The things that were going through my head during practice this morning would make my grandmother faint. My mind was being so grumpy! My inner being became a pouting, sneering five-year-old with a overly-colorful vocabulary. It was rather humorous to observe, really, but I couldn’t stop it. Well, I guess it would be more accurate to say I didn’t try to stop it. I’d be doing, say Setu Bandhasana, thinking, “Goddamn f@#king Setu Bandhasana,” all the way though, yet it would be a lovely posture. I was enjoying myself during practice despite the pouty-grumpy mind.
So strange. Strange things are happening with my practice in general. Since my little pit-orchestra day, it’s like I’ve pulled out some kind of stopper, ripped off the duct tape, opened the floodgates of effing strange. I’ve been having really long, vivid dreams. I blame second series. All this backbending craziness. I’m trying to take it really easy in my progress through the series to keep the mental weirdness at a level I can manage. Goddamn yoga.