The floors of the studio are the original floors of the Chace Mill.
In places the floorboards are uneven. There are gaps. Some of the floor boards are cracked. In the unevenness, the gaps and the cracks lives the history of the building. Those who worked in the Mill years ago walked on these floors. Men and women, children, animals and now yogis are imprinted in the texture of the floor. Our decision to keep the original floors was intentional.
The wood was most likely milled nearby. Covering with bamboo might look clean and polished but it would cover the natural, raw beauty of the original floors. It’s like putting a layer over our suffering, and pretending it’s not there. As a yoga teacher and practitioner I seek truth. I want to know the rugged, unfinished and messy parts of myself and, honestly, I am tired of covering it up and pretending that life is clean.
Life is messy. The ground can be rocky.
Our original floors remind us of this true nature within us. We don’t have to be afraid of our gaps, our wounds, our history. It’s what makes us who we are. Our intimacy with this part of our selves naturally uncovers the beauty that lies within it.
The next time you come to practice take a moment and appreciate the floors. The years that they have held people up. Their reliability. The wisdom that comes with time. Their willingness to hold the naked truth.