On Being Kind To Yourself

Last night we went out with one of my friends from college, T. We started out at Diablo Royale in the Village. I think I wrote about this place a few weeks ago when my our friend M--of burning man fame--was visiting from SF. Interesting Mexican place. Fish tacos and the like. Good blood orange margaritas and this funky drink called a ricky--half frozen margarita and half dos equis. (I know: sounds gross, but actually isn't bad.) Anyhoo, after our meal and a pitcher of regular old margaritas, we went to a bunch of other bars, like The Other Room and some place I don't remember the name of...

Suffice it to say I felt a little--shall we say sluggish--this morning. So I didn't make it to the regular vinyasa-style yoga class I normally take on Saturday mornings. Lucky for me there was a basic class at noon led by one of my all-time faves, Rachel Feinberg.

I haven't taken a class this basic in a really long time. There was this extended warm-up and a truncated surya namaskar a and b series and for like a half second I was kind of dissappointed--in myself, not Rachel. (I could have gotten up in time for the more vigorous class, couldn't I?)

But then, the more I settled into the breathing and the gentle poses the more I realized that this class was EXACTLY what I needed today. And that maybe I should try every once in a while jsut relaxing into my life instead of always trying so hard, pushing so hard at everything.

A little kindness, you know?

Anyway. We're meeting R.'s dad and his wife L for dinner later tonight. His sister LL's tagging along, too. And since we always go to some fab new restaurant, I'm sure I'll have something exciting to report. (LL prides herself on being on the cutting edge of the newest and hippest eateries in Manhattan. She worked as a hostess at Balthazar back when Balthazar was the shit and ever since then she's more or less got a manicured nail on the pulse.)