Clams, Traps, Triumph

Yay! No clam shack smell in the yoga room today. I did, after Cody identified the shack in MA to which I was referring, think about how it used to be crowded on the weekends. And figured that perhaps the crowds are why he prefers a different place. And then it dawned on me that the last time I was there was 30 years ago… I’ll bet it is considerably more crowded now. And I imagine the place looks exactly the same. No more and no less funky.


My traps. Damn my traps.

This morning, in my carefully-selected-so-as-not-to-get-me-all-wound-up pre-practice reading, Owl was talking about stress in the jaw, and Vanessa said something about thinking of her body as soft. I was quite struck by this, because while I sometimes think of my body as bendy or flexy (on good days), I am VERY reluctant to think of it as soft. Why? ‘Cause of the association with fat/weak.

But there is the softness of yielding and flexibility and openness.


So today I thought of my body as kind of taffy-like. Versus how I usually think of it, which is more like steel cables. An association which leads to my current traps issue. As is the case with most of my “openings,” there is a penultimate stage where the muscles are horribly tense and sore. And then, finally, they knock it off entirely and there is a new way of being.

Perhaps there is an easier way? This morning, between the relaxation of the jaw and the meditating on my body as soft, I had a lovely practice. I was actually surprised to find that I could physically do things, even while leaving my body to be “soft.” Such an option had never occurred to me.

Duh, again.


The Cop got marichy B on one side this morning. Triumph! I’m really proud of him.

Tonight, at our Tuesday night dinner at the favorite sports bar, I am going to review Raja Yoga with him. I’ll feel negligent if I don’t at least outline the system for him.


9 Responses

  1. You’ve got gym rat hangover. I used to think that anything less than steel abs/legs/arms was just undesirable. Then, through yoga, I watched, amazed, my legs get softer but stay fairly strong, and I started digging it. It makes me feel more feminine, which is good for me as I tend to be way too yang and not tend to my yin nature, which also needs nourishing.

  2. It’s interesting how this softness idea is resonating with each of us. The commonalities all around. Maybe easiest to find the virtues of softness in the places–jaw, traps–where tons of tension is not only painful but kind of useless even for the active/strong/yang agendas.

    Peace to your traps as the put up their final long resistance. I see this process happen over the course of a 5-breath adjustment… so interesting to consider a longer version of that process taking place.

  3. I totally have gym rat hangover! I am sooooo much softer than I’ve ever been, and I didn’t think it freaked me out anymore, but this morning I realized that even though I see the physical fact that I have lost a lot of muscle, I am not soft in my own mind. I’m like someone who has lost a hundred pounds and still carries the fat self-image inside. I have the must-be-strong-at-all-costs mentality.

    Interestingly, I have never been a yin kind of gal, but with my husband being uber-yang-boy, my yangy self actually seems yin by comparison. (Now there’s a sentence I can, as someone who tends to scoff at new-ageism, be ashamed to have written, eh?) The point being, there are miles to go before I’m yin.

    And yes, Owl, I can easily accept the idea of soft jaw/traps, but making it happen is another thing. And the very notion of soft legs/tummy/arms? Nah, the gym rat cringes.

  4. Well, I absolutely adore my new soft legs. The tummy needs a bit more effort on my side to be loved, but the legs are fab 😀

  5. Congrats to The Cop for the Marichy B!!!!!!!

  6. I have a rathskeller hangover.

    (first woodman’s and now the rat! okay, Karen, I swear that’s the last old boston reference I’ll make. They closed that place years ago and the entire kenmore square has been ripped down, turned into a luxe hotel, and cleaned up.)

  7. My “triumph” was short-lived. On the very next jump-through I caught and cracked the big toe of my right foot, the toe that’s been broken about 83 times. Another karmic debt repaid …

  8. The Rat is gone?? I was there a lot in the late 70s. Went to Mass College of Art for undergrad — just up the road from the Rat. Is Cantone’s still around? I can’t imagine they are still a punk hangout. It was a cool place, down on Milk Street in the financial district. Italian restaurant by day, punk hangout at night.

  9. Have no fear, Indianapolis has its own Rathskeller…you can borrow ours!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: