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This morning I was dogged by physical reality. I woke up feeling kinda crummy–puffy eyes, stuffy head, general sluggishness. Could I be sick? Should I have a day off? Nah! It’s harder, psychologically, to take a day off than to go to practice. And if I skip practice, I feel kind of creaky all day–like I don’t have enough space in my joints. So I went.

Quiet when I got to Volleyball Guy’s house. Just Returning Guy and The Other Dave. And the space heater. Mmmmmm. I start in on my suryas and notice something interesting. Both of my nostrils are stuffed up. Huh, I wonder why I didn’t notice that on the drive over… I wonder how I managed to breathe… Oh well. Nothing a little forceful ujjayi breathing won’t solve, right? It didn’t sound pretty, but Returning Guy and The Other Dave are loud, so my labored breathing was drowned out.

Okay, that problem solved. On to the next. I don’t know about everyone else, but at some point in almost every practice (usually in the marichys), I find myself recalling what I had for dinner the night before. This morning I was remembering during surya Bs. Not a good sign. Spicy tofu. What was I thinking? I manage to be disciplined and focused on any number of things, but for some reason, the simple practice of not eating spicy food the night before Mysore always eludes me. Zen monks, in their precepts, swear off onions, garlic and other spices. I always kind of wondered why that’d be included in their precepts, and I figured maybe it was so they wouldn’t have bad breath in the zendo. Now, though, I think it’s because practicing (Ashtanga or zazen) on a busy stomach is really distracting.

As I am reconciling myself to my stuffy nose and yucky stomach, more folks arrive. Sanskrit Scholar, The British Director, and Surfer Girl, a very sweet, very tall advanced practitioner. And Mona, who sets up between me and Surfer Girl.

Mona moans. Oh boy. I think this is my shala pet peeve. If the moaning is conscious, it’s kind of a weird attention-getting device. If it’s unconcious…well, isn’t that rather odd? Don’t get me wrong–I’m unconscious during practice as much as the next person. But I come around every so often and I’m sure I’d notice if I was moaning all the time.

So Mona moans, and she does not recognize that Surfer Girl or I exist. Her practice is not adjusted according to those around her. She smacks me a couple of times, smacks Volleyball Guy when he’s adjusting me, and I hear Surfer Girl apologizing a couple of times, no doubt because Mona has smacked her, too. Okay, as I’m typing this, I’m laughing, but I was kinda irritated at the time.

You know when someone’s doing seated poses behind you and it’s time for your prasaritas? Don’t you adjust yourself up or down your mat so that when you fold, you won’t be breathing (or moaning, as the case may be) directly onto the person doing seated poses? Just a thought.

I suppose it’s evident that practice this morning was about physical reality. Nothing in the way of transcendence for me. No idea what the lesson may be in this. Just the facts, ma’am.