A little guilty

I feel a little guilty when I decide to stay home and practice, rather than going to Mysore at Starbucks of Yoga. I realize: a) there are plenty of folks who would love to have an opportunity to practice Mysore with a good teacher, b) the folks I practice with are terrific people who have a strong investment in our community, c) Volleyball Guy gives quite selflessly to all of us, d) it's a good idea to contribute to the community of Ashtanga in general.

On the other hand, I feel a great pull to solitary practice. It's familiar--like zazen--a delicate, stabilizing force. I love when practice is divorced from "the yoga lifestyle" and is just a practice in a room with dim morning light. I've always admired the Dalai Lama and the monks who get up in the middle of the night to start their sitting--a sort of integrated biorhythm that is beyond thinking. No "shall I get up?" or "who'll be there?" or "ow, my hamstrings hurt"--just the practice. None of this is easier or more difficult according to where I practice, of course--that part is all in my mind. But it's something that is working in my subconscious at this point. Like a koan, I'll have a look at it and then leave it to its work. Eventually it'll come clear.

All that said, practice at home is an opportunity for adventures in style. I put on a polka dot top and black tights. Went into the livingroom and felt cold. Layered on a camouflage shirt that left the bottom of the polka dot top showing. Still cold. Added plaid pajama bottoms. Passed by a mirror and had to laugh at my get-up. It worked, though. Along with the space heater.

When I got to supta kurmasana, I grabbed a couple of vacuum cleaner belts (popular with Volleyball Guy and Sanskrit Scholar as aids when one is learning to bind). I have a couple left from when I was learning, and I decided to use one for supta k so I could get the hand bind without stretching my shoulders to the limit, figuring that with a little extra mobility I could try to get more happening with my hips/legs/feet. It was quite a thrashing about that took place. I usually go directly from kurmasana into supta k--from that position, my legs are high enough that I can grab my hands. But then, of course, I am "stuck" in the upper body if I want to hold the bind--and then there is little I can do with my legs.

I got the hand bind without the ring (just to practice it quickly), then let go and tried pushing my legs higher up on my shoulders--with my right hand pushing the right calf, then the left hand pushing the left calf. Quite an ugly self-adjustment, I'm sure. It occurred to me that if I were at the shala, someone would have hurried over to help by now. But wait! I'm not done ruining this pose! ;-) Oh no, not by a long shot. At this point, with my hands up at my ankles, I have to rotate my shoulders back for the hand bind. Of course, the flopping makes my feet fall to the floor. I shift my shoulders again and get underneath as much as possible, then go ahead and cross my feet on the floor. More cross than I can usually manage. And then I grab the vaccuum cleaner ring for the hand bind and call it good.

Despite the ugliness, I consider this a rather successful attempt. At the very least, I am beginning to explore how the whole thing works, even if I am kinesthetically clueless. Eventually, something will start to click and I will feel what I'm supposed to be trying to do.

In the spirit of using props, when I got to urdhva dhanurasana, I did the usual three, then broke out my climbing harness. Yup. And a carabiner and a daisy chain. Hooked myself into the higher ropes on the wall, and did some hanging-back pre-dropback practice. On the one hand, I feel like a wimp: I know folks do the hanging back stuff without props. On the other hand: I have ropes on the wall and a harness that's gathering dust. I can use them to spot me. Plus it's fun. At the end, I walked my feet up the wall and stretched my arms back for a nice urdhva d with my upper body and legs parallel to the floor.

Lots of fun before 7AM ;-)

For some reason, I keep thinking of the end of the Diamond Sutra, so I'll end with that:

Thus shall ye think of all this fleeting world:
A star at dawn, a bubble in a stream;
A flash of lightning in a summer cloud,
A flickering lamp, a phantom, and a dream.