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Waylon is patiently trying to teach Daisy the pulling game. He brings toys and dangles them in front of her, waiting for her to latch on and engage in a tug of war. She is still easily distracted, though — she’ll play for a few moments, then run off to something else. His patience will pay off eventually. I stepped in and played for a bit, but already he prefers playing the game with another dog.

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Waylon makes crazed runs through the backyard — he revs up just outside the sliding glass door in a patch of grass, then speeds across the back yard into the gravel area. There’s a corner with a block wall (where I always worry he’s going to crash) and then an obstacle course of palm tree, creosote bush, sage bush, mesquite tree. Daisy checked out the course last night, climbing up onto the high pile of gravel in the corner, where Waylon’s mad dashes have created a banked turn. This morning she ran after him, floppy and waddling as he tore around the loop. Her running made him even more crazy, so at 5 AM, I was chasing wild dogs through the backyard, trying to at least stay close to her so he wouldn’t bowl her over.

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Daisy woke from her yoga crate nap at setu bandhasana. Uh oh, I was afraid I’d have to bail to take her outside. But she just sat there contentedly. The Cop woke up and took both of the dogs outside as I started backbends. Nice.

Closing poses, I’m in halasana. Daisy waddles over from the kitchen, where she’s just had some water, sits herself next to my head and shoves her soaking muzzle between my thighs and my face. My laughter caught Waylon’s attention, and he came over and shoved his head in, too. Halasana with two wet dog faces. Very funny.

Really, we should call her Tank.

But we’re down to Daisy and Petunia. What would we really end up calling her, though, if we go with Petunia? Probably “Tootie” or something…

Anyhow, she slept (snored!) through the night. Got up at 4 AM, which is only 30 minutes early for me, so that was great. I woke up every hour to listen in case she needed to go out. Housebreaking really is about the humans being super vigilant about not allowing accidents to happen. Anyhow, the broken sleep, as we all know, makes for great flexibility.

I fed and played with Way and his sis for an hour, then put her in the crate that’s been returned to the yoga room. She protested for a minute, then settled down to gnaw on a toy, then keeled over for more than an hour. Waylon lay down where he usually does when I practice — out of the room, but in a spot where he can look in and see what I’m up to.

Selfish as it is, I did worry that the new pup might really upset my practice. It’s hard to practice with a crying puppy freaking out and trying to escape a crate. Ideal is a pup who’ll play a bit then fall asleep. And the longer the sleep, the better. As soon as they wake, you have to grab ‘em and make a potty run. So she did wonderfully — a nice long sleep that lasted until I was well into closing poses.

Long weekend. Yay! I didn’t remember it until speaking with a vendor on Tuesday.

He said, “Are you doing anything special for the weekend? My wife and I are going to Lake Powell.”

Me (internal monolog: “Wow, that’s random.”): “Uhhh…”

Him: “We go every Memorial Day.”

Me: “Oh, that sounds great.” (Internal monolog: “Long weekend! Woohoo! What month is this?!”)

Anyhow, to celebrate, I made pancakes for breakfast. This is the best and easiest pancake recipe ever. Cakey, vanilla-y, and like I said, super easy.

1 c all purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
3 T sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 egg
1 c soymilk
2 T vegetable oil

Mix dry ingredients. Mix wet ingredients. Add wet into dry and stir until lumps are pea-size.

Yum!

I have two favorite kitchen objects right now: a new cast iron skillet and a new cookbook. The skillet rocks — really, there’s nothing like cooking in cast iron. I’m eager to try out some naan on it.

The other new favorite is this book: Good to the Grain. Not only does it offer me an opportunity to treasure hunt local stores for more exotic flours like amaranth, spelt and teff, it also has the most astonishingly beautiful pictures and (yes, I worked in bookstores for a decade) a top-notch binding.

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Speaking of books. I just downloaded the Kindle version of The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Hinduism. I’ve been having such a good time listening to podcasts by Swami Jyotirmayananda every day, but it occurs to me that my understanding of Hinduism is kind of catch as catch can — bits and pieces picked up in yoga classes, online, through my own random reading list, etc.

Must take a moment to shout out to Volleyball Guy, who insists all of his students learn to recite the limbs of Ashtanga, recite the yamas and niyamas, and chant a good number of mantras. He always put the asana practice in perspective re: the larger picture of raja yoga.

So yeah, an “Idiot’s Guide” is pretty unsophisticated. But whatever, right? I need an overview. I’ve learned to go easy when I suggest that people should pick up an “Idiot’s Guide” or “For Dummies” book. It never occurred to me that someone might take it personally, until someone did. But I’m pretty shameless about starting from scratch when I’m learning something new.

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And now some pics of Waylon doing what he does best on this long holiday weekend.

Life is unfair, but that’s okay.

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Possible sister for Waylon?

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Why Way needs a bud. Everyone likes to play the bitey game.

May 18, 2010. Thank you, Guruji. 

Seeing form with the whole body and mind,
Hearing sound with the whole body and mind,
One understands It intimately.
~Eihei Dogen

Stayed up late (for a yogi — 10:30 PM!) at a social event. Had two vodka tonics (“please make them very light!” I begged the bartender). It’s hard being a good hostess. It’s our annual conference, this year located in Dallas.

Despite the late evening, I got up for practice at 4:30. And I’m happy I did — the humidity here makes practice really pleasant (not so pleasant in the humidity: hair and make up).

When I visited with Lisa in Tucson, she gave me instructions about what to do once I’d gotten comfortable with bakasana B. Decided today that it’s time to go ahead with that. I have a few new things to work on, then will schedule time to check in with her again.

In the meantime: my shoulders! Shoulders are a focal point these days. The collarbones get tender, as they have in the past, but these days there’s a LOT of sensation in the shoulderblades, particularly the inner, lower points of the blades. They almost feel like they’re burning.

Burning karma, I guess…

Bakasana B rolls around. Try the first one — plunk! Uh oh! I can’t do this anymore! Second one — kinda plunk. Hmmm. Third one — no thinking about how to do it, just jump. Catch it, then fall back. Think, “Lean forward just a smidge.”

Fourth, no thinking but a little forward-leaningness tucked in my tummy. Nail it. Hold for 5 breaths.

Cool.

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Listened a bit this morning to Taigen Dan Leighton of Ancient Dragon Zen Gate, a Soto zen school in Chicago. Taigen Dan Leighton translated one of my very favorite zen books, Cultivating the Empty Field, which are the writings of Zen Master Hongzhi.

Anyhow there was some discussion of “the thinking beyond thinking” and also how we “express the dream within the dream.” These are common zen concepts, but I’ve got to tell you, Ashtanga practice has helped me see into them more clearly than just doing zazen.

I know there’s always discussion among practitioners about doing more sitting meditation, and I think that’s just fine. But if you are thinking that sitting meditation is better than moving meditation, well, I’d say you’re setting up opposites. A little zazen or some more Ashtanga will probably help you see that.

Three of six on the bakasana B. The first couple were totally discombobulated, and accompanied by the inner monolog: “How’d I do this before?? How’d I…” as I plunked to the ground.

A slightly more frantic, “I’ve forgotten how to do it!” moment, accompanied by furious thinking about how I did it last time I did it, finally followed by three that I landed seemingly magically (i.e., without thinking).

So, just do it.

Right.

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The weather here is spectacular — so warm, in fact, that I didn’t turn on the space heater this morning. And The Cop and I agreed it was time to get back to our Sunday Starbucks visit. Waylon LOVES a chance to ride in the car, and he LOVES sitting outside at Starbucks, where people give him tons of attention (LOVES it!) and there are tiny birds (LOVES them!) looking for crumbs and he gets hunks of The Cop’s muffin and my scone (LOVES to scarf them down and drool muffiny-sconey saliva all over my feet).

So that was nice.

This afternoon, My Gift, Waylon and I will pick up Italian food at a great restaurant here in town and bring it to my parents’ house for Mother’s Day. All of us LOVE Italian food — well, not so much my Dad, but he will enjoy making me, My Gift and himself some bourbon and Cokes. And there’s a really good thing going on for me at work (must be kept secret until tomorrow), and my Dad loves to talk to me about career stuff. So it should be lovely. On the menu:

Antipasto

Chicken Marsala

Baked ziti

Gnocchi

Eggplant Parmesan

Cheesecake

Tiramisu

I will have lots of energy for practice tomorrow morning…

Q: “Aren’t those earbuds designed so the wires go behind your head instead of in front?”

A: “If they’re on the back of my neck, my calf gets caught on them.”

2.5 out of 5.

Intra-abdominal pressure seems to be key.