Sixty Days: Day 25

Planning an escape/retreat for myself, to Los Angeles. Needing some distance & perspective & yeah, warm sunshine, to see this life of mine, anew.
Class felt like worthy practice.
After a very, very hot & not so humid 90 minutes, locker room talk was entertaining. New victims were upset with the "Listen to the words, don't look around" admonition. One had a Grand Story, possibly even a note from her doctor, justifying her Can't Can't Can't Tale. I said, Well, as long as you're listening to your mind tell you what you can't do in there, you won't be able to listen to the yoga. Should you, however, decide to listen to the dialogue instead of your voices, you'll do great.
Not a popular perspective, I know. American'ts abound! Myself included. Definitely a moment of teaching best what I need to learn most (Richard Bach). Learning is what keeps happening.

Sixty Days: Day 24

It doesn't get easier, it gets better.
Easy is a flowing concept. As one bit eases, another digs into real depth of work. My postures, my thoughts, my life. It's all there: easy bits and working hard bits.
Shifting mental gears, that gets easier. Quieting gets easier. Finding my breath. Taking care of me. Speaking to myself in soothing words amidst chaos. Easier and better.
Hot guns? Bonus!

Oh yeah, 40%!

Sixty Days: Day 23

So much (mental) chaos outside of the studio, it was a treat to just follow today's dialogue.
Today an exhausted C was instructing; we had several giggleasana surprises. And news: 25 Day Holiday Challenge (overlaps my 60 Day) with donation to foodbank in participant's honor and an upcoming January clinic with (somebody famous). I signed up for the the Challenge (Christmas stickers!!!!) and will likely do the clinic.
After class today, I mentioned I would someday like to love the Standing Series as much as I love the Floor. C mentioned my sentiment is opposite of common. No surprise.

C often reads to us during our first (long & sometimes difficult) savasana. I love being read to anyway, her choices are always *spot on* for my life. Today, no exception:

THERE'S A HOLE IN MY SIDEWALK Autobiography in Five Short Chapters By Portia Nelson

Chapter One: I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost .... I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter Two: I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend that I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I am in this same place. But, it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter Three: I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in ... it's a habit ... but, my eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

Chapter Four: I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.

Chapter Five: I walk down another street.

Sixty Days: Day 22

Monkey Mind Practice
I had my favorite goat-chasing instructor, E. My challenge in her class is always to keep my peace, find my breath, shift my perspective. I am always, ultimately, grateful to share this time with her.
Arriving was difficult, once the threshold was crossed, however, my stories quieted to a dull roar.
I realized, while in our savasana, the reason there is constant dialogue in a Bikram room is to keep your own inner (mostly self-sabotaging & defeatist) chatter at bay. For 90 minutes your head is filled with Lock Your Knee, Trust, Do It, So good for you, Find Your Breath, Focus, Meditate, No collapsing, Make up your mind … and the thousands of other golden, empowering nuggets of encouragement. You're taken to your own edge, placed in vulnerable positions (physical & emotional) and filled to the brim with your own power and strength. Like nothing else on the planet. Maybe this is what is feels like to be not-crazy. It sure feels like crazy-reduction, which sounds a lot like quiet. New and very nice for me.

Struggling with your own Monkey Mind Chatter? You owe it to you both (you as mind, you as body) to practice, practice, practice. You're worth it.
Promise.
I can make that promise, as I'm just discovering my own worthiness. Feels great!

Sixty Days: Day 21

Practice with the lovely Miss M (who gives us extra special rest time: shhhh-vasana) and her son, Caspian, the current Boy's Yoga National Champion (*squee*).
Feeling drained and wimpy going in to the studio, knowing my feelings are prone to change with heat & movement. Sure enough, I did much better than I'd expected.
Standing series remains a huge challenge, my balance is still developing! Kicking out in Standing-Head-to-Knee pulls a heretofore unmet screeching muscle all up the inside of my leg, ankle to crotch. Carrying through to Standing Bow Pulling. Yowch! I can take my progress as it comes,  I need not rush things ... One percent the right way, One hundred percent benefit.
To appease the cooperative, non screeching, bits, I bounced deep into triangle pose. My focus is on getting my hips well seated, weight distributed in pelvis, then m'arms be poised for their full expression at toe & ceiling :)
(Photo disclaimer: timer used, taken mid-pose, not full-expression)
Found a big ol kink of sadness in Camel, worked it all out in Rabbit. So cool. So good for me. Three weeks solid. Damn.

Sixty Days: Day 20

Morning practice today, with M. Very chattery monkey mind. Soldiered through an ultimately strong practice. Even on the first day of my cycle!
Even released my conversation about "sh-vasana"

Sixty Days: Day 19

Giggleasana with J-man again! Powerful practice of ev'pose ev'time
Tonight's juicy bits and tips -
Triangle: keep weight centered in pelvis
Locust series: push w/belly & clench glutes
Floor Bow: shoulders down (away from ears, open chest)
Several times today, I caught a quick glimpse of my beautifully shaped & very strong shoulders and arms. A world away from the greatly feared Mrs Vaulkner arms. I took a moment for pride.

Sixty Days: Day Eighteen

30% complete.
Today's teacher, J-man, has the very best laugh which he uses liberally during his stories & during his practice. As a laugher, this is a characteristic I find imperative in one who inspires me. I knew going in, I'd get to giggle back to breath.
My class mantra today: Each pose prepares you for the one next. I found myself posing carefully, to set myself up well for future poses. Deep half moons & an especially intense locust series, I realize there is truth here. I continually wake up new (to my acquaintance) body parts; today was inner thigh bits.
Nearly the end of class and I'm about to put my forehead on my knee (bending my knee to accommodate) for what seems the 857th time and I quickly wonder: What if I don't bend my knee this time? And I happily found out. Oh yeah. Circuit closed.

Sixty Days: Day 17

A loud and chattery practice.
Which means I was sweaty and distracted. Snotty and scratchy.
I actually left the room at one point, coughed to my lungs' desire, and returned to class.
And I finished.
There's nothing poetic to wax nor inspirational to talk about. A tough class. A challenge I face whether I go to yoga or not; showing up at the studio means I'm getting practice with the one tool that works: quiet.

I'm going back again today, Day 18. Focus: Pose, Breath, Stillness

Sixty Days: Day 16

The last two days have been big challenges for my story. Not a specifically diana story, more of a human story: sickness. Hayden returned home from Halloween with some fresh bronchitis germs who happily took up residence in my not-eating-well-enough-Self.
Dragged myself to Bikram, under the weight of my chest elephant and my equally heavy litany of excuses. I was met by J, the sweet looking and gentle sounding drill sargent of an instructor, who said Wait til you get in there before you decide how much you have to offer.
So I stopped the story of limits & chose Wait and See. I found myself sans excuses, sans chatter, and participating deeply in my quiet practice.
Yesterday, now knowing this miracle's availability, I did it again. Every pose, every set. Quietly. Calmly. Efficiently. Well, except when I coughed; I did then jump back into pose. To fall out is human, to jump back in is yogi.
I gave up. A big fat chunk of story, gone. Whew. That feels good.

Never too old, never too bad, never too late, never too sick to start from scratch once again. —Bikram Choudhury