Self-inflicted

Had to work around a little injury this morning. A self-inflicted one. Yesterday, at work, I threw open a door and bashed myself in the knee. Graceful! I was just happy I didn’t manage to hit myself in the head and give myself a head injury.

I felt dumb when I did it, and dumb again this morning when I had to work around it. You’d think I’d have the door-opening business down by now.

Nothing much to report from this morning’s practice. I had a good bit of frustration around urdhva dhanurasana. I just can’t seem to get the straight arms thing going. And I can’t for the life of me figure out what the problem is. I’m strong enough, but there seem to be counterforces at work: perhaps tight triceps? Biceps? Something weird about the shoulder rotation?

Good reading this morning: Novice to Master: An Ongoing Lesson in the Extent of My Own Stupidity, by Soko Morinaga.

When you maintain the straight-forward frankness of your own mind as it comes to life each instant, even without effort, even without training, you are beautifully born with each instant. You die with each instant, and go on to be born again, instant by instant… When you go to the kitchen to prepare dinner, be born in the kitchen. When you finish there, die. Then be born at the dining table as you eat your dinner and, when you finish eating, die there. Be born in the garden, and sweep with your broom. When you get into bed at night, die there. And when you awaken at daylight, be born anew… Always now — just now — come into being. Always now — just now — give yourself to death. Practicing this is Zen practice.

Just remembered that there is a global conference call tomorrow morning at 5 AM. Which means no Mysore practice. Gah! I hate when my schedule is disrupted. Perhaps I will treat myself to led class tomorrow afternoon.

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3 Responses

  1. I’ve been known to smash myself on the face with cupboard doors, if it helps you feel better 🙂

  2. Haha! Yes, that makes me feel MUCH better!

  3. I hit myself in the head with the tailgate door of my van all the time. I pull it down while I’m standing under it. D’oh!

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