and came together to share and be supported in friendship. And I so long for that again. After the center closed, I spent three years touring as a b-lister yoga teacher up until the world fell apart and decimated the yoga profession. With all the turmoil and destruction that has taken place, I resigned myself to the notion that intimate small yoga centers are a dying breed and, essentially, lost faith that such spaces for yoga are viable.

Like many other teachers, I have managed to cultivate some vestige of my work online. I cherish the connections I am able to make with those who do not live in the same place as me. However, it is also impossible to deny that online exchange can never replace the importance of an in person interaction and shared physical space.

And then I got that call. And I said yes.

So here I am, faced with what feels like an insurmountable challenge. Anyone who has ever attempted to create a yoga center knows that you need some amount of initial seed money to cover your overhead costs for the first year or so to even give it a chance at surviving. But I don't have any of it. I am barely managing to make the mortgage and car payments, and keep my two children fed and clothed. There simply is no extra money to do this. And, having already reached out to anyone I know who might be in a position to help, I don't have anywhere else to turn except to whoever might read this.

I feel deeply uncomfortable. It's not like I have cancer or some horrible life-threatening dire situation that I am in desperate need of help for. I am just trying to open a stupid yoga center. How privileged of me to ask people to give me money for that? But, truthfully, I don't know what else to do. And while there are certainly many more people in more need than me, I am not going to let my own pride or insecurities stand in the way of doing something important.

Because, actually, I don’t think it’s stupid at all. With everything that has happened over the last few years that has made it seem futile to hope for anything, seeing if I can once again facilitate a space where yoga feels like it matters, and people have an opportunity to come together to breath and move and discover in a spirit of awe and wonder and joy, is perhaps the most important thing I know how to do. And the fact that this space showed up in the way that it has is so uncanny a happenstance that it has compelled me to humble myself and admit that I can’t do this alone.

I have calculated my overhead costs for the first year and set that as a goal. This is the amount that I think will give the place its best chance to fly. If you are reading this and have a few dollars to spare, and you want to help me, I am asking.

You can contribute here.

Thank you in advance.

p.s. Speaking of flying, I think I am going to call it: The Bird House Yoga Center. The name is inspired by observing house sparrows in my backyard. The center has a little side entrance, kind of like a hole, that opens into a small little box that I am hoping to make a nest in.