SEATED LOCUST POSEA yoga ashram is like a commune. It’s group
living for people who follow one particular spiritual
teacher and who want to immerse themselves in
their yoga practice. Most ashrams are kind of like a
summer camp, in that any layperson who wants to
can visit and learn about the teachings. Some peo-
ple commit their life to the ashram and become a
swami, which is a monk, or you can commit your-
self to it for just a short period of time.
I am the manager of the Integral Yoga Insti-
tute ashram in New York City. Our building,
which is connected to a yoga school that’s
open to the public, has twelve dorm rooms for
people who live here full time, including me. I
teach yoga, provide spiritual counseling as an
ordained interfaith minister, and do adminis-
trative duties, and in exchange I get room and
board and a clothing allowance; the other peo-
ple pay a modest room and board. We practice
yoga together and have a meeting on Friday
nights, and then the rest of the time we’re out
in the city working regular jobs. One guy here is
a waiter, another is a financial advisor and yoga
teacher, and one woman is a dance teacher.
When we have a space available, there are
plenty of people who want to move in—these
are affordable rooms in the middle of Green-
wich Village, where rents are usually sky-high.
I’m known as the gatekeeper, because it’s my
job to let people live here only if they really,
really want to commit to the ashram lifestyle. If
somebody expresses interest, I say, “Why don’t
you start coming to classes for a year and then
talk to me again?” When you live in the ash-
ram, you have to wake up every morning at six
for meditation. When I first moved in, my initial
thought was, “I could never do that,” but now
I’m doing it every day.