Yay, a day off. I kept putting off my day off last week, because of the last Mysore practice at the old shala on one day, then last led class at the old place the next day, then first improv class at the new one (couldn’t miss that!), and then yesterday, first Mysore practice. I was very ready to sleep in this morning. I guess Tuesday may be my new day off. Do I really have to take one? 😉
Honestly, this backbending work is intense: I feel kind of disoriented emotionally and my back is sore! Not the lower back, but all through the upper back. Interesting stuff is even going on in the intercostals. I ordered the “rack,” which comes highly recommended by Linda. The place that makes these props is actually in the Phoenix area’s south valley (I’m in the northeast valley), so it ought to be arriving at the end of this week or beginning of next at the latest. I’m psyched! Really hoping this tool will help work out some of the upper back/shoulder stuff. Plus, if there’s one thing I love almost as much as little technology gadgets, it’s yoga stuff. I have my rope wall, my crash pad, and soon, my rack. Forget about turning Japanese; I’m turning Iyengar!
And in other object news: I have a new car. I’ve most recently owned (and deeply loved) an aqua 1996 Jeep Cherokee. It came with me on camping trips (perfect to sleep in, since I’m so little!) and climbing road trips (where even from 700 feet up, I could see its rectangular blue-green body safely ensconced on the earth I was praying I’d return to, ideally slowly, still attached to my rope and feet-first). The Cop, though, who loves to hang out in the garage and work on cars, knew that the only thing I could possibly love more than the old Cherokee was a nice Wrangler. So he procured a beautiful Sahara Wrangler, lifted it, gave it shiny wheels, and suggested I drive it. And I fell in love. Thanks, Cop!
A couple of days ago, he traded the Cherokee for an old CJ5. His new project. It was kind of sad seeing the Cherokee drive away. Funny, how we get attached to mechanical things.
One of my meetings just got cancelled because someone is sick. I now have two hours of time to actually work. Which means, time to blog! Nah. Just this little note. Now back to the grind.
Filed under: ashtanga yoga |
donutszenmom 
Uh oh. The Editor might be due for the rack. He thinks it is not ok to have yoga props around the house, but might be secretly grateful for it.
A story. His backbending saga is taking place in a whole alternate universe from ours–one which makes thoughts that we could ever be sucky backbenders (is that the phrase you mentioned the other day?) quite funny. He has kyphosis. It was awfully severe until maybe two years ago, when he decided he wanted to change it. (When he was about 10, doctors wanted to operate. His parents decided for physical therapy instead, but then his mom told him it wasn’t important that he do the PT exercises. Weird.) Anyway, I tell all this as background because it’s interesting to imagine what he is really feeling in savasana. His description is: ‘It’s like my whole body is supple and tingly and refreshed, but there is this huge block of concrete between my shoulder blades. There’s not even sensation there–it’s just a block of concrete.’ Maybe the rack can repossess a few inches of that concrete, but kapotasana is a lifetime or two away.
Oooh, The Editor would not like my yoga room. When we moved into our new house, I decided — as a “SO LITTLE” (ref: ezBoard thread) Ashtangini — that a dining room was entirely unnecessary. What to do with that space? Yoga props!! Yoga books!! Yoga mats!!
If he is in a process of transformation, would it really be a lifetime or two? I’m always sad when people project into future lifetimes. Not sure why. But perhaps a rack! I am so eager to try it and will certainly let you know how I like it. I am imagining it to be quite magical, so perhaps a perfect prop to change The Editor’s mind about yoga paraphernalia.
Aw geez, now I want a rack! I was going to buy an ice cream freezer instead but the rack looks awesome.
Hey OvO, if you’re following this — I have kyphosis too. Long story short… I went from having a block between my shoulderblades just like The Editor describes to now having weird tingly (there’s that word, Karen) sensations. Things are waking up. It’s so bizarre.
Great, will be curious about the rack. About projecting into future lifetimes, you’re right that it’s sad. What I meant is that I actually think he may undergo a few “lifetimes” in the next few years as he drastically changes his body. My pre-astanga years were so differently experienced that it was in a sense a previous life.
I only fancy reincarnation as a metaphor, but as you’re probably starting to notice, I abuse metaphors very very badly. Moderation is needed.
Your yoga room sounds sweet. Some day. It’s cool to have my home practice be in the kitchen, because consecrating THAT as a sacred space is damn good practice. However, having a set-apart sacred space would be ideal. For now, since I possess certain size characteristics (here: advantages), the space between the stove and the bar table fits no problemo.
LOL! I used to practice in the foyer in our old house. I loved it, practicing among The Cop’s shoes, My Gift’s cast-off sweaters, etc. I finally got bhujapidasana one day when I thought to grab a sweatshirt that’d been thrown there and fashion it into a pillow for my inevitable crash.
Yes, to a few lifetimes for The Editor (and all of us) in the next few Ashtanga years. One Ashtanga year = a lifetime?
I asked a lama once if he thought the concept of reincarnation was intended as a metaphor (I know I’ve mentioned this story several times on this blog, but I love it) and he said, “What difference does it make?” At which point I stopped caring if it was a metaphor or not. Now if someone asks, “Do you believe in reincarnation?” I can say, “Yes.” And then if someone asks, “Do you believe in reincarnation?” I can say, “No.” What a great zen present from Lama Kadag!
YM, Get an ice cream freezer AND a rack. Though, as I understand it, you may have had enough of vacation (represented by such idyllic items as ice-cream freezers) and be ready to get back to the grind (represented by racks)!
Yogamum: awesome!!! I will tell him. I bet melting the concrete has been more interesting and inspiring than I can imagine.
I guess Ashtanga years are even longer than dog years. But I think the years are longer at the beginning– a relativity thing.
Longer at the beginning? You think? Are you a forward-bender or a backbender by nature? I’m feeling time stretch out a bit more with the backbendings of intermediate. The forward stuff is more my game, so the information of primary seemed easier to integrate.