I watched Barack Obama take his oath of office while sitting in a conference room at the Hyatt Regency hotel in San Francisco. I was in a meeting with the editors and publishers of most of Yoga Journal’s international editions, including Russia, Thailand, Japan, Brazil and Germany.

But  at 9 am PST, we paused. We put a live stream of the inauguration up on the screen, and twenty of us watched the 44th President being sworn in. Right after Obama said the last words of his oath, “so help me God,” the entire room stood up, clapped, stamped their feet and cheered.  The Bush era was over. And a vastly different kind of human being — one who is brilliant, strategic, and inspiring, and whose skin happens to be black — became our new President.

After eight very long years, I can now say once again, that I am proud to be an American.

One of the things I enjoy most about my work at Yoga Journal is that I get to go to our conferences and study with some of the world’s finest yoga teachers. Our San Francisco conference is starting today, held at the Hyatt Regency Embarcadero. I have several classes lined up, but I am especially thrilled to study with Matthew Sanford on the energetics of backbends. Matthew has been in a wheelchair for decades, and energetics and how energy, or chi, moves through the body, forms the basis of his teachings. As someone who has struggled with backbends for years, I am very much looking forward to his teaching.

In addition to my work as communications director, I have also just been named managing editor of our international editions. As part of our conference, we have editors/publishers coming in from Russia, Thailand, Brazil, Japan and Germany. It is a great thrill to know that no matter what the language or culture, yoga has become a world-wide phenomenon.

I like to walk. I do it for exercise, but I also do it for the sheer pleasure of witnessing life.

Yesterday at noon, I was walking near my house in the Berkeley Hills. I saw a man and woman  standing on a porch, drinking champagne.

“Wow, champagne at  noon. Cool!” I said.

“Do you want to come in?” they replied. “We’re celebrating a wedding!”

How wonderful, I said, and asked who got married. “Gladys, she’s’s 81”, said the woman, “and Dick, who just turned 86.” I clapped my hands and yelled congratulations to Gladys and Dick.

Another neighbor walked by and said, “Isn’t it great! She’s finally happy, now that her no good, lousy husband Victor died, and she’s met a nice man.” I stared in astonishment while the other people started eagerly nodding their heads agreeing — “He was a louse. The worst.”

On today’s walk, I met an ex-trader who pulled up to her house in a black 1962 Aston Martin DB4 Series 5 convertible. What a beauty! (The car, not the trader). “Yep,” she said, “bought it before the market crashed. Couldn’t resist.” I understood.

So many stories, right outside my front door.