I was fortunate to be one of 16,000 yogis who participated in yesterday’s Summer Solstice in Times Square. It was great fun. I grew up in the Bronx. I still remember when Times Square was filled with prostitutes outside the nude peep shows with my mom holding my hand and dragging me along. Times have really changed. And yet in some ways they haven’t.
I practiced behind a mother and daughter. The daughter appeared to be in her 20s. She may have been a yoga teacher or just had a regular practice. I couldn’t help but notice every time she adjusted her mother or looked at her form. It was so sweet. It made me wonder if my Mom would have practiced with me. Would I have dragged her to take a class with me?
This isn’t the first time this has happened. I see mother and daughter yogis all the time. When I was at Kripalu, I saw a few. Once, a mother and daughter took my class. During savasana, final relaxation pose, I walked around doing soothing adjustments. My heart stopped when I came to them. They were holding hands. The mom was crying. I cried too.
I thought about my Mom and sent her loving thoughts. I will never stop missing her. But I returned to the present moment and continued my practice.