Flying home. Back in studio 3/1/22. Gonna miss Mom & Dad, but looking forward to seeing *you*.

The Yoga Club’s very first ad will be right here.

When I first started coming to DC, I would go to a little coffee house at 22nd and P (love to Soho!) to hang out, spending time reading all of my favorite (read: free + edgy) DC newspapers— The Blade, the City Paper... and Pathways.

Each of these publications has struggled to stay in print over the last 10 years. I likely don’t need to tell y’all about the rapidly changing face of media— and how it has adversely impacted queer journalism, alt-newspapers, and trade-zines.

For y’all that haven’t been here for 30 years, lemmie tell ya: Pathways is the OG DC natural living/holistic health trade publication. Last year, Pathways didn’t have a print publication (due largely to the pandemic... and the changing landscape of readership).

One of the reasons i love DC so much is precisely because i was able to find my tribe— and so much of that is due to publications like this. Who knew that the local publications i loved growing up I’d eventually get to work with?

We went with Pathways first because it’s owned by my bestie’s bestie— and you know I love family owned and friend-ran.

For 7 years, my yoga program, DC Ashtanga, was fiercely independent and grassroots — and while we remain firmly non-commercial, the Yoga Club (my new practice space) wants to help others find community while also supporting and elevating others in our community.

While DC ashtanga will remain a grassroots practice group (as it always has been), we’re now proudly in residence in our new home at theyoga.club, and it is a pro ledge to help Pathways relaunch in print, so that other little woo woo gays can find a copy... and a tribe.

So much "can't erase history" stuff, and I am gonna take it on face value that y'all don't really understand ( a VERY charitable read rn).

Lemmie break this down for ya:

Say you came over and put a statue up in my front yard-- one that was in the image of the men who have verbally and physically assaulted me over the years. How do you think it would make me feel?

Now, lets make it spicy: that statue, lets say it was built to highlighting the virtuousness of the men who harassed, hospitalized, and hurt me?

Do you think I'd wanna come home? Do you think I'd wanna be anywhere near it?

Would you like to see the face of your tormenters every day comin' and goin? "History is history" really feels like "suffer, bitch."

Jenny is an incredible educator and friend. Here's her note home to her 4th grade.

I drew a line in the sand a few years ago to no longer hold close to my heart those who could not hold my community in their own. What community?

"Other." The marginalized. My community lives in a second America.

If you want to make America great, it means dismantling systems of oppression. That starts at home, with you.

Dear White folks, Straight folk,Christians.

Give this a read, tell me what you think.

https://sojo.net/articles/our-white-friends-desiring-be-allies

What does it mean to go to a place like Ecuador in order to create and participate in economy? And how does one do that in a respectable, regenerative, respectful way?

Ask Kristen.

She and her partner Juan are growing cacao and heirloom cacao in a regenerative food forest with zero waste.

The optics in this post hit close to home.

I try not to dress up in a costume for the purposes of selling you the product of yoga. I can’t actually sell yoga yoga— and sell you my time.

My time as a practitioner, a seeker, a student, and a finder. And as a yoga facilitator/teacher/guide, it’s why you don’t see me in my dhoti very often... And why i tend to only wear my mala when I meditate.

There are so many ways to signal your desire to be seen as aspirational— biceps and bindis and baba harem pants. Andean throws. The thing is, when you have something valuable to share, you want to share it.

When you have devoted your life to something, you hope that you can make enough money to keep devoting your life to it. And, you might even try to sell the image of the thing using appropriators prints.

It’s a tricky thing... this authenticity piece. I love that Kristen and Juan encourages folks to make of all of it what you will.

In the mean time... should I teach you to handstand, shirtless?

A 30-Minute Yoga Class Helping to undue whatever it is that work from home has done to your shoulders and back!!

Ready for another 30 minute live stream for undoing all that pesky work-from-home-ing in the upper back and shoulders? See ya tomorrow at 730am in the Balance Gym Facebook page!

117 homeless Washingtonians have died in the last year. This is up more than 100% compared to the previous last year.

2 million dollars was spent on an art installation designed to keep homeless people out of an underpass— not for safety, but because of community aesthetics.

The building the crew club is in on 14th street sold for 2 million.

I’m all for public art commissions— but c’mon. We can hang shitty LED lights, but not help our most vulnerable at the very least stay safe from the elements?

How much housing can 2 million buy?

https://www.yogajournal.com/practice/a-sequence-for-political-resilience

About ten years ago, i set a goal for myself to be on the cover of yoga journal. Today, i made it to the homepage.

10 years in, I think that's about right. Time and dreams change. Markers of success evolve.

Back then, I imagined that my perfect form and smiling face would make a valuable representation -- and mark an internal validation.

As practice is wont to, I eventually had a realization: I could do better. I wanted to share something more substantive than just form. The marker for validation had shifted dramticay.

I wanted to share some part of what practice had shared with me-- something that has helped me grow and thrive and that I have seen do the same for others time and time again.

Well, here we are. I talk about resilience. I share a modified primary series. I tried to use explicit language so as to maximize value and minimize confusion. .

I'm honored and thrilled. Simply in existing, it represents those who might feel marginalized.

I'm out, I'm queer, and I'm big. I'm a yoga practitioner. What I've shared is what I know to be a powerful and potent practice steeped in tradition and that has a veracious efficacy.

I hope you find it useful, for yourself or for others

https://www.yogajournal.com/practice/a-sequence-for-political-resilience

About ten years ago, i set a goal for myself to be on the cover of yoga journal. Today, i made it to the homepage.

10 years in, I think that's about right. Time and dreams change. Markers of success evolve.

Back then, I imagined that my perfect form and smiling face would make a valuable representation -- and mark an internal validation.

As practice is wont to, I eventually had a realization: I could do better. I wanted to share something more substantive than just form. The marker for validation had shifted dramticay.

I wanted to share some part of what practice had shared with me-- something that has helped me grow and thrive and that I have seen do the same for others time and time again.

Well, here we are. I talk about resilience. I share a modified primary series. I tried to use explicit language so as to maximize value and minimize confusion. .

I'm honored and thrilled. Simply in existing, it represents those who might feel marginalized.

I'm out, I'm queer, and I'm big. I'm a yoga practitioner who shares a powerful and potent practice steeped in tradition and that has a veracious efficacy.

I hope you find it useful, for yourself or for others

At 10am, I'm previewing the new residence of DC Ashtanga with whomever would like to come practice. The Eaton Workshop's wellness center is located at 1201 K St NW-- and if you didnt get an email about it, consider yourself invited.

The comments give me faith in god above.

creating false dichotomies and clinging to societal standards is further sealing the cracks in the proverbial box where the air can come in. the air the keeps you from pretending that the world isn’t burning and that any kind of exploration on unboxing won’t get you killed. At your church, your synagogue, your discotech, your yoga studio, running up 12th street, or coming home from a restaurant opening in eckington.

It's 75° warmer here than at home and I’m still a little too cold. 🤔❄️😂

A Chechniyan popstar was tortured and killed by his government for being gay. Too close to home for my tastes.

My home girl speaking real talk Truth right here.

Sitzler is my home girl. We yammer for hours: big picture, personal/intimate, Yoga, and life. I haven't listened yet, but sure as heck will, she always has something insightful to say.

Maybe the cicada is my spirit animal? Some of y'all are monarchs, others painted ladies-- that's well and good.

"They have an exceptionally loud song. Most cicadas are cryptic, singing at night to avoid predators. The periodic cicadas spend most of their lives as underground nymphs, emerging only after 13 or 17 years, which may reduce losses by starving their predators and eventually emerging in huge numbers which overwhelm and satiate any remaining predators.

Cicadas have been featured in literature since the time of Homer's Iliad, and as motifs in art from the Chinese Shang dynasty. They have been used in myths and folklore to represent carefree living and immortality."

This hits home.

Had whiskey and a kiki -- came home and ordered snail mucus 🐌 -- this is 34 (almost!)

Thoroughly enjoyed "Champion," an opera in Jazz based on the real life experiences of a 50's champion welterweight fighter who just so happened to be queer... And killed a man in the ring. http://m.kennedy-center.org/home/event/orosd

I'm having an incredible time, don't get me wrong... But I'm so ready to be home. I love and miss my friends and blood/yoga/work family. xxoo

Sending all of my heart and soul home to the citizens of my beloved District. Be strong, be kind, and take no shit. ⭐️⭐️⭐️

My Christmas tree will be up when I get home... On Valentine's Day.

Three one-on-one sessions this week in my beautiful home practice space. What a wonderful way to share the practice.

Home life.

Home.

I missed our home. 3 years later, we're back. #patiencepaysoff

So glad to be home! At @amayanaomi house hanging with Gus & Charlie.

India to home. Japanese trees smile at me. Spring in the District.

Retweeted Michael Roike (@BarManMichael):

He's home! @michaeljoelhall

I love my monkey friends. I'll be home soon-- with bananas.

Many blessings are there. Coming home with prayer scrolls for #chamundishwari

Let's make momos when I get home! @Barmanmichael

Home safe!

"There is a small baby animal living in my home that depends on me," rings in my head as my heart swells with love.

4:30am: MJH gets ready to leave for work. MR has been home and asleep for a short period of time after arriving home from work.
2:30pm: Roike gets ready to leave for work. MJH has been asleep for a short period of time after arriving home from work.

Nothing says real pride like celebrating friends & family and finishing with dinner at home.

Between the so-so hair day and the 10 o'clock shadow, I look a bit homeless. *shrugs*

Michael Roike is the bestest. Yesterday, he manned the front desk so I could teach at the White House. Today, I left my keys at home and had to hide my bike in some bushes. While i taught, he brought my keys, found my bike, and locked up. The BEST! I love you, shmoopy!

I'm a little worried about my flight home & the impending storm. The mat will likely be carry on.

The scooter is leaking gas. Coasted home-ish. This will make for an interesting tomorrow.

Off to led primary, and missing my students at home. Love love love.

Physical therapist was just shy of unbearable. Dr Akash found all the spots & gave me homework. Can't wait get to work!

Pop Francis continued: “A person once asked me, in a provocative manner, if I approved of homosexuality. I replied with another question: ‘Tell me: when God looks at a gay person, does he endorse the existence of this person with love, or reject and condemn this person?’”

“This church with which we should be thinking is the home of all,” he said, “not a small chapel that can hold only a small group of selected people.”

just finished scooping homemade frozen yogurt for a post David Garrigues-taught Mysore snack. Maybe I'll share a bite.

I'm home, but my contacts are gone. Go figure.

Finished my final practice at the Shala for this go 'round; carried Butternaan the Shala Dog out like a princess. Nava-- go home, take rest.

Found the perfect plug-in light up Ganesh alter at the Fancy Gift Shop (FANCY!). Took him home, elated. He caught fire. I think it was arson (*sideeyes roike*)

Home sweet home. Back in my apartment from last season. Oh, so happy.

Mysore Thanksgiving was a total treat. To my friends back home, embrace the attitude of gratitude... I know you'll forgive the platitude.

Oh, Mother India, I missed you deeply. Thanks for welcoming me home.

I was attacked and hospitalized this year for being gay. My partner was refused from the hospital. He spent the night alone scared *I* might die alone. I did, too. This election year, there is a gentleman asking for your vote who believes we do not deserve equal rights-- including being together in the hospital. In the ever-after. Nor fiscally. I ask you to please not think of your wallets at the ballot, but of your hearts. Could you let your husband die alone? Mitt Romney would say that I deserve to die that way-- and I can't elect him. I hope that you cannot either. If you love me (or love your spouse) I ask that you pause and reflect on morals and compassion. I have never been so scared in my entire life as I was in that night-- alone. Please know that your vote goes beyond laissez-faire notions of capitalism and concerns of modified socialism and hits me directly at home. A vote for Mitt Romney will bolster an opportunity to strip me of civil rights, and I pray that your heart won't allow that. If you can in good conscience and faith elect an official who will allow me to die alone with a catheter but no solace, may peace be with you. I cannot. There is no tax break worth my humanity or my husband's tears. I pray that the reality of that notion means that you cannot either. If it doesn't, however, I wish you a moment of reckoning. Again, may peace be with you.

Take me home.

3 Practices Days. 2 Lift Days. 1 5-miler. An apartment to call home. An out pouring of friendship and love.

100% Homemade paleo picnic: almond butter ants on a log, sunflower flax crackers, waldorf salad, n'oatmeal raisin cookies.

Time to leave Sneaky Welcome Home Staycation and return to practice and principles. Ekam, inhale.

aaaaaaaaand the coming home dreams have started. In this one: I left my copy of "Anatomy of Hatha Yoga" in India. Anyone think this is telling?

Off to be lovingly walked all over by the Three Sisters (ayervedic massage). Obv I miss my sisters and wives back home.

I've wanted to do a coco fast for years (since I came home from Mexico with Giardia)-- four day fast starts tomorrow. I cannot believe I'm excited for such a thing.

Puja Sardana better show me where to get good Indian hair oil when I get home.

Reading up on homebrew 'four lokos'. I woke up for practice, refresed, at 2:30. Which sentence is more absurd?

Trip to market combined with sari hunting == long walk home to Gokulum exploring. Thats one way to kill an afternoon. oof.

YES!!! My girl Puja owns a home!!!!!!! Agh! SO proud!

Navigating Mysore City is a daunting task. Fear not, with a copilot like Antonella, I fared well. The haul? A stove-top coffee maker, fisherman's pants, and "gym vests" (aka 4 bright and shiny tank tops) in hand. A warning: I am going to come home dressed like a yogi (I have a custom pair of 3/4 length pants being made). I am not done.

So filled with love. Exhausted, home, and happy. My family just got a bit bigger. 🙂

According to this e-ticket, I'll be home in April.

The plan: a run to the Jefferson Memorial, do primary overlooking Rosslyn, run home. Lets see how this goes 🙂

2 things: 1) "Those are some hot pants, mmhmm," said the homeless-ish gentleman nicely (if twitchingly). 2) The guy on the courtesy call today sounded hot & on my team. Conclusion: I love the compliment and i also wanted to hollar at a telemarketer. Me=crazy

did Mysore away from "home" for the first time. 🙂

to go to New York and see the Scissor Sisters, or to save my pennies and have a wild night home? Will someone dress up and pretend with me?

Anyone got a truck that can help me haul these carpets home?

is Ho Ho Home!

raise your hand if you came home with no phone last night. I'll start.

5 Homelsss Elmos...

Welcome home my love.

I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home. I keep dancing on my own.

is too sore to practice yoga, but bottomless mimosa at red rocks should be fine. I'm leaving the MichaelCycle at home.

is on his way to DC's Clean And Sober Streets running club. Running taught me perseverance and how to practice achievement-- heres hoping I can share that with DC's homeless population. Or at least give a little yoga to 'em.

ran 5.5 before leaving to teach. 90 minute vinyasa upon my return home. If anyone would like to practice with me from 3-4:30, you're welcome to. Core and inversion work, fwiw.

is home from New Jersey, safe and sound. Now onto Sunday Funday with the decorations committee of Happy New Years: Wake Up Again for 2010 (you're going to be there on NYE, riiiiiiight?)

had cold Gino's East deep dish for breakfast & is waiting for his flight home.

is working from home all afternoon.

's on his way home to the district. I'd rather be on a boat than a bus, but heck, it'll be on & poppin' in the Dirty D soon.

is home from the class reunion. SO. MUCH. FUN.

is really proud of these United States of America (and his hometown went blue!)

was just told by a homeless man that he looks like John McCain

is disturbed at the graffiti next to his home that seems to be targeted at him

home again, but still sans phone

home again, home again.