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Yay! No clam shack smell in the yoga room today. I did, after Cody identified the shack in MA to which I was referring, think about how it used to be crowded on the weekends. And figured that perhaps the crowds are why he prefers a different place. And then it dawned on me that the last time I was there was 30 years ago… I’ll bet it is considerably more crowded now. And I imagine the place looks exactly the same. No more and no less funky.

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My traps. Damn my traps.

This morning, in my carefully-selected-so-as-not-to-get-me-all-wound-up pre-practice reading, Owl was talking about stress in the jaw, and Vanessa said something about thinking of her body as soft. I was quite struck by this, because while I sometimes think of my body as bendy or flexy (on good days), I am VERY reluctant to think of it as soft. Why? ‘Cause of the association with fat/weak.

But there is the softness of yielding and flexibility and openness.

Duh.

So today I thought of my body as kind of taffy-like. Versus how I usually think of it, which is more like steel cables. An association which leads to my current traps issue. As is the case with most of my “openings,” there is a penultimate stage where the muscles are horribly tense and sore. And then, finally, they knock it off entirely and there is a new way of being.

Perhaps there is an easier way? This morning, between the relaxation of the jaw and the meditating on my body as soft, I had a lovely practice. I was actually surprised to find that I could physically do things, even while leaving my body to be “soft.” Such an option had never occurred to me.

Duh, again.

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The Cop got marichy B on one side this morning. Triumph! I’m really proud of him.

Tonight, at our Tuesday night dinner at the favorite sports bar, I am going to review Raja Yoga with him. I’ll feel negligent if I don’t at least outline the system for him.