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At the zendo on Sunday there was a new monk, sent by Roshi to practice at our zendo and to learn rolfing from Philosophy Monk. He said a few words after zazen, and asked the very evocative question: How do you disappear?

As with most koans, this question has a number of resonances for me: there is an ongoing tension at work over some basic strategy and vision issues. Basically I see one thing and one of my colleagues sees another. Of course it gets polarized and of course I get trapped in it. So the question, How do you disappear? has some interesting implications for me.

I was late getting to the zendo because The Cop got in late from night shift and wanted to talk a bit about a fatal accident he responded to. Transitions from life to death always affect me, so I had those feelings inside me when New Monk asked the question. Zen masters always tell practitioners to work hard, all the time, to reach enlightenment, because you never know how long your opportunity will be.

Once, on the third afternoon of a retreat, when everyone was tired tired tired, Philosophy Monk suddenly shouted really loudly, “Wake up!” It scared the heck out of me. And then I went back to being exhausted. Bad zen lady. He was compassionate in his action, but I didn’t take him up on it.

So I continue to muddle along. That said, sitting practice feels so easy. I will curse myself for saying that, no doubt, when it changes. But for now, sitting is a delight. Thanks to Ashtanga. Sitting Burmese style for two 25 minute sessions is pretty much like…oh, maybe a 40 breath kurmasana that you actually enjoy. LOL! Funny to try to figure out the exchange rate.

This morning was back to Mysore practice. Volleyball Guy, in his own zen wisdom, gave me a super-adjustment in marichy C. Like, an Exorcist-strength adjustment. And then, during marichy D, which is what I am a little over-focused on recently, he just stood there and talked about the pose in relation to me as an individual (versus about me in relation to the pose). And then I got my heels up off the floor in kurmasana. Kinda without even trying. Mostly because I wasn’t thinking about it. Good zen lady.

Practice, practice, practice, and maybe one day I will disappear and wake up.

I had my butt handed to me at led this morning. No idea why, but it was quite a struggle. Hot as hell, of course. (Apologies to everyone who practices in a cold environment–I know my complaints about heat probably seem lame.) I guess it’s summer again in the desert. Mid 80s today, though way warmer in the studio. I practiced between The Beautiful One and The Dancer, and I was across from Sanskrit Scholar. Good company, for sure. The Beautiful One caught my eye a couple of times during practice and grimaced in response to the heat. Made me feel a little better–at least it wasn’t just me.

At led, Volleyball Guy usually goes around the room, doing adjustments one by one. He got to me at marichy A. I love marichy A adjustments. I can bind it up just fine and put my head on my shin, but I really like the extra push. Admittedly, I really covet adjustments in marichy D, supta kurmasana and baddha konasana, but what the heck–the universe is probably dishing out just what I need. I wonder if teachers feel like marichy D, supta K and baddha K adjustments are the special ones that they give out to whoever they like best on any given day. LOL! I guess those adjustments can be seen as both gifts and punishments

I thought a little bit this morning about pain and practice. I had my right knee injury a while back–and that was a real injury, involving a pop and pretty bad pain. But everything I feel now can really be interpreted as “opening” pains: the left hip and knee, the collarbones. It’s all about my body kind of coming undone, letting go of all of the physical habits and imbalances I’ve taken on over the years.

Someone on EZboard made a comment about getting weaker as they get more flexible, and I am feeling something along those lines these days in relation to my shoulders. They are…well, I guess they are opening which means there is a lot more articulation, a lot more range of motion. But at the same time, I seem to not have as much strength. My handstands are pretty darned shaky, and I even notice a shakiness in sirsasana. I think my whole shoulder girdle used to move in one block–and now that it is all loosening up, I am kind of spazzing out. I imagine it’ll all re-coordinate in time.

After practice, My Gift and I went to the mall (yuck!) so she could get prom jewelry. I felt pretty lousy the whole time, just totally drained. Kind of a bummer, because I wanted to spend some quality time with her, but just felt crappy. Maybe watching the electrolytes a bit might be helpful as summer wears on. I kind of imagine those scenarios where the person is crawling in the desert, looking for water. Someone at practice today (I’ll keep her identity a secret, since she is a criminal) had a container she sipped from occasionally. “What are you drinking?” I asked her after class. Her reply? “Chai.” Bad lady. I was so jealous!

I wonder how crim hydration during practice is. How have I managed to come to a point where my greatest transgressions can include things like skipping moon days or drinking liquids during yoga? LOL! Guess I’m just not the rebel I used to be.

Actually, I didn’t swear. The Cop did. I am dying to bring him to class, because he knows enough to get through either a led class or even a Mysore practice, and I think he’d really enjoy it. But geez, he’s going to have to cut back on the swearing during poses. It’s a riot to me, but perhaps not as amusing to the more yogic.

That said, we had a nice little practice this morning. Both of us are running on low, due to colds, but we made a good effort. It is lovely to practice with him: he does not ask a lot of questions, but just keeps an eye on what I’m doing and follows suit. And swears occasionally Utthita hasta padanguthasana is a particular bane. I am eager to get him to class, in part because he needs to see how people like him (i.e., tall men with long legs and a higher center of gravity) do some of these poses. I’m a short gal with short legs and a low center of gravity. Obviously the mechanics are rather different.

In the meantime, My Gift and The Frenchman attended a basics class at The Juicy Studio where she works. When they got back, I asked what he thought of it. His reply? “Apparently I have very good toes.” His favorite pose? “That one at the end.” (Savasana.)

There’s something so cool about seeing people at the beginning of their practice. It inevitably transforms, but you never know how. It eludes ambition and desire and all expectations. Practice will always give you exactly what you need, and it will always be more than you could ever have wished for or even imagined. It’s the best. I swear

There were cars in the parking lot when I got to practice at the new place this morning. Unlike last week, when I was a week early…

Already a bunch of folks in the midst of their suryas. The usual suspects and a few new faces. It was weird to be in a new space–the light felt a little bright and whereas at Volleyball Guy’s place we were so packed in that your drishti got really close, at the Starbucks of Yoga Studio there is enough room that folks spread out and you can see people all the way across the room from you.

Plus the room is round–yes, a cylindrical room. I pretty much hate it, because I can’t orient myself in space (it’s weird how much we expect rooms to be rectangular), and because it is painted white, so basically, it’s like floating in space. Sheesh. I’m sure I’ll get over myself and get used to it. After all, I had a heck of a time at first in the yoga room here in my house: I would flip over in the prasaritas and kind of get vertigo from the vaulted ceiling. I always feel like I am hanging in there, drishti-wise, but apparently there is a split second where I orient myself kinesthetically by looking at the floor or the ceiling. Maybe with lots of practice that will go away. Maybe I will be able to let go of my attachment to up and down and give up that sort of control. In the past, I’ve gotten so relaxed in ardha baddha padmottansana that I start to fall forward. Luckily, the pain of first a right and now a left knee injury keep me from getting too cozy these days and rolling over

So the room was warm and the practice was good. A nice deep hanumanasana, which is kind of funny, because I haven’t been practicing hanumansana and samakonasana at home–it’s been a once-a-week-when-I-have-to-at-Saturday-led kind of thing.

Scary adjustment in the forward bending part of samakonasana (no idea what that’s called…), which is always exciting. My leg was shaking uncontrollably and I suddenly had this urge to do a fake yelp to see how fast Volleyball Guy would jump up. LOL! No, I didn’t do it, but I think it’s funny that I was inventing a little joke even as my nervous system was rebelling. That can only be a good thing.

Volleyball Guy gathered us all together as The Other Dave, who was first to get to closing poses, was finishing up. Everyone into padmasana to chant the Mangala Mantra and Om Shanti, in honor of our new beginning in a new space.

Home really is where the heart is.