Namaste Miami: Resurrection Post

Photo: Tyler Hicks/The New York Times

Oh, hey there Miami Yogis! What's up? It's been a while. Like 3 years, 4 months and 12 days since we last checked in with you. So what's been going on?

Well, right after our last blog post we fell in love and got married in a castle overlooking the Ligurian sea. No shit. Then we created two genetically superior beings back to back! Two of 'em! In two years! Do the math! We haven't slept in years, but that's par for the course, eh? Ehhh?? You feel us???


Well, welcome to the 7th Series of Ashtanga Yoga. THIS is what we get for slopping through all those vinyasas for all those years. So, what brings us here, you might ask? Follow the JUMP!



Well, we are here in Miami Beach checking in from our winter casa in the 33154, getting ready to close up shop and head north for the summer and we're bored! Plus, we started brewing our own kombucha and bumped up the alcohol content to from .5%  to 5% - so needless to say our mornings have been a little fuzzy.

Lots of yoga stuffs happening. Too many studio openings to even go back and list (yay! yoga everywhere!!) and vegan restaurants are the new black (aka black hole all of your money goes into).

Oh, and just to clear things up, we were never writing this blog anonymously. You see, we had signed a non-disclosure agreement with our fancy yoga/health resort employer that was like being bound and gagged, so we really couldn't advertise ourselves on this blog. Although that would have been fun and good for the ego. Think of all the selfies we could have posted!!

And you know what they say about non-disclosures? Fucking follow them or you're getting sued. Even privileged, young, Caucasian, female yoga teachers aren't above the law for Mayurasana's sake.

But now that we are retired from our fancy health resort, and no longer under that pesky non-disclosure, hi my name is Jessie. Nice to meet you. Some of you know me, and the rest of you wish you did.