This past weekend, I did something pretty out of character. I found myself in a eucalyptus-scented room heated to 95 degrees with 30 other people bending myself into weird positions and wondering about all the choices I made that brought me to this place. Yep. Hot yoga. I was there on a free trial, but the other poor souls in the room had each forked out $22 for the class. While I was signing up for the class, I immediately ran through all of the things that I could do with the $66 per week that these people spend to sweat (and like, for their health and stuff).
I could have 4 dinners out in New York. Probably 5 in Las Vegas. 3 in Palo Alto. I could buy a one-way ticket from San Francisco to Las Vegas to see my family. I could buy 4 awesome dresses or two pairs of shoes that I would wear until they were threadbare.
And those are the luxury things – as for my necessities… that’s two days of rent at my current apartment. That’s my entire car insurance payment. 10 trips by car to Independence High School to teach. 33 trips on the subway. 1.5 weeks worth of groceries to feed myself.
But I really liked the hot yoga class. It made me feel refreshed, centered in my body, and clear-headed for the first time in months. I seriously hate exercising, but this class was a revelation.
Now, back to the internship: in the office, there are some jokes about how little non-profit life pays, the high rate of turnover and career changes, and how the only way people can hack it is if they’re really, really passionate… or they have a sugar daddy.
Here comes the point: I work at a non-profit. I’m probably going to work at non-profits for a large portion of my career. That’s the unpleasantly too-true description of my reality.
For a long time, I joked about how I was always going to be poor and I was okay with that. I’ve got more than my fair share of anti-capitalist sentiments, and I kind of felt like being successful but poor was going to be my lifelong F U to the system.
My revelation this week was that I am a selfish, ridiculous child and it’s time for a new plan. Am I going to subject my children to poverty so that I can have my untarnished moral high horse? Am I going to be that woman who relies on their partner to do the dirty work of being financially successful so I can pretend like I’m above it? Am I going to pretend like that view is going to work for more than the first five years out of college, and like it’s not going to end up with me inevitably “selling out” into a higher paying career, where I can afford to take hot yoga classes AND eat dinner?
That’s not the person I want to be. I want to work to help show people that this is not martyr work. It’s not the extra stuff. It’s absolutely essential and it should be a sustainable career path for those who want to give their lives to service. So… this week, I’ll be looking into non-exploitative paths for personal finance and find out how to make the absolute most of my meager resources. I’m going to find the most compassionate pathway through our capitalistic reality so that I can spend my life working all the while towards something better.
Oh yeah, and I’m signing up for a hot yoga studio in Brooklyn. It’s kind of a revolutionary act in context, right?