la, la, la, la, la. Does anyone remember that song?
Maybe it was from my long nights spent in Euro trash clubs in Boston, with my short shorts and long teased hair.
Sounded a lot better after a few goldschlager shots and a Zima. Oh, the old days.
Life.
Life is never convenient.
Never.
Things don't happen according to schedule. The blackberry. The plan.
Never.
Love,
sickness,
car batteries dying on Sunset and Laurel 30 minutes before you are supposed to teach a class.
Panic.
Lesson.
If I panic, I will miss the lesson.
So, I breathe.
Call AAA. What would any LA driver do without it? I never used it, ever, before last week.
I have called AAA three times in one week.
1st, I busted a tire and had to replace three.
2nd, I locked my keys in the car for the first time in my existence, right in the Liberation Yoga parking lot in Hollywood. I called them up and said that I was foolish and mindless and that I can see my keys sitting in the drivers seat.
I look into my car like there was a puppy or cheesecake inside. Longing, worried.
The AAA woman said that if I thought I was foolish that she may as well be the queen of fools because she's actually locked her keys in the car while it was running.
Everyone does it, she said.
Wow, so, I'm just like everyone else now, huh.
I've joined the club.
I'm an active member.
Well, I'm the mindful yoga teacher that's about to teach a class and has apparently left her keys, mind, cheesecake and puppy in the car.
3rd, I drop something off at a friend's apartment.
Parked in front of his driveway, I dash inside. I'm sooooo speedy. This will take a few seconds then off to my thousand other things to do. I get back downstairs. Not a full minute has passed and the car won't start.
I call AAA again. They don't even need to ask my name at this point, they just send someone over.
I call the necessary angels, the teacher to sub my class, the client I need to postpone, the thousand other things that need to wait until tomorrow and tomorrow. They will all wait. Life is happening.
I look forward to teaching. I look forward to my class at Liberation. My dear friend and fabulous teacher, Michele takes the lead.
My said friend that I was dropping something off too, offers to buy me dinner and drive me home if I need.
AAA takes me to a place in Hollywood to recup my poor little car.
I'm continually amazed at how much responsibility it takes to be an adult. I don't like it. I'd like to return it for a full refund of playing on the playground and coming home in time for grilled cheese and after-school specials, thank you very much.

My clients and students are always surprised when I have something planned for class. That's what you do as a teacher. You make the plan and then you throw it out the window when you find out who shows up in the classroom or how a client is feeling that particular day.

Teaching and training is improv.

As a yoga and fitness trainer, you have to plan to be surprised. So, of course, life would hand over the same lesson to me.

I don't think it's nearly as funny, though.

Last week, 3 tires, $246.
This week, new battery and starter $400.
Teaching the AAA guy yoga while my car is being repaired and he's chain smoking cigarettes while Michelle is subbing my class less than a mile away at Liberation Yoga...
priceless.
I've never taught yoga outside, in a mechanics shop with a chain smoker before.
His legs get tight. He's on the road all day.
So am I. I give him some moves between drags.
He puts the butt out. I actually see him stretch and breathe...
in Hollywood.
My car is fixed. I'm in debt, but happy I made someone's day.
He made mine.
I didn't make class.
My lesson...
be, wherever you are.
Because wherever you are you are needed.
Wherever you are, you are supposed to be, even if it is not part of the plan, the schedule, the blackberry.
I will see you all as scheduled, tomorrow and next week...
or will I?

totally unrelated to anything yoga or cancer, but here goes...
I was in New York City. Living there, I presume.
It was a horridly gloomy and rainy day.
I was taking an acting workshop with Meryl Streep.
There were hundreds of people there. A large room with classroom style desks.
We sat there, attentive, listening to the living legend pontificate about the art of acting and living the dream.
On a break, Meryl, because that's what I call her now, pulled me aside to tell me about a new project that she was directing. She wanted me to play the lead. I accepted her offer like I would accept a latte. She handed me the script, no foam and I went to sit down and read the epic, cause that's what it was, in my dream.
I was to play a Russian peasant girl, believable.
I would have to cut my hair and dye it dark. Ok.
I would have to hire a coach. Check.
I would have to call my mother.
We resumed our workshop. The other students looked over to me with curiosity. I looked at a couple of other students that also had scripts, curiously. We whispered to each other. They had one line here, carried a parcel over there. I have the lead.
When the workshop ended the rain was still coming down. People in black came over to me to offer me schedules and information.
Then, I was alone. I sat on a banquet and called my mother. My dad picked up the phone. He said he was proud of me and handed me off to my mother. I told my mother and she said, she didn't believe it. Is this for real? Why, I asked, is it not out of the realm of possibility? Stranger things have happened? Even I, was surprised.
Can I handle the emotional content of the piece, by myself, even with the help of a coach?
Meryl thought I could. I know I can.
But I'm terrified and electrified.
I thought about myself at the Oscars.
I thought about the reviews panning me or telling me I was the new breakout star, in my 30's.
An overnightmare conflicted with
An overnight success. How many years, day, heartache I struggled waiting to get through the night and over it for this?
Success, feels good.
Failure seems, familiar.
Excitement is alive.
Just then, a man approached me to tell me it was time to go. I told my mom I would have to call her back.
I would have to brave the subway home, not a cab. I could barely afford the workshop.
The man told me that a car was waiting for me outside.
I get a car?
Just then, my alarm went off.
No!!
No, NPR, Obama, Pakistan. NO!
I wished for more sleep, more dream and the reality held within my closed eyes and subconscious meanderings.
Today.
Today, I was shooting a film.
An ultra low budget film.
An ultra low paycheck.
An ultra small part.
A super good script.
Today.
I knew I couldn't go back to sleep.
But, I was happy to move forward in awake.
Because my dream was still with me.