Boulder Hopping through the Pandemic
I’ve always hiked mountains. With the exception of the years spent in Chicago, I’ve always found a way to get up there, closer to the clouds. But this Summer I’ve really caught the bug. I have deeply craved the high peaks of the NH Whites and have carved whole days of freedom so I could hit the trail in the very early morning and get ahead of the crowds. My reward has been peaks that are essentially empty of other people. This satisfies my deep hunger for intimacy with the natural, majestic world.
About 3 weeks ago I did the Lafayette Ridge Loop, a spectacular 9ish mile hike that offers unequaled views from the ridge.
My intention on this particular day was to ponder a difficult question regarding the studio, and try to come to some sort of decision. What I quickly realized was that my mind and my attention were utterly compelled by the moment-to-moment of the climb. The vision and musical bubbling of the river that runs alongside the trail and which the trail crosses at several points, and thereafter the steep grade of the climb….I didn’t have bandwidth to really grapple mentally with any decision making other than where to next place my foot.
And this, I think, is why I’m so compelled to hike right now. The steeper and rockier the trail, the better. It’s a meditation in every sense, step by step. And I’m reminded on reflection, that this is all that I am doing now. Each decision—close the physical studio, get a zoom account, teach online, create a showcase of recorded classes, offer classes outside when possible—they’ve all just been that next heave ho up a rock or across a fast moving stream. See the boulder, step, haul, repeat. I don’t have a grand master plan. How could I? This is maybe where the analogy falls apart because there is a master plan to a mountain hike. Up the mountain I go but I know with certainty (well, barring weather) that the reward is a stunning and vast view of 50 or 75 miles, a view that makes my heart go pitter patter and not (only) from physical exertion.
Friends, I don’t know yet what the long view for Upper Valley Yoga is. I have not come to conclusions on my trekking adventures, but I have recognized that I am doing the very best that I can in hopping the boulders through what for many small businesses is kind of a sucky time, if I’m honest. I do love many things about this time. I never knew I could get over my own issues enough to be ok in front of a camera. I did. I never knew our online yoga would work so well for so many people. It does. And I'm grateful I am able to keep things going with the online format.
So, the studio will continue. But, I can no longer pay my very steep rent on the WRJ space. I just can’t swing it without wearing myself to the bone with too, too much teaching. Though it seems hypocritical to say I need rest, and then bop out of bed at 4 to go and hike 10 miles straight up and straight down, I truly do need respite from planning and teaching so many classes.
My landlord and I have entered an agreement whereby I can suspend paying rent and in return he can advertise and show the space to prospective tenants. If he finds someone willing to sign a lease, I have first right of refusal to resume paying rent and keep the space. If I choose to release the space at that point, then I find my next boulder and haul myself up. I have some really nice options for renting space by the class and I have every intention of teaching in person classes again. I absolutely look forward to teaching inside and in person. I can’t wait, in fact. Well…you know what I mean. Wait we all must, because I believe it is irresponsible and dangerous to rush things on that front.
I’m sharing this information because already rumors have circled back my way about the space. I have this fantasy that nobody will rent it (who would take that on anyway right now?) and that 6 months down the line I can swing the fixed monthly expense and we’re back in business, as they say. Will that happen? Who knows. Honestly, who knows anything right now. So in the meantime, online classes are humming along but taking a hit with the nicer weather. And while the weather is THIS gorgeous, outside yoga has been so fun, and really deeply moving for me, and just….so great. But we know it’s fleeting. Blink and the leaves are russet and amber. Blink again and the snow is flying. We know how that goes. Plus, soon it will be dark in the late afternoon. It’s just the way things roll up here in New England.
I do hope you will continue to take online classes, to tell friends about UVY, to come to outside classes and online classes. I have felt your love and appreciation throughout and it sustains me, so thank you for that, and for the emails and texts. We will get through this together.
I love teaching and am grateful for the teachers who are sharing that privilege with me on this adventure, and to all of you who are hopping boulders right along with me.
Thank you. Thank you.
Love,
Leslie
