Sacred Cow

This post is about nothing. This post is about everything. This post takes place in our city. But it could happen anywhere.

A young man rises in the moonlight bathing the room he shares with his girlfriend, an early love. They look out the bay window beyond the sparse conifer hedge and birch trees, where scores of men and women—shrouded in black—mill around the neighbor’s lawn, candles flickering.

Settled afterward in Washington, D.C., they leave behind those sorts—until the discovery of a cancer afflicting the city, a burgeoning arts community whose adherents worship false gods and follow blindly an ideology that presents itself in digestible chunks, to be consumed by Visa and MasterCard once or twice weekly by self-selecting members of the elite.

With a Bachelor’s degree in humanities and aspirations of graduate school, the typical adherent to this ancient Vedic tradition hails from the middle and upper-middle classes of white America. They may be seen boarding subway trains early on Saturday morning or disembarking late in the workday, rolled foam mats—purple or pink with swirls—slung across their backs, like a rifle on a soldier. With the music turned low, one may hear them chattering on the train or on the street.

“For the past several years, I’ve studied under Kimberly Wilson,” one says to another. “I used to study under David Thompson, in Baltimore.”

One of the most prominent local gurus and self-styled “tranquil chick,” Kimberly Wilson has for years served the city as the proprietor of Tranquil Space, with locations in Dupont Circle (the mother ship), Bethesda, Md., and Arlington, Va. Declared by the Washington Post in 2005 to be the city’s “best yoga studio,” Tranquil Space bills itself, too, as “among the top 25 yoga studios in the world”—presumably besting countless studios in India, a land with nearly a billion Hindus, home of the sacred cow and the downward dog.

Aside from a busy class schedule and training sessions for instructors, Kimberly Wilson also offers her following of hip, tranquil chicks a plethora of events and retreats, in addition to “mentoring” services—something that combines the wishes and hopes of the young, educated white woman into a unified field theory of city living. For $150 per hour, Kimberly Wilson offers “client-driven” personal mentoring services to those inspired by her self-published book (Hip Tranquil Chick), focusing on personal and professional growth “on and off the mat.”

On a pink background devoid of any testosterone-driven capital letters, Kimberly Wilson’s Web site offers testimony to the benefits adherents may receive while working on the mat and, as it were, on the couch. “[M]any clients have been inspired by [K]imberly’s entrepreneurial spirit and would like her insights into a proposed business venture. [W]omen have also approached [K]imberly for her guidance on becoming more creative or deepening their on the mat experience.”

With a Master’s degree in women’s studies and a black belt in relationships, Kimberly Wilson intends the Vinyasa yoga experience of Tranquil Space to represent not just a chic affectation but a comprehensive lifestyle choice, as instructors encourage “yogis” to linger after class over tea and cookies to discuss whatever inane cognitions might be flickering momentarily through their animal minds.

Upon reading of Kimberly Wilson, I gain sudden and total understanding—an epiphany, if you will—of Al Qaeda and African Americans. I know now why they hate us. And it is not for our freedom.

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Hip Tranquil Chick ("hip-tra[ng]-kw&l-'chik), n., A woman who weaves her practice of yoga and love of all things fabulous into a hip and tranquil lifestyle. A hip tranquil chick juggles a busy life with grace, gives of her resources, puts her best face (and foot) forward, nurtures herself with compassionate care, exudes her signature style, and lights up the room with her presence. She weaves all of these great characteristics rolled into one fun-loving, chic, and conscious chick!

Source: Tranquil Space