Rolling along

Whoa, I’ve been tired. Super tired. Pass out at the end of the day tired.

Too much vata, I think. In part, I just realized, because I’ve been eating fruit for breakfast (smoothie!) and salad for lunch. And running full bore each day at work. Need more warm, oily food, maybe.

I really try to practice zen in the office, which is great for management style, but less great for multi-tasking. If someone comes and sits down in front of me with a question or something on their mind, I put down what I am doing/thinking about. Full attention. And I make myself available for ad hoc interaction.

So lots of days involve hours of paying attention to other people. Which is something I really enjoy. The catch, of course, is that my other tasks can back up. And then I have to really burn through them when I have the opportunity (during lunch, between meetings, at the end of the day — I’m starting to hear from The Cop about how I’m getting home too late). I can accomplish a LOT in a little bit of time, but it takes a kind of turbo-energy that can be draining.

In the end, though, I rather like it. Just need to re-balance the energy occasionally. Look through the work and prioritize and optimize and just generally GTD the whole thing.

Okay, enough about work. Oh, except for this: I wouldn’t be able to get through it without my practice.

***

People keep commenting about how The Cop sounds like their husband/boyfriend/self. Okay, let’s try this one: Last night, at our favorite sports bar, The Cop sat up and stretched. Shoulders back, sat up straighter, was clearly practicing a little pratyahara. I realized he was having a dandasana flashback of sorts. Smiles at me across the table and announces, “I am tightening my anus.”

***

This morning, during his UHP dance, The Cop actually internalized his response. He did not snort or say “motherfucker.” He just hopped, toppled, and regrouped. On the one hand, the yoga is working. On the other hand, I felt a little sad. Perhaps he is being absorbed.

***

My traps are KILLING me. In the same fashion as the collarbones during the supta kurmasana learning curve. Constant, deep ache. I blame the hanging-back dropback prep exercise. I think I need a lighter head.

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8 Responses

  1. the cop doesn’t sound like anyone i know but he sounds like someone i WISH i knew. that is hysterical!

  2. I just laughed out loud. Thank you! I think this morning I said “motherfucker” during UHP. It is becoming the new Pose I Most Hate.

    Hope you had a good day…

    I want artesian bread NOW!

  3. I am not being assimilated. Had Jois been there, I may have shot him …

  4. Ah, end of the swing shift energy. Annnnnd we’re back to square one. 🙂

  5. The Cop may shoot me for saying this, but I think he likes ashtanga because of the rules. Which would make sense since he is in law enforcement.

  6. At the current rate of assimilation I think The Cop is less than a year away from trying to figure out which crystals heal which chakras!

    😉

  7. Either square one or he’s REALLY merging with the system by killing the buddha….

  8. He is most assuredly a Buddha-killer.

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