So the hurricane did no happen and I can leave as planned. That word plan has no credibility with me after all this back and forth. I am packed for half a month in a carry-on from IKEA. hope it does not burst and fall apart. Yes I have a duffel bag for shopping damages somewhere in there. So here is what I think is going to happen blog wise.
- from what I see on instafacetwitter A LOT is happening on that yatra and there is no way to document it all or otherwise I will miss it, and end up like those people that miss the event trying to take a selfie.
- It will be a “bit” (lol) superficial since I am not a religious scholar or an asana expert. Even if it blows my mind, it’s like instagram- the blood moon was way better in real life, and my description/shot will not do the event justice.
- wi-fi questions about access in Uttarkashi have been met with avoidance and generalities ( I say that with zero animosity and tons of good humor) so you know the answer to that one. I may have to share when I am back.
- I am such a dork, I am already calling the Himalayas the HimAlias
This is the most un yogic, unkind, un pretty, but still pretty fearless thought I have had since practicing made me less of a problem child in a body of a grown woman. I’m hoping that blurting it out will get it out of my system:
To all those mostly men who voted to shut down Planned Parenthood: This is what I wish for you- One day science will make it possible to surgically implant some sort of uterus device into a man where a fertilized egg can be placed to thrive. Against their will of course,so they get a feel for what is being asked for when rape results in pregnancy. After nine months of nurturing the sanctity of life, a C section can be performed ( not fun as a remember, but survivable ). Watch them scream take “it”out! when the contractions barely begin,( or whatever alert their body ends up giving for ready to roll). I bet they would all claim it is a cancerous growth that needs to be removed because it is life threatening.
Some days chitta vritti nirodha does not happen, but that is no reason to not try again tomorrow. My bad not the yoga method.
My good FB buddy Lisa Hill is an ashtanga teacher(who is awol from her excellent blog) maintains the feed of Ashtanga Yoga Chicago over at Facebook with consistent and up to date Ashtanga news, teachings, and opinions. She recently posted this on the group feed and asked to start a dialogue/conversation. Here is my very personal opinion. Opinion, not ruling,or law, or edict. If you are a teacher, who no longer will practice or offer Mysore style & guided classes, please do provide a PSA to your students letting them know you quit Ashtanga. If you have are famous on youtube, snapchat, Instagram, and twitter for your asana demonstrations, instructional videos, or beautiful photos and have a ton of followers, do announce as well, because someone is going to ask where did you go? The rest of us? No matter how how heartfelt our blogging or our practice was and for how many years, and how bad the injuries, or how many awful Ashtangis you know, we should follow this sage advice offered by Peg Mulqueen on her feed not long ago:
Oh, but you say, what about an abusive teacher or a studio that runs away with your money, or, or uh, I dunno. I’ll listen and thank you for the tip. but don’t blame it on Ashtanga, Ashtanga is not a person, or a disease, or an act of nature. it is a portion of your day where you sweat, breathe and try not to screw yourself.
It might be a combination of all these things below, or my powers of auto suggestion which others may refer to as flaky, or just plain coincidence and random generosity from un embodied energies. I had a soulful satisfying practice that has provided dopamine and serotonin to share.
Who knows, maybe teacher brought some shakti and other good juju from Command Central inside her presence, and I am not the only one risking being considered “impressionable” in less polite terms.
I do know that it was 90 degrees outside when I showed up and you know the people who were finishing warmed it even more for us. Sweat was leaving my body in quantities never before noticed. I don’t enjoy a rug but I kept wishing for a rug, because there was no need to be squirting and spraying water all over everything for seated poses.
Slippery arms help all sorts of binds.
Enjoyed a slow count. That sounds almost offensive to me ears if I say it aloud.
The first no drama headstand away from the wall. I don’t expect a repeat but I enjoyed it.
I’m glad teacher expects a repeat because one of her biggest take aways from her August at KPJAYI was that transformation keeps happening, no matter how long or how recent your time practicing has been. The secret ingredient seems to be when the teacher and the student both believe in miracles when coming to the mat. Then you can begin to identify and recognize the miracles outside the mat.
I notice that whenever I sound corny it’s because I’m happy. Incredible, we have been conditioned to be embarrassed about sounding happy.
Folks, I am arriving to the part where my practice shows me that telling the story of my practice is becoming something sort of unrelated to my practice. I am at the point where I realize that I practice to interrupt the vrittis which later return here (and elsewhere) as the story of what happened, or what I think happened, or worse: What I think will happen next. Other times it is an exercise in standing out or self identifying as being in the correct team (Ashtangi) or as separating myself by being against exhibitionism, through asana, or intellectual mental gymnastics, and against commercialism through those two methods as well. None of those identifications are necessary for completing a practice. My story only means that what I narrate concurs and flows with the stories from others, and their stories resonate with me. It only means that the stories of others, mess up my narrative and create dissonance. My like or dislike of their stories or mine do not make them accurate or real. If I could describe what really happens during yoga practice (so tempted to put an acronym here) it would be an attempt to describe the finding of space that remains open and unfilled.
Sweet baby Jesus, there is currently a shit storm brewing on Facebook that was conjured during the comments on Matthew Remski’s post on his retelling of the interview that Kino gave him after he highlighted her injury report on her FB page. Shit storm is no longer about Kino and her hip, no Sir. Actually hard to tell what it is about right around now. And you know I do not have the credentials, the academic skills, or the discipline to follow what is really going on. All I know is that right around now talk about White privilege, colonization, feminism, racism, and cultural appropriation is hopping. And not just among yogis who know a thing or two about throwing shade. Salon, Slate, TheAtlantic and NYmag all have pieces on these topics this week.
This is not even what I wanted to blog about today. I wanted to recommend. Ta-Nehishi Coates’ book; The World And Me. I am being educated and made aware of things a 57 year old white latin woman had no idea about, through a very fine piece of literature.
Just finished reading Annie Lamott’s Facebook post on her 29th recovery birthday and it made me realize that we all use something or another to blunt the panic and fill the holes. We spend so much time judging comparing an overanalyzing each other’s method or substance of choice, that it is hard to realize that we use that too as a way to calm the fuck down and feel better about how we go about administrating our fix. Today I experienced how we can be so successful in blunting the feeling or filling the hole, that we can loose the ability to communicate with parts of our bodies. I was convinced that I tilted my pelvis when I needed to perform certain asanas. It turns out that it is all in my head. My pelvis has not heard or understood a single request so far. I have several ideas on why I just only now realize this, but that is a longer post than the ones I prefer to write. Annie Lamott says that “why?’ is not a useful question. All I know is that yoga is a circumstance that fosters the communication and the exploration of those spaces and parts of yourself that you thought where holes and you sealed up or cut off a regular conversation with. There are other places and possibilities to do that. Not just through yoga. Just let’s not get all wound up and bent out of shape when someone slips and scrapes their knee or twists an ankle while trekking the valley or the summit. I don’t know shit about baseball but Annie says that Grace bats last, and that’s how we will all recover from using.