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Someone asked for more info about the Freeman workshop, so here goes:

Shoulders: We spent a lot of time on alignment of the shoulders. In particular, during up dog. The tips: pull your upper body through between your arms, use your feet to drag and provide resistance, and make sure to keep some bend in your elbows. The pull of the feet will create a traction effect in the lumbar region, and as we all know, that means the coccyx will then attract the pubic bone, instead of repelling it. Okay, I’m saying that kind of snidely, because when RF says it, it sounds poetic and sensible, and when I paraphrase it, I sound like a nut.

Wings of the kidneys: Yes, he said it. Many times. This is just the sort of thing that makes The Cop howl with derision, but hey, it’s kind of a snazzy catchphrase, isn’t it? The “wings” are related to the T12 “floating ribs.” Actually, maybe they even just are the floating ribs. No matter. We were encouraged not to pinch the wings closed, ever. Well, I’m kind of assuming the “ever” part. Definitely no wing-pinching during up or down dog, or during the arm raising portions of the suryas. The more I think about it, the more I’m pretty sure you just don’t ever do it.

Silly as I’m being, it really is nice to keep that area of the back nice and open. Pretty much impossible to pinch your shoulders shut, too, when you’re stretching through the T12 area. This is quite helpful in downward dog.

Your mouth: Relax it. Bring awareness to the upper palate in relation to your breath, and to the relationship they have with the energy that moves up the spine and through the crown.

Note to self: It would be very useful if I could hire someone to say “your mouth” about every 30 seconds throughout my entire practice.

Cave of the sacrum: Great metaphor. I heard him say it a good while ago and totally loved it from the very first. It makes a perfect kinesthetic sense to me. It was mentioned more over the weekend, though in rather abstract terms. The dealio: be aware of the cave of the sacrum. I have no idea how to explain the physical ramifications of this concept, because every time I hear “cave of the sacrum,” my pose adjusts itself and I have no clear idea about how it really happens.

I believe at some point there was talk of a golden fish in the cave of the sacrum, and then things got all tantric. It’s funny how you get high from these sorts of events. I grabbed a ride back to Scottsdale from Volleyball Guy and Sanskrit Scholar. We stopped for something to drink and Sanskrit Scholar and I stumbled about through a highway mini-mart.

“Are you kind of spacey?” she asked me.
“I feel like we spent the day at the beach,” I said.
And it really was just like that.

Back from a weekend workshop in Tucson with Richard Freeman. Still processing the info (as we were ending, he said, “Don’t worry about remembering what you’ve learned. It will remember you.”) and quite honestly I have no idea whether I will process it all in discursive language — a nice opportunity to use some of that faith that we learn things even if we don’t workshop them in the mind.

Anyhow, the more obvious highlights:

Leg position in Marichyasanas A and C. He explained the bent leg as a “squat.” The leg was pulled back as far as possible, which meant the tibia was not perpendicular to the floor, but the knee was actually out past the toes. I was giddy with glee: I’d always thought that was cheating and that I had to resist the urge to pull my foot way back.

Urdhva dhanurasana set up: we started off on our backs, with legs and arms set up for urdhva dhanurasana. Now, on an exhale, pull with the hamstrings (not the quads) and slide up into a pre-urdhva d position (head on the floor, feet in tiptoes). On the next inhale, rise up into the full pose.

Navasana: a little curl in the coccyx, and keep the muscular action in the upper abs, while releasing the lower back muscles. This action cuts a lot of the psoas tension out of the pose.

Being a traveling yoga teacher is probably rather like being a touring rock star: no doubt you get sick of the repetition. I studied with Allen Ginsberg, and he once told me that it was kind of a drag, how people always wanted him to read “Howl,” and write more poems like it, etc.

I’m feeling a little burnt from practicing seven (and today, eight) days in a row. I’ll skip a day tomorrow. Today, though, I am looking forward to Mysore for a few reasons: I am really open after a bunch of days of practice, I am in a kind of delicate mind-space after doing some traveling (and it’s interesting to see what practice feels like when I’m not in usual everyday mind), and I want a practice in familiar surroundings to indicate to myself that I am back. All kind of weird attachments and detachments borne of travel, but there you have it. I haven’t transcended my attachment to place.