Feeling light (everybody poops)

Spent some time kicking, floating, falling, and jumping back from pincha today. My practice is short, which is nice because I have lots of time to play! I've managed to land in chaturanga, however the hand shift is going to take some time. I was able to bend my knees on two attempts in pincha to get that "whip" effect. I'm still learning and have a long way to go.

Confession: I was super stressed out yesterday pre-practice about poop. Yes, poop. I often have a bit of a not going problem. I have myself on a very strict daily routine all catered around producing a deuce. I've pretty much given up on the pre-practice empty-out and on days when it does happen, I'm thrilled. My practice is lighter, my bandhas are stronger, and it just feels healthier. So anyway, I was pretty stressed out thinking there was no way I'd be able to do anything because I was bloated and etc. I had to not think about it and just practice.

It is interesting to me how growing up in magazines and such I've learned that a couple of times per week is normal. But now, I realize there is a difference between something being "normal" and something being "common". With the quality of food and diets here in the US, it is no wonder that every other TV ad is for a fiber supplemented product. I've been on an India-themed book reading spree, and they have all in some way made reference to the act of the daily deed. For instance, in Shantaram, the main character goes out to the river to do his doo with everyone else in the slum early in the morning. I have never been able to go on demand (obviously).

But I think that over time, yoga really gets us to pay attention to ourselves. Guruji says to "control" your anus. This implies not only your mulhabandha, but also your entire digestive system. Perhaps over time with yoga, we learn to be mindful about the crap we put into our bodies so that at the end of the day, we are able to get it out.

I love when I get really deep into practice. When I don't think about getting up to go and still end up walking through the door. It is during these times that I really am conscious about my body, thinking of my food as fuel, and forging a mind/body dialogue. I think part of it is being able to see every twenty four hours that my body is capable of much more than sitting, walking, seeing, talking, thinking, and tasting. After witnessing that, I can't help but want to do everything I can to support this amazing vessel. For all the time I've spent hating and trying to improve my body, feeling this way is such a gift. Thank you ashtanga! Thank you Guruji!

More about poop than you ever wanted to know: the Bristol Stool Scale

PS- pincha mayurasana has improved my drop backs!

PSS- David Williams says that yoga has a 24 hour expiration date.

No fearing!

I knew I had to do it by myself. You see, I am afraid of falling. Right before headstand or any other arm inversion, I think briefly about toppling forward into, well, into what I'm not sure. The unknown? I am afraid. Then I tell myself, very compassionately, to shut up and get on with it.

So I put my forearms down on the rug and I know that I need to figure it out myself. I kick and kick and fall and do some floating and then "pphhmp!" I got it. And then I land. I could detect some movement in my arms and I think I end up elbows up, but can't recall. But I'm determined. I must figure this out by myself, so I try again. More kicking, some floating, and then that's when I feel it. At a certain point I can remember seeing the golden thread of my rug and then my sense of "self" moves up my spine to this mass hovering in the sky. I hold forearm stand and then land in chaturanga all by myself! Hands might have moved back about an inch. At this point I'm having fun and go again. I remember that feeling. It felt like how that alien thing looks in the movie version of Naked Lunch. You know, the part where Bill finds Joan in Interpol and the typewriter turns into this pink throbbing skeleton pelvis butt thing? Well that's what I was looking for as I hop my legs up. Sure enough I felt it, held it, and again landed with small hand movements detected.

"Imagine how surprised you'll be when you come up next week in karandavasana," my teacher laughs. "I better not eat for a week!" I joke, remembering the extremist behaviors of led second series peeps in Mysore. "Only chapatis," he says as I drop back, still laughing.