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Early meeting this morning. And a late night last night — dinner/drinks at The Cop’s sergeant’s house. We didn’t get home and to bed until (gasp!) 10:30.

So practice this morning saw a tired, grumpy Cop practicing along with me as I zipped through primary. Four breaths per asana. I didn’t tell him about it, because I was curious if he’d notice. He took his shirt off when we finshed up standing poses, looked a bit sweaty at dandasana, and I heard him panting a tiny bit during the marichyasanas.

As we finished up, I asked if practice seemed quick. He said that it did.

“Four breath per pose because of my meeting,” I said.

“More like two breaths.”

Usually he knocks off at navasana, then does his urdhva dhanurasanas, then an abbreviated finishing and a lightning fast savasana. At which point he hops up and makes a run for the kitchen, where his second cup of coffee is waiting. This morning, though, he paused to share his thoughts.

“It’s too bad, really, how you sped through practice and didn’t have time to experience each pose.”

I think he was just messing with me.

***

My persistent pec pain is not subsiding. Why? Well, because I keep pushing at it, tearing into those urdhva dhanurasanas and stretching over the rack. It occurred to me this morning that I might want to back off a tad. I’m never sure how to think about this impulse. With supta kurmasana, it was all about pain in my collarbones for a LOOONG time. And then it went away. Is this the same thing? My usual mode is to ignore pain until I just can’t, and in this case, the pain is not so bad that I can’t keep ignoring it, but when does that add up to negligence?

Or maybe I am just attached to no-pain.

Ah, the slippery slope. Blur those edges of overthinking and ignorance and psychospirituality. The tyranny of hyperarticulation?