One problem that arises with opting out of posting for over a year is the fact that so much information hasn't come through the mainline. One of the most salient bits of info is the fact that I've recently sold my yoga studio. I'm about 6 weeks into my studio-lessness, and I do believe I made the right decision. The new owner, Jen, takes to the job with just as much passion and determination as I did. And what's most improved at Tapas is the fact that she's much more outgoing than I am, so she works constantly to keep the place full of her own warm vibe. My vibe's warm too, but definitely quieter. She believes in selling herself as much as selling the place, and there's merit in her assumptions. A business that small really must invest itself somewhat in having good characters in place. Jen's contagious warmth is part of what will sell the studio, b/c most folks looking to do yoga in that neighborhood are looking for a place of community. They want to be pampered, amused, inspired, catered to. Jen's good at doing all those things.

But what's the "but" here? Well, although I've certainly burned out on planning, teaching too much, running payroll and other mind-numbing admin tasks -- and I am quite happy not to fret about the low financial returns on all that work -- I feel a bit adrift now without my little ship to captain. I feel like I've lost a bit of my own direction, my moorings, my "something important" to contribute to New Orleans. Teaching college freshmen is fine, but hardly as rewarding and "in the big picture" important as bringing physical and mental well-being to adult women. My daily cohorts are largely self-interested and self-important, inexperienced if at times charmingly so. The job is fine, but it just doesn't feel... significant. And I'm not sure how to change that.

Maybe pregnancy invites reflection. Maybe I'm reflective naturally. I don't know. But I find myself sort of floating through New Orleans at this point, irritated at the general failure of this city not to bloom up into something brighter post-K. Feels like NOLA has simply come back to itself; feels like I'm not helping its progress anymore; feels like the same tired issues (crime, poverty, inept government, low quality of life) keep plaguing the same tired place. Did you know that 2 young boys shot 5 people at Endymion on Saturday night? The victims suffered only surface wounds, but the shooting took place on Canal Street! Right at the edge of the Quarter! Ridiculous!! And these days, crime seems to have ticked up so much. I get lots of emails through Loyola about incidents in the university area (which is also where I live now). It reminds me of the crime waves when I was in college, when everyone I knew (including myself) had some sort of mugging or major personal theft story to relate.

When I left New Orleans for Montana, I never meant to come back. And now that I'm pregnant, I just can't see how I can raise my kids here. I love these old houses, my friends and the proximity to my family, but I also feel like this city is the pits. Where are the public swimming pools, the outdoor recreation, the recycling programs, the safety to be outside in your front yard -- those quality of life elements that I've loved in several other places? The other day, we went to a neighborhood association meeting, and the invited guest was someone talking about putting bike paths in place in NOLA. Temporarily, I got so excited. But as the guest talked, I started to hear the same old soundtrack. More studies need to be run before the bike lanes can be implemented. No bikes lanes will be painted on streets till those streets are re-paved. Having lived here for quite some time, I know that'll be several years. Sheesh. But -- the speaker did say that his organization has come up with a nice sign to post along bike paths that'll have a fleur de lis on it. Great. So we have the facade of change happening without any actual change.

Sometimes I'm hopeful. I was excited that Bobby Jindal was elected governor -- and I'm not a republican by any stretch of the imagination. The democratic candidates were just republicans in democrats' clothing though -- all good ole boys with same ole plans. More hope -- Baton Rouge is coming along, making some nice strides in redeveloping its downtown. Downtown looked more alive than it had in years when I drove down there one night in December. But our fair city? I just can't see the sunlight. I sit inside alot, actually, because there's not much that I want to do. I have a lovely yoga community that I enjoy, but I'm waiting for the second trimester till I can return to class. And I have other friends in the mind-body arena, like my friend Shannon who just opened her own bellydance studio, who are working to pump new life into the city. But when's the city going to step up? When will we get recycling back? When will the crime taper off? When will recreation become as much a priority around here as drinking?

For the spring, I look forward to gardening and having a crawfish boil, and I'm a little bit looking forward to going to the Quarter dressed up tomorrow. But even gardening, parties and masquerades can't seem to solve this bigger issue, this sustained disappointment with my city. Some of my friends and coworkers still feel an intense love for this place -- I hear them talk about it. I used to feel that too, but I don't anymore. When I think about NOLA these days, it's with a sinking feeling of resignation. I'm really not sure how to solve the issue. I have a great job, good friends and close family. I don't want to leave that. But feeling adrift like this, I find that a terrible isolation creeps in, in the midst of all that I've always known and felt connected to.