Naming My Space

The room was left unused for so long that I've spent some time trying to figure out why I didn't use a gift that elicited such an emotional response.

I moved to Park City, Utah in April 2006. Prior to the move, I lived in Oak Park, California and attended the business school at Pepperdine University (Malibu campus). My life revolved around yoga and school. I was content and the monkey-mind was quiet.

My "home" studio was Sacred Movement, located mere blocks away from Venice Beach. Sure, parking was a pain in my side, especially during the summer months, but immediately upon crossing the threshold of the studio a wave of calm always washed over me.

The atmosphere? Fresher. The patrons? Nicer. The studio format was well designed (well-lit with natural lighting) and easy on the eyes (subtle colors and open spaces). The teaching skill was better suited to my needs than I had experienced elsewhere.

After savasana, I would shower in the ladies' room and go on my way and more often than not, as a better person than I was when I walked in the studio. Reverence for myself and others - that was the overall feeling. It's interesting, given I have always been the type that walks away from a church feeling blase (at best) or uncomfortable (at worst).

I moved to Park City. Since, I haven't been able to re-create the feeling despite sampling many of the local studios. And I miss it.

So, this year, I decided if I couldn't find it elsewhere, I was going to manufacture the environment myself. Given I've always harbored this dream that one fine day I would be running my own studio to share yoga with others, I decided to fashion a mini-studio out of the forgotten loft. Practice makes perfect.

To get rid of the pedestrian feeling of the room, I decided to name it. "Sacred Movement" is more appealing than "that yoga studio in Venice", right? I named it the "Ethereal Room", hoping that one day, the room would emit characteristics of light, air, space, and maybe just a little bit of heaven on Earth.