Bandha Mania!

When I got to Volleyball Guy's this morning, he handed me a couple of photos. Volleyball Guy loves to take photos. And then he gives you the ones that you're in. Which gives us all an opportunity to be very self-satisfied (my pincha mayurasana photo is on the fridge--I know, I'm a dork) or rather horrified.

Today I received pictures of me in utthita hasta padangusthasana B. My form looks pretty good, but my leg is just at 90 degrees. Now, I am not terribly attached to UHP, in general. I don't dread it and I don't love it. It just is what it is. But now, after seeing the photo, I know I'm going to be eager to push on how high I get my leg. Okay, fine. So be it.

The other photo was of me in ardha baddha padmottanasana--with my bad knee in lotus, no less. Is my head down, and my back extended? Oh, hell, no! Nope, I've got a seriously curved back as I try not to press into my knee, and the whole thing looks laughably tentative. But I'll hand it to him--Volleyball Guy's photo shows me exactly where I need to go to work this pose properly (once my knee is a little more healed up). He's kind of an evil genius, I think.

Again today, I jumped to ardha baddha padma paschimottanasana after dandasana. And then, as usual, I realized it and went back to paschimottanasana and purvottanasana. Maybe Guruji would be willing to change the sequence if I ask nicely? ;-) There are probably psychological assessments that can be made about people according to which poses they forget or get out of sequence.

Navasana was good today. As I rolled up into handstand (with a spot, Jody!), I felt my bandhas engage in a way I have never felt before. It was like the bandhas were running the show on their own. Much easier than momentum or brute force, which are my usual methods. And the bandha mania continued. Whereas I usually poop out after the first handstand or two, today I managed four very solid roll-ups and roll-downs, and I even managed to stick each handstand at the top quite solidly (usually I'm shaky after two), with Volleyball Guy counting on the last one and slowing down his count and stepping back away from me in order to drag the whole thing out.

Bhujapidasana is bhujapidasana. Meaning, I get my feet through without touching and then I fall on my head. But the fall grows increasingly...uh, graceful... ;-) Seriously, though, I can imagine finally not falling on my head. One of these days. And kurmasana is coming along very nicely. It doesn't happen every single time, but often lately I can feel my lower back opening and relaxing in this posture, whereas before, it was always pretty stressful on my lower back.

My Gift from the Universe is at home from school with a headache she's had since last night. She works at a retail clothing store, and I stopped in after work last night to see her. I saw her leaning across the counter to help a little old lady who was picking out a wristwatch for her granddaughter. My Gift was totally engaged with this little lady, and so sweet and helpful. She reminded me of my favorite zen monks--how they are always so engaged with what is before them, and their spirits so sweet and shiny. A pleasure to see in the midst of the holiday shopping. I was very proud.

Winter practice

Home practice today. The Cop is kind and turned the heat up when he got up, about 20 minutes before me, so the house was nice and toasty. We had a bunch of paperwork to look after this morning--a few last details that need to be addressed for the new house, so by the time he left, I was feeling a little scattered. Not really focused for practice.

So I turned the heat up even more and put on Sharath's CD. If I couldn't take myself through practice, I figured Sharath could. And what I learned this morning is that I tend to turn the end of each sitting pose into the start of the jumpback. Sharath counts so that you finish the posture on the fifth breath, then inhale back up to sitting, exhale, then inhale to start the jumpback, exhale to chaturanga. Left to my own devices, I tend to inhale back to sitting/start the jumpback, exhale to chaturanga. No exhale/inhale in the middle.

I tried to pay attention to the way Sharath was counting the breaths, even though I spaced out and did the transitions my usual way a few times. I figure I'll keep this in the back of my mind tomorrow at Volleyball Guy's and see if I can make some adjustments. I suspect that extra exhale/inhale would give me more energy for pulling up for the jumpback.

So I'll see how it goes tomorrow, and perhaps use Sharath's CD for home practice for a bit--let him teach me a thing or two.

In other news, the sleeping-without-curling-up-to-see-if-that-relaxes-my-hamstrings experiment has been declared a success. These days, my hamstrings feel comfy after just one or two suryas. Now I'm going to see if I can relax my upper back more as I sleep. Sleep Your Way To Better Backbends. I think I have a winner there. It's weird, to think I have to try to relax as I sleep, but there you have it. I'm a tight sleeper, I guess.

End of vacation

Well, my week off flew by, and now it's back to work. But first, practice at Volleyball Guy's.

It was freezing this morning. Okay, maybe not freezing like places where it snows, places outside the desert--but for me, it's freezing. Like 36 degrees or something. And the garage door wouldn't open. So I called The Cop, who was driving to work, and he talked me through turning off the automatic release and just opening the garage door the old fashioned way. Which was kind of cool--it's been a long time since I've done that. You know, all these "conveniences," like automatic garage door openers, really do allow people to live almost completely sedentary lives. Maybe not such a convenience, ultimately.

So anyhow, I traveled from the freezing dark morning to the warm confines of Volleyball Guy's place. Where I was greeted by Returning Guy, Sanskrit Scholar and The Other Dave. That's it--just a few of us today. And everyone a more advanced practitioner than I. Which was great. Everyone went along on their own, and there was not the usual crowded room full of people learning, of people striving.

As has been my recent habit, I forgot paschimottanasana and purvottanasana in my subconscious desire to face off with the dreaded ardha baddha padma paschimottanasana. I realized it at the end of trianga mukhaikapada paschimottanasana. No! I wasn't going to miss purvottanasana again! So I doubled back and started in on paschimottanasana. "Uh, Karen...?" I heard Volleyball Guy say. I explained my strange sequence, he nodded, and on I went.

Today was a "pay attention to breathing" day. I really held out for a relaxed breath every single time. Which made me realize that I tend to start building up a head of steam (i.e., breathing faster and less deeply) once I hit the Janus. So I practiced a little discipline and slowed them all down. Which left me not feeling queasy for once when I got to backbends.

And I stuck with the insistence on calmness throughout backbends. Which makes them much more pleasant. So now my plan is to practice great calm as I return to work. Any anxiety I manifest at work is entirely useless and pretty damn unpleasant. I think I will give it up.

I had a message from my publisher last night. Everything is set to get the third book out at the beginning of the year. The other poets (3) who the press will publish in 2006 are all people whose work I respect, which feels really good. I had great plans to do a lot of writing this past week, and as it turns out, I managed to get a new book underway. It is hard to be patient when poems are kind of percolating inside--I always feel like I want to force the issue. But I waited it out, and by the end of the day yesterday I found that I am in very good shape, writing-wise. Once again it is demonstrated that I don't need to exert my will, that if I just am patient and open, creativity will manifest. Duh. How many times, I wonder, will I need to learn this lesson? ;-)

Festive Saturday Led

So I had this bright idea that I would do Mysore this morning, instead of led. Uh, yeah, that was the plan, until I slept in until 8. Alright, led it is.

Class was packed. As I was going in, Volleyball Guy came over and gave me a big hug. It was nice. Welcoming. And surprising. He's not a terribly demonstrative guy.

Practice was very hot, due to the crush of practitioners. I had a little trouble focusing at first--everything felt so festive that I kept glancing around. It seemed like the fun thing to do. I was thrilled in prasarita padottanasana B and C to be able to get my head on the floor, no problem. But then my glancing caught up to me, in prasarita C. Suddenly, everything started to spin. Oh great, I thought, I'm gonna faint. So I tried focusing my drishti properly and tuned in to my breathing, and everything got back to normal. I wondered how I'd fare in parsvottanasana, which for some inexplicable reason is a pose that almost inevitably makes me feel woozy, but apparently I'd used up all my swooning potential on prasarita C.

From there on, practice rocked. One of those warm, easy practices, where every bind is a cinch, all forward bends are easy and feel great--you know, the way practice should always be ;-)

My knee feels kind of crappy. Achey and not resilient, but I'm trying not to focus on that too much. It's something that's just going to have to play itself out.

Dropbacks are coming along nicely--I'm not hating backbends as vehemently as I was a few weeks ago. I think I may have a love-hate relationship with backbends as I continue my practice. I can easily imagine times when I will be psyched to practice them and find lots of pleasure in them. Conversely, it's pretty easy for me to dread and hate them. For now, though, I am learning more and more how to contract my quads to pull myself up from urdhva dhanurasana (with a spot, of course). This way of working my quads is not at all like anything I've ever experienced in weight training, running, martial arts, cardio machining, climbing, or any other sport or activity I've ever done. It's like a weird contraction that happens at the inserts, rather than the belly of the muscle, it seems. I have no idea how to conceptualize it, but I imagine if I keep practicing it, I will eventually "figure it out." Maybe not with my mind, but with my body. Not my usual MO, but hey, it's always good to try something new...

Just another morning Mysore

Nice warm, crowded practice this morning. A bunch of folks from Volleyball Guy's went to Bikram yesterday, as a holiday treat. I can't seem to get psyched up for that. Not sure why. Well, I could say it was because I was busy cooking, which is true--but the fact of the matter is, I didn't want to go anyhow. Apparently I have a prejudice against Bikram. I'm a bit perplexed by my close-mindedness.

I had a fun holiday practice yesterday, though. A practice of things I just enjoy doing--primarily inversions. But first off, some favorite poses I don't get to play with these days, like vasisthasana and astavakrasana. I practiced the navasana to handstand transition, then did a bunch of "timbering," which I find highly entertaining, but which the dog seems to find quite alarming. Then the seven headstands from second series a few times. Pincha mayurasana. All the favorites. It is very strange to do a practice of all poses one likes. It's rather like eating too much sugar--delightful but a little cloying.

So it was nice to get back to regular practice this morning. Chanting Man brought his daughter, who looks to be about 8 or 9 years old. It's apparent that she practices a good bit. She stayed focused through her whole practice, kept up with her Dad, and Volleyball Guy spotted her on handstands, which was quite charming.

I, on the other hand, forgot dandasana, paschimottanasana, and purvottanasana. I was disappointed when I realized I'd done it, because I particularly love purvottanasana. I think I was distracted by feeling kind of weird in my tummy--no doubt from eating rich food yesterday--and also because I was dreading ardha baddha padma paschimottanasana. I totally blew off the forward bend in ardha baddha padmottansana, so I knew I was gonna be hurting in ABPP. My knee isn't painful like it was when I first hurt it, but it feels achey and congested. So I'm not feeling good about the idea of cranking on it. *Sigh.*

Happily, though, bhujapidasana, which I swore I would never be able to pull off without dragging my feet on my mat, is now do-able. I even manage to slow myself before my head hits the ground. It's not pretty, but I'm not concussed, either. I have to use butt momentum to get my head back up off the floor, but these are just details that will work themselves out in time ;-)

And now kurmasana is added to the mix. It's going to take some practice before I get my legs straight, but hey, it seems possible, so that's something right there.

thanks

the cop
my gift from the universe
fat cat and pushy dog

my best friend in CA
my family

seung sahn
dae bong
sokai

volleyball guy and the yoga gang

my team at work

om shanti

Self doubt

Today's practice was racked with self doubt. Just looked up "racked" to make sure I was spelling it right (wondered if it might be "wracked") and find that the word derives from the Swedish dialect for "wreck," and there's a definition of the original term: "a wind-driven mass of high, often broken clouds."

Yup, that was my mind this morning, a mass of broken clouds. Why? I have no idea. It started right in, though, as I began my practice. It was a rather forlorn experience, and made me feel alienated from the other folks practicing. A little test of my faith, I have come to decide. A little taste of my own ignorance.

Before I went to Volleyball Guy's, I read this in the Yoga Sutras: In the Upanishads, ignorance is compared to a veil of illusion that covers the truth and confuses the mind so that it cannot discriminate between reality and appearance.

So I had that bit of suffering today, where I felt all worried about my practice, and mostly about how it appears. I wondered if I should ask Volleyball Guy how I am doing, I wondered if my practice looks awful. I have no idea what got that whole thing going, but it was not very constructive.

And then again, it wasn't terribly destructive, either. I did my practice, I noticed my knee is feeling pretty darn good (thanks to castor oil and heat, I think), and I absorbed and wasn't too shaken by my self doubt. Ardha baddha padmottanasana is still out of the question, and the second side of Marichy D is sketchy, but for all intents and purposes, my injured knee is coming along beautifully.

The main lesson seems to be that I have to renew my faith in my practice every so often--that I will have my moments of doubt, of being caught in appearance, and all I can do is ride it out and try to remember that my practice is my own, that it works from inside me. And the appearance stuff, well, I guess it may never go away completely. But I can make a point of keeping it in perspective. Because being inside my practice is a hell of a lot more rewarding than watching it from the outside.

Practicing with Sharath

Well, with his CD, actually. Vacation day, but I have to go into the office for two hours to run a webconference that got rescheduled. So I slept in and then had to scramble to figure out the practice situation. The likelihood of my practicing at home after noon is slim, as I know from past experience. Volleyball Guy does led second series on Tuesday nights, but I've had some run-ins with second that suggest I am not ready for it (sleepless nights after second series practice, jangly nerves, etc.). So no sense bringing an injured knee to a series I really shouldn't be messing with anyhow.

Suddenly, a stroke of brilliance. I'd practice with Sharath's CD. It's quick, I have someone to count for me, and I won't spend my time worrying about the conference call, because I'll be busy trying to keep up with Sharath. Plus, I've been very interested in the breath/vinyasas since reading Jenna's post on the Lino workshop. I mean, I knew the one breath/one vinyasa "rule," but somehow it kind of got away from me...

Damn, Sharath tears through primary! It's actually quite enlightening, to move without the extra time and effort. You'd think, at first, that quicker would be easier, since you don't have as much time to "work" the poses. But somehow that doesn't turn out to be so.

Here's what I love about the one breath/one vinyasa mode: your movements are intimately connected with the breath, and that makes for a very clear focus. Plus, not having time to struggle to work deeply into the poses means you have a very springy, athletic practice. Essentially, you don't have time to exhaust yourself with each posture, so your muscles keep a certain elasticity. Which I find very appealing. I finished up feeling very energetic--not at all spent.

Gee, you'd almost think this guy has some special insight into Ashtanga practice ;-)

Okay, off to my vacation day webconference...

Unmasked!

As I was unrolling my mat this morning, Sanskrit Scholar, who had also just arrived, leaned over and said, "I have an important question: are you donutszenmom?" I laughed and said yes, but then I felt kind of anxious. I went back in my mind to see if I'd said anything I might regret. Couldn't really think of anything, but the anxiety was there, and it was weird to feel it. I mean, I was at practice at Volleyball Guy's, which is an incredibly safe and welcoming place for me, so I am entirely unaccustomed to feeling uncomfortable there.

It is interesting, though, to feel that kind of anxiety. It is familiar, too. I have written for years, primarily poetry, and I've have two books published, with a third due in January. I have had to deal with the issues that come up when one writes and publishes personal thoughts. But I have dealt with friends and family. I suddenly had this strong sense of responsibility for the privacy of the people I practice with. I mean, my friends and family are kind of stuck with me and whatever I might say or do or write, but the folks at practice are just there to practice.

So I've been thinking a bit about Sanskrit Scholar and the British Director this morning. Both of them are teachers who studied with Volleyball Guy, and both of them were incredibly helpful and welcoming to me when I decided to learn Ashtanga. They helped me muddle my way through primary series, they were (and are) incredibly gracious about my beginner's attempts, and they are always quick to offer help and moral support. I am incredibly lucky. The British Director was generous enough to tell me that I should grab the opportunity to practice at Volleyball Guy's, even when that meant she would have one less person in her class. Sanskrit Scholar will stop cold in the middle of her own practice if she sees I need help with a bind.

Sanskrit Scholar has helped me see that I probably shouldn't be a teacher. The more I see her devotion to her practice and to other people's practices, the more I realize that though I love Ashtanga, I love it primarily as my own practice. I'm not necessarily into sharing it the way she is. Nothing wrong with that, I think--and I'm happy that watching her has helped me understand my own motivations more clearly.

Practice today was quick and very, very warm. I seem to breathe faster than most folks, and I really try not to take extra breaths in the vinyasas, mostly because I like the flowing movement that gets established when I zip along. And one of the advantages of that quick practice is that I get really, really heated up. I am just sweating away--and I don't usually even notice it until I sit in padmasana and realize there are rivulets streaming down my face.

Not that I was really in padmasana today. Right knee is not going for full lotus. So I had my moment of utter grief in response to not being able to fold my knee up, and then I went on to have a lovely practice. Not too many people there today--Sanskrit Scholar, Bikram Teacher, Returning Guy, The Other Dave (back after weeks off from a hamstring injury sustained outside of practice) and myself. And since I'm taking this week off from work, I can go back to bed now. How much does that rock?!?!

Sunday: Coffee and Abs

Just sat down on the floor next to The Cop and said "ow!" My abs, just under my lowest ribs, are killing. And then I figured out why--lolasana. I've been working lolasana as a precursor to jumpbacks from sitting poses (versus just putting my hands in front of my knees and jumping back from there). At this point, I can actually get my butt up pretty high from lolasana--just a teeny bit more practice, I think, before I have enough strength to kick my legs back with enough oomph to really get a proper jumpback. Right now I can pull straight up into lolasana, then get my hips back, but then I've pretty much used most of my strength. Just a little more practice...

So The Cop and I (well, mostly it was just me ;-) got to talking about how the practice brings people to the opposite end of where they start--for instance, I told him that Sanskrit Tattoo Guy can do pristine jumpbacks, and he can navasana-to-handstand and back again with incredible grace and power. The catch, though, is that he is less flexy than some of the superbendy practitioners. It seems like muscular types are good inverters, but challenged by the flexy stuff. And vice versa. So whether you start as a flexy noodle or a strongman, if you practice, practice, practice, eventually you will develop the other end of the spectrum: the flexy will grow strong and coordinated, and the strong will grow flexible.

And the implications, in terms of how one lives in the world, are quite interesting. Zen always talks about "the middle way." This practice is a terrific example of that, I think--both physically and spiritually.

And in other good news: We got the house! We'll be moving into our new home right after Christmas. One room, which is supposed to be the formal dining area, will be devoted to yoga and zazen. The Enlightenment Room. It's a bright room with huge windows and stone floors. I'll decorated it with plants, Buddhas and incense burners, a mat, a zafu and a zabuton. I've been doing home practice in the foyer of our current house. The rest of the house, except for the kitchen, is carpeted--so I have my little space in the tiled foyer, where I roll out my mat next to all the shoes that gather there when The Cop and My Gift from the Universe take their shoes off when they come into the house. It sounds kind of pathetic, I guess--but in fact, it is a rather charming space, and I like having their stuff around me when I practice.

Invasion of the Bikramites

Led primary this morning. Very crowded, and even more Bikram folks. Bikram Teacher and the Contestant were there, but that's not so surprising, seeing as they're coming to Mysore at Volleyball Guy's. Two additional Bikramites, though: the Head Teacher and the Male Contestant. Head Teacher is the top teacher at the local Bikram studio, and the Male Contestant was in the same contest that the Contestant prepared for a few months ago. Anyhow, new folks in class, which is always fun. I practiced between Head Teacher and the Male Contestant. They said they enjoyed class, and that many of the poses were familiar.

The Cop brought home a knee wrap for me yesterday. It was quite nice--just enough springy support to prevent me from unconsciously torquing my knee, and it kept in a good bit of heat. So my knee felt good. I actually did all the poses per usual (in lotus), and we'll see how I feel tomorrow. The knee pop is perhaps a wake-up call for me, in terms of form. It wasn't bad form that made it pop in Marichy D, but still, it is a reminder that I fold my legs into lotus without thinking about it, and the fact is, my hips aren't super open. Which means my knees bear the brunt. So I've done some reading (Coulter's Anatomy of Hatha Yoga was helpful) and am realizing that I have to be more conscious as I do lotus--flexing my feet to keep the knee stable, stuff like that. Essentially, I just have to be more mindful.

Practice was great fun, though, today--despite the injury. I have had boundless amounts of happy energy the past few days. I've been amusing myself by tormenting The Cop, My Gift from the Universe, even the dog and the cat, with all sorts of silly antics. And I felt it in class, too--movement felt so good, all I wanted to do was move and breathe and once dropbacks were done, I wanted to play around with inversions--just anything that is physical and playful.

Now we're off to show The Cop's cousin around. He is visiting the desert for the first time. It's always fun to bring folks from the east coast out to look at saguaros and desert mountain vistas.

Knee grief

Shock, denial, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression, and acceptance. The seven stages of grief. Yes, I have grief about my knee.

Today I had denial ("Maybe it would actually be helpful to the healing process if I do a little ardha baddha padmottanasana..."), and bargaining ("Since I skipped the forward bend in ardha baddha padmottanasana, maybe I can go ahead and do ardha baddha padma paschimottanasana..."), and a little depression ("Why did this happen? My practice is ruined..."), and then some acceptance.

Mostly, though, I just was aware of how much I take my knees (and, by extension, the rest of my body) for granted. It is incredible to see how many poses are affected in one way or another by the injury. A real eye-opener, in terms of how integrated the movements of the practice are, and also on how much stress the practice puts on the physical system (and I don't mean to suggest that the stress is bad--rather, that it is a challenge to the physical system).

Lots of folks at practice this morning--me quietly assessing my knee, Chanting Man with some kind of back injury that is really challenging him, Bikram Teacher struggling with impatience as she learns Ashtanga and wonders why she hasn't mastered it yet ;-) Sanskrit Scholar, Returning Guy, the British Director, the Contestant and the Beautiful One were there, working their own issues. Every morning, we all practice together, each of us with our individual lives inside us. It's very cool to think about our human lives, each contained within the confines of the bodies of the people practicing on little rectangular mats. I just love it.

If yoga isn't a sport...

...then why am I referring to my sports injury book? A great book, by the way: Listen to Your Pain: The Active Person's Guide to Understanding, Identifying, and Treating Pain and Injury.

So the **doink** in my knee yesterday was not as insignificant as I wished. According to the book, I might have a lateral collateral ligament tear. The good news is that it heals pretty easily. Amusingly, the book points out: "You can become prone to this injury by having overstretched ligaments on the outside of your knee. This frequently happens to people who practice yoga and spend a lot of time in the lotus position."

Home practice this morning revolved around testing out the knee pain (physical practice) and putting it in perspective (psychological practice). When I got up this morning, I expected to have some problems with ardha baddha padmottanasana and ardha baddha padma paschimottanasana, but I was naive in thinking those would be the only poses affected. Janu A and C (especially C!) were sketchy, as were Marichy A, B, and of course, D. I practiced D with my feet folded under, and there may be a bit of a silver lining, as it felt helpful to really practice the twist of the pose a bit. Usually the pressure of the lotus legs inhibits really deep twisting.

Bhujapidasana was fun. I didn't forget how to pull my feet through without touching the floor. Nor did I forget crashing down on my head yesterday. I grabbed one of My Gift from the Universe's sweatshirts (maybe it is actually helpful that she leaves her clothes around the house for use by other family members...not) and formed it into a little crash pad for my head. Worked like a charm.

And in the realm of giveth and taketh away, I found that though I was hobbled with a new injury, I was gifted with a breakthrough in jump throughs. No idea what happened, but my rather craftsmanlike jump throughs were suddenly particularly airy and effortless.

And to finish up: Last night was my second Rolfing session. Apparently Rolfing cannot instantaneously cure lateral collateral ligament tears. But here's the cool part: I get to Philosophy Monk's office. There is no exchange of information regarding physical status, any ailments, etc. He sits at his desk and has me walk away from him, turn, and walk back toward him. I get on the table and he makes a beeline for the right knee. Dude! How'd he do that? Last night was a lot of work on my shins, knees, ankles, and feet. I have no idea if my structure has been realigned, but I do know it felt unbelievably good. Now I just need to skip high heels for a few days.

Mula Con Call

Right when I was hitting the Janus, Volleyball Guy said, "Okay, everyone keep doing what you're doing. For the next four minutes, we are having the mula bandha blueplate special. You can forget uddiyana bandha, you can forget jalandhara bandha, you can forget to breathe. Just don't forget mula bandha." Then he proceeded to keep reminding us of mula bandha for the next four minutes running. Everything was fine, until he said, "Forget about what you're going to have for lunch, forget about conference calls..." Oh yeah, that's where my heart and my breathing and my bandhas came to a screeching halt. Con calls! Really, they are my nemesis. The one anxiety I can't seem to smooth out. I had to laugh. He had me at con call.

Sanskrit Scholar gave me adjustments in Marichy D. Powerful twisting adjustments. Perhaps a bit too powerful, as I had a little...hmmm, how shall I spell it?...a little **doink** in my right knee. Like a teeny shift of something in there. Hopefully a little insignificant shift that I can now forget about. And a little crink in my left ankle. I am accustomed to those, and they disappear quickly, so no concerns about the ankle.

Oh, and in Bhujapidasana, I got my feet through without scraping the floor! Of course, I also fell smack onto the top of my head, but it felt like a triumph, nevertheless. I can figure out the smoother landing later. And tonight's Rolfing, so Philosopy Monk can maybe help me out with whatever smooshing I did to my neck.

Lovely to be back after a moon day. I felt so light. Yet mildly headachey. But did I mention very, very light? Yeah, well, then I remembered that I picked at a salad for dinner, and had two strong drinks. And therein lies the headachey lightness, I guess.

Moon Day

Thank goodness for the moon day. I need some rest. Yesterday, the university close to our home (about 25 miles south) had an open house. I attended with My Gift from the Universe. She's already been accepted at the college we visited back in October, and to this one, as well--so now she's making a decision about where she wants to go. It is good to watch this process. I am stepping back and just helping her weigh the options (versus pushing for one or the other). She has a boyfriend she loves, and if she goes to the school that is further away, she will be giving up seeing him--except for occasional weekends. Plus, all of her friends live in this area. So will she decide to step out into the unknown and go to the school that is far away? It's starting to look like she will. I'm very proud of her.

With the visit to the college yesterday, practice was a bit less mindful than usual. I got over to Volleyball Guy's on the stroke of 5:30 AM, and was out of there by 6:40. I must say, the swift practices have a charm of their own. No belaboring individual poses. No extra breaths. I tend to move along pretty rapidly, as a matter of course. Sanskrit Scholar has encouraged me to take extra breaths, but Volleyball Guy overheard and was quite adamant that everyone's practice is their own, and that when one is thinking am I going too fast?, or am I going too slow?, one has lost a connection to the practice, to mindfulness.

I practiced next to Returning Guy again, and we have very similar paces. He was probably two Surya As "in front" of me as I started, and he started his backbends just before I did. So we finished up at the same time. No fuss, no muss. I just pop into poses, breathe and experience, then move on. Once in a while I'll take an extra breath or two to set up for a tougher pose, but usually I limit that to a couple of poses per practice. Not sure why I have that little internal rule, but there it is. For example, at this point, I usually hold for extra breaths on Marichy D--so I can practice the balance of the pose, and so I can practice calm breathing. That's it, though, in terms of extra time in poses during practice. I felt kind of self-conscious about it, at first. Sanskrit Scholar really spends lots of time on each pose, so if it's just us in the shala, the time discrepancy between our practices is dramatic. When there are alot of folks, though, it's less apparent. And, as I mentioned, Returning Guy is also a zippy practitioner--so now he's my cover ;-)

Everyone, cross your fingers. Or put your feet behind your heads, if you'd prefer ;-) This morning, The Cop and I are making an offer on a house we'd love to buy. I signed all the offer papers yesterday, during a whirlwind meeting with our realtor following open house at the university. Whew! Busy day. Luckily, I started off with some zazen before going to Volleyball Guy's. Yup, sitting meditation--at the behest of Philosophy Monk, who suggested I resume sitting meditation as well as practice Ashtanga. Okay, fair enough. I can give that a whirl.

The Good Habit of Not Thinking

It occurred to me as I drove to led primary this morning, that I hadn't even thought about the fact that I was going. I just went. As I drove along, I thought, "You could think about whether you want to go..." and then I figured, "Nah, why bother?" and dismissed the thought.

Saturday is the only day I really have much option to think about whether I want to go to class or not. Both Mysore at Volleyball Guy's and home practice are my "own" practice, somehow, so it is easy to just do it. Plus, when I get up at 4:30 AM, I don't have the wherewithal to debate what I want to do over the next few hours. So I just proceed.

The key to Saturday led is to be very focused on not thinking. In the morning, no thinking about not going. Once I'm there, no thinking about who is there or how long the breath counts take--nothing. Bandhas, breath or driste are all I allow myself to focus on.

Today, I noticed the fruits of the Rolfing session most vividly when we were in the dropback portion of class. Once I had my turn and Volleyball Guy was going around doing dropbacks with everyone else, I did pincha mayurasana. I love all inversions, but this pincha was particularly delightful, as there was no tension in my upper back. None at all. Amazing. The pose felt easy, balanced, and very, very light. Nice.

Rolfing Works

The verdict is in, after this morning's practice: Rolfing works. I first noticed something when I got to Prasarita Padottanasana B. I usually sail through A, because I can pull with my hands to get my head on the floor. But B and C pose more of a challenge. What I noticed today was 1) my head was on the floor, no problem, in all Prasaritas, and 2) I was strangely, and just slightly, off-balance. As if my shoulder/neck area was "too light." It took me a few moments to figure it out, but I realized that usually there is a ball of tension in my upper back, between my shoulders, and it kind of makes this tangled ball of tension that "sticks" my shoulders, upper back, and neck all together. And all of that was missing. It was like I was empty inside, and lighter. And it affected my balance ever so slightly.

I also realized that I kind of think of that area as my "core," as the most dense part of myself. Where I keep my willfulness and determination and ambition. All the "strong" stuff. The missing heaviness/tension in that area meant my whole center of gravity shifted. It was particularly noticeable in anything upside down: the prasaritas, handstands, sirsasana. I didn't feel less strong, but I could feel the tension missing. Interesting, eh? That I associated tension with my strength and balance?

All I could think was, "I've got to get this done to my hips, too!" It is much as I suspected: the Rolfing adjusted the structure I've learned to identify as "me"-- in this case, the upper back tension that I thought was simply a part of me, that I created and clung to as part of my physical identity. I knew it was there, but I didn't know how MUCH there it was, or that it wasn't really necessary to my physical structure, until it was relieved.

Not sure how the Rolfing fits in with what else was going on in practice today. Marichyasana A was a breeze--easy to bind, and then I just leaned right down until my chin was on my shin. I love when that happens--a pose just reveals itself so easily and gracefully. And Bhujapidasana felt pretty good. I got my feet underneath me with relative ease (though still sliding along the mat), and I even managed to get out of the pose, despite putting weight on my head. It wasn't pretty, but it was a step in the right direction.

There is this scary feeling when you first practice zen: If I dissolve my ego, what will be left? and now I am confronting a bit of that with Rolfing: If I dissolve my tension, what will be left? Will I still be me? Those questions seem so compelling at first, but after a while, you just sort of let it go--the whole drive to preserve the pre-conceived "self" relaxes. It's sort of like moving deeper into a pose. All the questions you have at the beginning dissolve, too, and you wonder why you were so attached to them to start with.

Melting the Mind/Body Split

Or, more accurately, having a Rolfing session. I got to Philosophy Monk's after a grueling day at the office. Usually I am quite happy-go-lucky about work, and quite purposeful about maintaining that perspective despite my corporate environment. But this week has kicked my butt for some reason. Maybe because I am sick, or maybe because the organization is going through some soul-searching (Ha! What corporation has a soul, you ask--but that's a question for another day...), and strategy meetings, both scheduled and impromptu, are taking up my days. There is lots of emotion attached to all of these growing pains.

So anyhow, I drove through rush hour traffic with that splitting-headache/work-sucked-the-protective-coating-off-my-nerves feeling and got to Philosophy Monk's office just in time for my appointment.

I've rarely seen Philosophy Monk out of zen robes, so it was a surprise to see him in the office in a Hawaiian shirt and flip flops. It struck me that he has a shaved head. Duh! Of course he does--he is a zen monk. But somehow it seemed really surprising in the "real" world, versus when I see him at the zendo. I guess it "means" something different at the zendo, since it's a more usual practice there.

Okay, so just to get this out of the way: it is rather strange to be in your underwear when in the company of a monk from your zendo. In fact, it has the quality of one of those dreams you wake from and think, "What in the world did that mean?"

Philosophy Monk does "gentle" rolfing. None of that searing pain I've heard about. It was more like a cross between chiropractic and massage--no bone adjustments like in chiro, but more intense tissue manipulation than in massage. We talked about yoga a bit (he is literate in yoga schools and philosophies), and about zen. He asked about any physical problems I might have, and I said tight shoulders and neck, tight hamstrings, and then I laughed and said, "Mostly it's all here," and pointed to my head. He asked, "So you want me to Rolf your mind?" I had to laugh. It's a pretty funny joke, from a zen perspective. There was a good bit of that kind of discussion as he worked--funny, insightful comments Roshi has made, etc.--so I guess we kinda behaved like zen geeks.

He worked alot on my head, neck, and hips, but concentrated most intensely on my shoulders. I can say quite honestly that I have little understanding of how this whole Rolfing thing might work. I asked if there was anything I needed to know, in order to understand ("to make it work," I think I said), and he said no, that he'd prefer I wait and see if I feel anything different, rather than tell me what I might expect. Fair enough.

At the end, he did some energy stuff. Most interesting was when he had his hands around my head and we were just quiet. It was a rather strange feeling, like there was all this slowly turning fluid inside my head--I can only rather inadequately describe it as feeling as if my head and neck were a lava lamp, with that kind of slow, syrupy twisting/turning energy. Maybe Gregg knows more about this sort of thing, since it seemed a bit Reiki-like. But no matter what was happening there, I felt really calm and readjusted when I got up from the table--like my head had been cleaned on the inside.

It was fascinating--once I got past my own insatiable desire to know what's going on and understand everything all the time. Sure, I felt clumsy and clueless in relation to subtle energy. But I'm figuring I might catch on a bit as we go. I have another two sessions booked over the next couple of weeks.

On the practice front, I am happy I made my sick and shaky way through practice yesterday, because I've made a promise to myself to at least take one day for ladies holiday. So today is a rest day. Which is handy, because I feel like crap. Already looking forward to tomorrow's practice, though. So I have a day to get over this cold. Or rather, slightly less than a day.

What's that? Impatient? Greedy? Surely you can't mean me ;-)

Particular Identities

You may ask why it is better to liberate emotion rather than to generate positive karma. The answer is that all karmic traces act to constrain us, to restrict us to particular identities. The goal of the path is complete liberation from all conditioning. This does not mean that, once one is liberated, positive traits such as compassion are not present. They are. But when we are no longer driven by karmic tendencies we can see our situation clearly and respond spontaneously and appropriately, rather than being pushed in one direction or pulled in another. The relative compassion that arises from positive karmic tendencies is very good, but better is the absolute compassion that arises effortlessly and perfectly in the individual liberated from karmic conditioning. It is more spacious and inclusive, more effective and free of the delusions of dualism.
--The Tibetan Yogas of Dream and Sleep

Practice was crowded today. I got to Volleyball Guy's at 5:40 and the place was already packed. Volleyball Guy asked Bikram Teacher and Chanting Man to make a space for me. Bikram Teacher seemed irritated, but Chanting Man was okay with it. Speaking of Chanting Man, I enjoy practicing near him, too. He is relatively new, and he is similar in body type to Returning Guy, but even more muscular. Now that I think of it, The Beautiful One may be the only person there who has the long, lanky body one generally associates with Ashtangis. Oh, and Volleyball Guy. I am pretty small, and still a little muscular from sports--so not particularly Ashtangi-like.

Anyhow, it was nice to practice near Chanting Man for the first time. In really close quarters, you can feel people's reactions to having another practitioner wedged in. He was fine with it--and I love when you can feel someone practicing but also peripherally aware of you next to them--as you are of them. It is an interesting kind of psychic and physical give-and-take, that making room to accomodate someone by being considerate of what poses they have coming up in their practice, and of wishing them well. I guess I really am a Socialist at heart ;-)

And I have a project: getting past the delusion of dualism with Bikram Teacher.

So practice was good. I felt awful when I woke, figured I wouldn't practice, then got up and had coffee and the tide of habit kept me moving along until I found myself driving to Volleyball Guy's. I skipped dropbacks, just because I felt like I should cut myself a little slack. Volleyball Guy always comes over to spot me on my handstand after Utkatasana and the ones between each Navasana--and he noticed how shaky I was. I could get up there no problem, and I never felt like I would lose control of the handstand, but my arms kept shaking slightly. He asked me what was wrong, and I told him I wasn't sure, just a bit under the weather.

Tonight is Rolfing. I'm scared and excited, both.

On the one hand

Home practice this morning. So why am I blogging at 5:52 AM, instead of practicing? 'Cause after 5 Surya As and 5 Surya Bs, I had to accept that I have a good cold going on, and not enough energy to warm myself up properly for practice.

On the other hand, this is kind of a good thing. My Gift from the Universe has been feeling under the weather the past couple of days and came home from school early yesterday with swollen lymph nodes and dizziness. I was afraid she might be setting up for a lupus flare. But now I wonder if we don't just have viral infections. Which would definitely be preferable.

So here I am at 5:52, with laundry running and coffee brewing. Guess I'll get to work really early...

Tomorrow is Rolfing with the Philosophy Monk. I am loading up on Emergen-C, in hopes that I can head this illness off. Otherwise I'll have to call his office tomorrow and find out if he prefers me to postpone.

I used to be so compulsive about working out, back when I was a gym rat (and The Cop would laugh to hear me suggest I am less compulsive now). It is still quite hard for me to give up a day of practice, but at least it isn't so crushingly guilt-inducing. It's sweeter now, and more gracious, I guess--I don't feel compelled to practice so much as I simply miss it when I don't.

Marichy B

What is it about Marichy B? I just love it. No idea why, but through thick and thin, pain and pleasure, I always am so happy in Marichy B. Somehow, it feels so safe and secure. Almost fetal, I guess.

This morning, Volleyball Guy gave me the best adjustment. Usually he lets me bind, then puts pressure on my back to increase the forward bend. This morning, though, he got up behind me and wrapped his arms around me and smooshed me into a little ball. Less like pushing down into the forward bend, and more like squeezing my legs to my trunk. Making the whole pose more compact. Suddenly I understood how people can bind and still have a lot of space between their wrists and their back.

So a good practice this morning, despite the ongoing toe problem. Yes, I'm a dork and did this to myself. But the toenail that is most painful is one that I blackened repeatedly back in the days when I ran alot. So it's got issues, beyond my zealous pedicuring. All sun salutations were done with little hops instead of rolls over the feet. Jazzy, eh? If Volleyball Guy noticed, he didn't say anything. Maybe he thought I was expressing some inner creativity. Maybe at 5:30 AM, he doesn't want to ask what the hell I think I'm doing ;-)

Next Sunday he's doing an adjustment workshop, which I'm looking forward to. Adjustments are fascinating to me. They are such powerful teaching tools. Really a subtle art, I think.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to me. Last night My Gift from the Universe and The Cop and I went out for great Mexican food and spent some excellent quality time together. This morning, both presented me with sweet cards.

Then some email chatting with The Best Friend (She lives in CA. Doesn't technology rock that I can have a best friend in another state?) and a phone call from my parents.

I'm a lucky person.

The Human Route

Coming empty-handed, going empty-handed -- that is human.
When you are born, where do you come from?
When you die, where do you go?
Life is like a floating cloud which appears.
Death is like a floating cloud which disappears.
The floating cloud itself originally does not exist.
Life and death, coming and going, are also like that.
But there is one thing which always remains clear.
It is pure and clear, not depending on life and death.

Then what is the one pure and clear thing?

Toenails

What are they for? Well, to protect the tips of your toes. Do you know where I'm going with this? How many Ashtangis have cut their toenails just a little too short, only to realize it at their next practice?

So that was this morning's complaint. Not bad, really, when the complaint can so easily be injury or aching hamstrings. But sure enough, my first thought after my first vinyasa was: Owie! Too short! Second thought, of course, was: How can I avoid this pain? Oh, I recognize that kind of thinking. It's what happens in the midst of a zazen retreat, when suddenly I have an itch. I remember being tormented by that sort of thing when I first starting sitting practice. Especially at the zendo, where the silence is so profound that the slightest shift sounds unbelievably loud. So you sit and sit, distracted as all get out by the itch on your chin--then maybe you decide to go for it--reach up and scratch: oh yeah, it sounds loud as hell, the sound of the fabric of your sleeve crinkling, the slight shift on the cushion as you move your body, the sound of your fingernails on your skin, the noise you make settling back to sitting. But it's worth it--for the relief from that maddening...hey, wait a minute, now my nose is itchy! Yup. It's an impossible situation, an endless cycle. Try to escape one reality and face yet another. So after a while you learn to just sit. Itchy? Whatever.

So I brought that to my toenail situation. Just another physical bit of suffering that the mind needn't be derailed by. And I also felt a little superstitious--after all, if I found a way to relieve the pain in my toes, what new suffering would I confront? God forbid, the dreaded screaming hamstrings!! ;-) So what do you do when your toes hurt? Just practice.

Today I practiced with the wall on one side of me, and The Beautiful One on the other side. She came in at the last minute and scootched into a not-quite spot next to me. It's always a pleasure to practice next to her. And today was no different: I was totally locked in on drishti and bandhas, though kind of shallow on the breathing. It's harder to really get into the breathing during led. Mysore is all one's own practice, but with the added advantage of everyone else's energy. Led, though, is more collective. So a little harder to listen to oneself. That's fine.

And it's a chance for me to see how things are beyond my usual Mysore practice, which ends with bhujapidasana. Let's just say I don't mind being at bhuja, when the next pose is kurmasana. Hopefully a good while at bhuja will whet my appetite for something new and...uh...challenging.

On the mat next door...

And on the mat next door, our guest star for today: Returning Guy. Today I was between the wall and Returning Guy. It is always interesting to me how you can feel someone else's practice. I couldn't understand it at first, why there were people I particularly liked to practice next to, and people I preferred not to practice next to. That may be why led primary on Saturday at the Starbucks of Yoga can be such a crapshoot for me. I just can't transcend my own competitive impulses when I practice next to someone who feels competitive to me.

On the other hand, there are folks I love to practice near--the Big Redhead used to be my favorite, before she went off for a semester abroad. Her practice was so lovely and internal and...well, gracious, somehow. The Dancer is great to practice near: she is astoundingly flexible, and there is a profound delicacy to her movements--almost as if she isn't subject to the same laws of gravity that the rest of us are bound by. The Beautiful One is also nice to practice next to--for some reason her practice reminds me of films I've seen of Sharath: I don't think she adds any aesthetic flourishes to her movements--though I don't know why I think that, since I've never really watched her. The common characteristic of all of these women is that they have very circumscribed practices. They don't "give off" energy--they aren't sending energy out away from themselves. It's like they have delightful psychic boundaries, like little spiritual snowglobes. Okay, I guess I've pushed that a bit too far ;-) But still, it's an interesting phenomenon.

Returning Guy also has a circumscribed practice. He's not a "graceful" type--but he doesn't seem to be pushing to make up for that by muscling through his practice. He just feels really even-tempered and relaxed and good-humored and conscious.

So this morning as I was driving to Volleyball Guy's I realize I don't have a hair tie. Nor anything in the car that can be fashioned into one. I tried a little something with the cleaning cloth I got with my sunglasses, but no go. So I practiced tie-less. Keep in mind that I have an unruly mop of hair that is highly humidity-sensitive. It was quite a wreck. I had to just be disciplined and rule out the extra vinyasa of unsticking my hair from my face on every pose. And Volleyball Guy kept apologizing for stepping on it during backbends. Okay, lesson learned: keep billions of hair ties in the car.

Today's practice was lovely, with particular sweetness in sirsasana and padmasana. I think I was in a heavy meditation kind of mode this morning. Suddenly, on my way home, I wondered about drishti. Is drishti a means of getting inside oneself? Or is it really important to focus on the drishti point? If I am looking in the direction of my thumbs, but my gaze is totally unfocused and internal, do I need to get back outside myself a bit and actually focus more on the thumbs?

Oh well. It's such a nice day (and Sunday is my birthday) that I've decided to use one of my accrued sick days. I'm going back to bed!!

Square One

Square one is always there, waiting. This morning, home practice. And I noticed, as I have the past couple of practices, that I am really feeling smooth in Surya A and B. Recently, the Suryas are a delicious kind of pleasure, somehow more integrated than they've ever been. Not a set of motions, just a single, extended movement. I count, in Sanskrit, the vinyasas, and it is like counting the breath in zazen: your mind detaches, but you don't lose your place; you let go of control and it ticks away like a perfect, peaceful clockwork.

The other thing I noticed was how tough Virabhadrasana A and B are, when I get really low into them and breathe. Volleyball Guy has an obsession with the Virabhadrasanas. He's always after folks in led class to get lower, to be mindful, to breathe--I guess it drives him mad to see us dash through them and on to Dandasana. It's easy, though, to take the Viras for granted. After all, everyone starts their yoga education with them. Any yoga class in any studio or gym in the world teaches Viras to new students. So it's pretty easy to think of them as means to an end--easy "beginner" poses that get you where you want to go, i.e., to the sitting poses. So Volleyball Guy calls us out on it every single time. I imagine, from his perspective, we all look like trail horses running for the stables once we get close enough to smell hay.

So today I was in Vira A, and then Vira B, and I had the rather ego-bruising realization that these ostensibly "easy" poses have a good bit of bite to them. So maybe I am not really "getting" anywhere, as I amuse myself with so-called "progress" to "harder" poses. Maybe square one is always there. Maybe that's the whole point.

And an amusing side-note: As I was finishing up, My Gift from the Universe, fresh out of bed, peeked her head into the livingroom. "Aren't you usually done by now?" she asked. When I said yes, she said, "I thought so. That's why I came to find out what was breathing in the livingroom."

Joy of Janu

Lots of people at Volleyball Guy's this morning. Nice and warm by the time I got there. I'm tempted to pronounce the sleeping-with-extended-legs experiment a total success, but I don't want to jinx it. Let's just say that I can get my palms flat on the floor by dve and trini on my second, possibly third, Surya A. Woohoo!

Bikram Teacher was at the shala today. She was moaning again, but this time Volleyball Guy started moaning as well, louder and louder, until everyone was laughing.

I found myself actually enjoying Janu A this morning--which is unprecedented. I still have lots of resistance to the second side of Janu B. No idea why. I can work my way deep into it, but the initial feeling I have as I start it is a panicky, "Oh no, not this!" Last week I was wondering why I suffer so much during the Janus--today I find myself blissed out in the midst of them. Go figure.

I asked Volleyball Guy about my balance in Marichy D. His answer, delightfully enough, was about what I need to be practicing in Marichy A. About getting my femur back more on the raised knee side. Bhujapidasana continues to elude me, but uddiyana bandha seems to be the key. Now I just have to find it ;-)

And as I was driving home, I remembered that I forgot Purvottanasana. I used to hate Purvottanasana, but have since grown to actually love it. But it's the posture I most frequently forget. I think because I am stressing about the approach of Ardha Baddha Padma Paschimottanasana, which always feels kind of unpleasant.

Apparently there is a plan afoot for us all to attend a mid-morning Bikram class on Thanksgiving Day. Not sure if I want in on that. But a funny notion, nevertheless.

Yin

Waaaaaay yin. I feel happy in that ethereal, yin sort of way. Why? 'Cause of Halloween chocolate, of course.

We had few visitors last night--but they sure were cute. My Gift from the Universe dressed up like a goth fairy and went to a party over the weekend--her boyfriend was Indiana Jones. But they're too old for trick or treating. Last night they just ignored the costumed kids at the door. The Cop was mildly amused by it all, and the dog was beserk about the doorbell ringing. I had a bunch of chocolate, and it totally rocked. And today is a moon day. Life is good.

The new moon energy corresponds to the end of exhalation--a contracting, downward moving force that makes us feel calm and grounded, but dense and disinclined towards physical exertion.

It sounds like new moon is yang, and full moon is yin--by my own (likely naive and mistaken) macrobiotic system. So I've established a kind of equilibrium with the yin of the chocolate hangover and the yang of the moon. Not bad.

My most current experiment (the spirit of research is alive and well) continues. Hypothesis: sleeping with my legs curled up makes my hamstrings stiff in the morning. Therefore, sleeping with legs extended will mean less-stiff hamstrings. So far, it seems to be true. The experiment will continue. After all, it's not enough to practice, write about practice, and think about practice. One must keep it going, even while unconscious.

Hmmmm....chocolate for breakfast? No. Better not. Surely that's the road to ruin.