Bikram here and Bikram there

I fell in love with Bikram Yoga and the community it has in San Francisco and it has became an important part of life, but here in Chicago I do not feel the same energy. Approximately a year and a half ago when I was living in Sonoma California I participated in my first class. It was a unique intense and detoxifying activity to compliment my fresh west coast lifestyle. The class was challenging and it really got me high in a way I never knew before. I've done other forms of Yoga, but none quite like this. It has became an activity that I cannot see myself abandoning. Ever-since October of 2008 I haven't missed more than a week of class. When I moved from Sonoma to the near city of San Francisco I immediately located a studio where I continued my practice. I would eventually find myself doing class 7 times a week and it quickly changed my entire body. I felt totally revived and if I missed a class I would feel disappointed. I noticed changes in my balance and my posture right away. My metabolism speeded up as my stomach trimmed down. So I made it a point to include my practice in my daily routine... just as taking a shower, shaving, brushing my teeth.. I practiced Bikram. When I decided to return to the Midwest I sadly said good-bye to my studio and the owner's who became like family... I promised I'd return soon.

Here in Chicago I don't find the same sense of Bikram community. People are different and yoga takes on a different quality here. It is rather a hip yuppie activity that is granted at a dear price. Artist can't afford it in Chicago unlike San Francisco where it is heavily promoted and offered at an honest price of 4 hours of labor/per week. where you participate in the upkeep of your studio by doing laundry, maintenance, cleaning/organizing and sometimes merely checking in members. I've been attending classes for about 3 months now and only a few of the many instructors know me on a first name basis. I miss my San Francisco instructors... they are very wise and passionate. The instructors here seem like they are at "work" rather than a profession and just serving their hours to get paid and going through the rotation. I've had a few conversations with the owner of the studio and we know some of the same people in the Bikram world, but ever time he sees me he forgets who I am. During class there is no real corrections as the teachers go through there well practiced and memorized instruction.

I suppose we can again blame this on the Midwestern mentality that never seems to impress me. I've tried repeatedly to get my friends who are mostly comprised of artists and nightlife people to find passionate in this activity as I have, but they rather spend there days off drinking alcohol and sleeping. True health and fitness is never as important as a good time in Chicago and I do understand that Bikram isn't cheap, but I hate that it is only popular with the corporate snobs. God... I hate yuppies. I believe in Bikram and I think it can be more popular in Chicago as it is in San Francisco. Perhaps someday I will open my own studio and charge less... but I suppose I should first become an instructor. The studio I attend lately doesn't even have showers... but they can afford to pay janitors to clean and laundry services to clean the towels. They even charge 2$ rent a towel... and we clean our own rental mats. I dunno I suppose I just miss San Francisco. The instructors there really seem to care and they usually give you a lot of wisdom to take into your daily life that transcends farther then your practice.

San Francisco and Chicago... two differnet worlds?

I've been contemplating lately my acclimation back into the Midwest. Only been gone for a year and 3 months, but my perception of the world is forever altered. My views have curved as I for once have seen things from different altitudes. I have seen things from the outside looking in rather constantly in the middle wishing to escape to the edges of this world. Still haven't quite made it to the outer edges, but I will in time. She waits for me there far beyond my eyes have seen, across the Atlantic sea. She thinks of me for if she does not how can I believe in happiness? Yes San Francisco was different. The hippies smile and whisper love to you while the Europeans look through you. I walk down the streets in the Marina where everyone is the same and then I walk through the Haight to where the 60s lay dormant while meth heads beat the dead horse. The day can shine warm sun on many faces while the night falls upon you with chills as the streets become desolate. I find myself in the crevices of this curvy city full of hilltops and palmtrees. Everything once looked for was left in the middle of America where everything is flat, simple and you can always almost see the end of your road. Here in San Francisco I find new journeys and aspirations grow like the plant life. Here in San Francisco I find myself not only on the edge of America, but of many worlds. These worlds collide in an orgy and masturbate together behind this certain only visible to those who care dare not to inquire or value their own perceptions.

Chicago has a big heart, but an ignorance that only slaps the face of those who grow eyes beyond there home. Back in Chicago I find arms spread out and smiles that never change. There comfort is contagious... it grows on you and enchants you just when you fled you are suddenly back and the desire to run forgotten for a while. I wonder how long I will let myself be pressured by cold desperation. The snow comes and makes life hard enough to distract us from just what we were going to do tomorrow. I recall time spent in vain trying to focus on just the idea of getting established in this great city by a giant lake, but never was I really trying. How could I? I always wanted to be somewhere else, but I just didn't know where.