Practice has been sporadic again recently - Thanksgiving, finals, impending Christmas doings. But I practiced in the 12:30 room today: only five of us, all self-practice. Today practice and I had a fight; practice was vicious and I was angry. Funny, that language. "It's out to get me!" My body didn't cooperate, mostly; unstable, no core strength. My right hip gave some, which was interesting, but not consistent. We're working further into my hip, further back.
I could get up into
handstand but couldn't stay up; I fell over in headstand and fell
dropping back. Miyagi says Kurmasana and Supta Kurmasana are coming,
though I can't tell; he says he can see it and I believe him.
Marichyasana A had weird hip stuff today.
I really didn't want a
crack-me-open practice, not today, but it just kept hammering away. I
got to Baddha Konasana and was pushing hard, purposefully, bulling my
way into the pain with a sort of, "I hope you get hurt, you
stupid body, it would serve you right," sort of feeling - I observed
this, realized what was happening, and stopped right there. None of that
- not here, not today. Catharsis, sure. Intentional harm no. Went
straight to backbends and closing series.
I feel like I'm in a
holding pattern right now, the edge of an opening. A year in (maybe a
little less?). I can do every pose in primary, at least in a modified
fashion. On a really phenomenal day I can sail through everything but
the Kurmasanas, no problem. Most days, practice is a mess - not neat,
not clean, not pretty, not fun, and doesn't always feel good. More
recently there's been a lot of anger and some hardened-up tears. Weird
bodily sensations. "Yoga gets better, worse, or weirder," Miyagi says.
thing, I think, has been that practice and I have established our own
relationship. A thing that we do, a place and time, a history. There's
lineage, of course, the teacher-student connection; Miyagi has become a
friend as well as a teacher - but the real relationship is between me
and practice. There's love and devotion there. A home.