Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Mysore memories

This morning I woke up with a head cold.  Nothing major, nothing to complain too much about, but I felt pretty icky.  When my alarm went off I told myself that I clearly needed one more minute of cozy warm lying in bed time, and then I would get up and make coffee.  One minute turned into 30, so I sprung out of bed half an hour late, dove directly into the steaming hot shower, wriggled half dry into my yoga tights while brushing my teeth and sped off to work on my trusty bicycle.  This is all before 4AM, just for reference as to what it means to "sleep in" these days.  I arrived with a few spare moments and my friend and practice buddy kindly made me a coffee and sat down for a few minutes so we could both wake up a little bit.  No coffee no prana, right?  Getting into practice I had a pretty geriatric start, stiff, achy, too many boogers, but as I worked my way through the standing postures I could feel the snot cloud clearing and my joints softening.  I got to pasasana
and as I wobbled into it (dark room plus clogged sinuses equals no balance at all) I thought of Sharath on my last trip to Mysore.  He looked at my hands and said "good catching," but then moved in for the adjustment to take my weight backwards to shift my heels down to the floor.  The moment he stepped away, I tipped over, and he stood there with his hands on his hips, smiling, and said "use Indian toilet."  It made my practice a little easier to have that little mysore memory pop up when I needed to have laugh at myself.  Some days getting out of bed and getting going is hard work, but I can't think of a time that I regretted it, especially today.

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