She was trained to verbally skewer landlords in Brooklyn Housing Court. Then she started syncing her breath with opposing counsel - and the settlements got friendlier.
She quit arguing for a living. The argument she won was with herself.
Tuesday morning, 9:30 Central. A camera blinks on in Dallas and somewhere a student in another time zone unrolls a mat. Nicole Payseur is teaching again - the same person who once spent her days, in her own words, "perfectly content to verbally skewer evil landlords and opposing counsel in Brooklyn Housing Court." The skewering is over. The precision stayed.
This is the engine of OM Yoga Diva, the practice she founded in 2005 and still runs herself. Private one-on-one sessions. Corporate classes built to "reduce stress and revive productivity." Bachelorette parties on the mat. A Video Vault of on-demand classes. And, twice a year, a passport: wellness retreats in Tuscany and on the coast of Altea, Spain.
She does not teach yoga as decoration. She dissects a pose the way she once dissected a deposition - looking for the weak joint, the lazy assumption, the thing you swore you couldn't do. Her students don't just touch their toes. They quit jobs, start PhDs, become, by her account, better parents. She likes to flip the usual sales pitch on its head: not "yoga is good for you," but "you are good for yoga."
The path into law was conventional enough: an English Literature degree from the University of Pennsylvania in 1991, a Juris Doctor from Tulane in 1995, admission to the New York bar. Then Brooklyn Housing Court, where she was, by her own description, trained as a verbal assassin - sharp wit deployed in adversarial rooms.
Yoga arrived quietly, then all at once. She had dabbled since law school. What changed was the depth of the commitment. She started attending classes on lunch breaks and at dawn, declining invitations so she could practice across New York's studios - Bikram, Hatha, Kundalini, Ashtanga, vinyasa, restorative. She studied pranayama under Yoga Guru Mary Dunn at the Iyengar Institute in Manhattan.
Here is the part that gives the story its hinge. She did not storm out of the law. She brought the breathing in. She began applying pranayama in the courtroom itself - quietly synchronizing her breath with opposing counsel, "ensorcelling" the aggression out of the room. The settlements came smoother and friendlier. The edge dulled. She let it.
She still holds the New York law license. She just stopped using it to win.
One teacher, several front doors. The common thread is rigor with a wink - serious instruction wrapped in what one description calls "wry unorthodox humor" that brings students "into paroxysms of joy."
Tailored sessions, in person and virtual, built around the body in front of her - not a generic flow.
Breathing and gentle movement designed to cut stress, revive focus, and protect work-life balance.
Tuesdays & Thursdays plus Saturday chair yoga - the "Just What YOU Need" lineup, open to all.
Bridal and bachelorette parties on the mat - a Dallas specialty that turns a celebration into a class.
Certified transpersonal hypnotherapy paired with enlightened business strategy for entrepreneurs.
Immersive weeks in Tuscany, Italy and Altea, Spain - yoga, place, and a full reset.
She flips the wellness cliche on purpose. The point isn't what the practice does for you. It's what you bring to it - and what you're capable of when someone refuses to let you off easy.
The age of one student who pulled off King Dancer Pose with no wall for support. Proof of the Payseur thesis: you're stronger than you've decided you are.
Languages she's proficient in - Spanish, Portuguese, and French among them. For fun, she's studied Sanskrit and Croatian.
She kept her New York law license active long after she stopped practicing. The verbal assassin retired; the credential didn't.
Yoga styles practiced - Bikram, Hatha, Kundalini, Ashtanga, vinyasa, Iyengar, Anusara, restorative. She didn't pick a lane; she drove all of them.
A short film on the OM Yoga Diva story - the attorney who took her yoga off the mat and into the courtroom.