The Urban Awakening

I woke up early as usual to do yoga. After all, it's Monday and a beautiful new week lies ahead. At that moment, I didn't realize it was also a holiday, Epiphany. The entire country wasn’t heading to work today, and stores were operating on Sunday hours. What brought this to mind during the serene pace of yin yoga?

As a city dweller in an apartment building, like about 40% of the population, I’ve come to know my neighbors’ rhythms—and they, undoubtedly, know mine. Occasionally, I lose track of time and find myself rearranging furniture at 6 a.m., inspired by a sudden decorating whim. My apologies to those disturbed! In my defense, I usually do it quietly, trying to preserve the floors and minimize unnecessary noise.

Living in the top corner of the building has its perks—just one wall neighbor and little exposure to the usual apartment hums. My environment has been softened with furniture placement, rugs, curtains, and other textiles like a gifted macramé artwork. Yet, this morning I became aware of something new.

Yin yoga: lying on the floor, relaxing your body while tossing your legs from side to side. Taking a deep breath when I heard an unfamiliar sound. I froze, puzzled, until my half-asleep brain realized it wasn’t me —the gentle vibration at a calm frequency turns out to be your neighbor snoring. For a moment, you listen to this symphony and relax to its steady rhythm. A position change later, and you’re wondering whether you should put something sound-absorbing on the wall…

So it goes.
The shoemakers children always go barefoot.