I came to this event last year because I was curious, it sounded like a cool, slightly crazy, very New York thing to do. And hey, free yoga! But what I left with was a sense of having communed with the most important yoga teacher and guru in my life—the city itself.

The city-as-teacher has many guises. It doesn’t wear flowing saffron robes or stretchy yoga clothes, but it does embody and teach yoga, which, you probably know, means union. Buddhist author Pema Chodron said the best teacher will be “the greatest troublemaker in your life.” And her guru said, “the job of the spiritual friend is to insult you.” On this front, New York does not disappoint.

This city constantly stimulates and provokes us with its dramatic extremes—devastating poverty and mind-blowing wealth. It’s got the Met and peepshows; devoted community activists and Donald Trump; Pure Food and Wine and The Olive Garden. It’s exhilarating and exhausting, and regularly kicks our ass with success and failure, kindness and indifference or cruelty. We use our intellect to navigate, but also our primal instincts. Lately it even seems like we’re either freezing or sweltering.

Being a native of this island, I’ve internalized a lot of these dualities: It's like one side of my brain is helmed by Woody Allen and the other side is operated by the Dalai Lama. And they argue. A lot.

Though both competing voices can be helpful guides, neither kvetchy Alvie Singer or an always-benevolent Lama are who I am. And those voices are not who any of us are. The city teaches us that to ultimately thrive here, to be happy, to feel free and yet connected, we need to go to our essence-- the core part of us that isn’t affected by extremes.

New York City author Henry Miller once said, “New York has a trip-hammer vitality which drives you insane with restlessness if you have no inner stabilizer. “

The inner stabilizer is getting in touch with our essence. And since I believe that our essence is ultimately love (the Woody Allen part of me just seriously rolled his eyes), I think we need to do all we can to stoke, nurture, and reveal the loving part of ourselves.

The key to surviving this crazy place is being in our heart, being kind, and always returning to that calm center—the internal version of a yoga class in Times Square. There are endless ways we can remind ourselves to do that. Here are a few that I’ve picked up over the years.

1) Always go through a park instead of around it. Take the trees and the dirt and grass and squirrels, and the overall natural aliveness deep into your cells.

2) Smile. Though I recommend actual lips-turned-up smiling, even just internally, energetically smiling at people with a soft, gentle gaze—can absolutely transform your experience of New York. Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh said, “If in our daily life we can smile, if we can be peaceful and happy, not only we, but everyone will profit from it. This is the most basic kind of peace work." But he understands the value of “fake it till you make it,” because he also said: “Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.”

3) Don’t run for lights. Take the red light moment—even if there are no cars—to do a mini open-eye meditation. Take a few deep breaths and take in your surroundings.

4) Do small nice things, especially when you don’t feel like it. Open doors, give up your seat, your place in line, the last sesame bagel. Tell people when their bags are open, when their shirt tags are hanging out.

5) Cultivate a meditation and/or yoga practice. A lot you you probably know this, but It helps us clear the brush from the passage to that calm, still, love-essence place so we can visit frequently.

6) Be grateful. When you feel yourself going off the rails on a crowded, warm subway, make yourself come up with three things you’re grateful for.

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The Meditation Part

Now, if you would, we’ll do a brief meditation to bring awareness to both yourself and you in the city.

Close your eyes. Notice your breath. Without trying to change it, notice how it feels moving in and out of your nostrils and lungs. Is it constricted and shallow? Open and smooth? Just feel it for a moment. Don’t judge.

Scan your body, do a sweep from your toes to your scalp, feeling where you’re open, closed, neutral, warm, cold. Feel your feet, calves, knees thighs, pelvis, belly, chest, heart, hands, arms, neck, jaw, face, scalp, hair.

Take three deep, even breaths. In for 4 seconds, out for 5 seconds

Now become aware of your center, the core of you, where all your energy centers emanate from. From your sitz bones to your crown. Feel your breath moving up and down your spine. Feel your heart. Breathe into your heart. Shower your body with gentle awareness without judgment.

Listen. What do you hear? There’s the traffic and horns, another level of hum. And then there are your own thoughts, do their thing—maybe in response to the sounds. Just let them be.

And beneath that, maybe you can hear the space between the sounds, the silence underneath the noise. Keep breathing.

What do you smell? Exhaust? Roasted peanuts? Your neighbor’s essential oils or body odor? Your own? Keep breathing, slowly, gently.

Sense your skin—feel where you end and the city begins. What does the air feel like on your skin? Where do you start to merge with it? Can you feel the part of this place beyond the billboards and the cars and stores? The natural air of the city? The sky?

I have a yogi psychiatrist friend who recently told me she feels deeply held by the city. Which may seem odd, but I think I know what she means. See if you can feel the warmth, the nurturing, the underlying love-energy of the city and let yourself, for a moment, be held by it.

Go back to your breath, become aware of it, bring your attention again to that core of you, your spine, your center, your heart. Sending breath up and down, from your seat to your crown, to the sky. Take another deep, even breath in and out.

Slowly, slowly open your eyes, but keep your gaze soft, as if you are looking through your heart. Stay in the calm space in the nucleus, the center of the city and yourself.

Turn to your closest neighbor and look into his or her eyes with a smile, and nod a gentle acknowledgment.

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The End Part

I’ll leave you with these words from another of my favorite gurus, Ani DiFranco: “I can't wait to get back to New York City where at least when I walk down the street, no one ever hesitates to tell me exactly what they think of me.” Try to make those words kind--to yourself and each other.

Thank you so much. Namaste.