Hotel practice on Wednesday, since I had to catch an early train to Manchester. It was a fine practice — I actually felt very energetic and light, as often happens when I’ve had too little sleep. That’s the only problem I’m having on this trip — I just can not seem to adjust to the time zone. Every night I’m sleeping four hours and then popping wide awake, unable to sleep a minute more. I have a deep newfound sympathy for insomniacs. I can’t wait to fly home so I can SLEEP.
So, hotel practice on Wednesday, but back to the shala on Thursday. Have I mentioned the smell of sandalwood incense at Yoga Place? First time I showed up, Cary was walking with a stick of incense, wafting it around. I strongly associate the smell of sandalwood with zendos, which may explain my instantaneous love for Yoga Place.
And speaking of zendo associations, there’s the dristi issue. As mentioned in the comments on an earlier post, Yoga Place has a communal dressing room — a big open space with a bench that runs around it and hooks on the wall. People hang up their coats on the hooks and leave their bags on the bench.
I guess a communal dressing area might seem daunting to new visitors, except it isn’t at all. I was accustomed to it during my stint at the taekwondo studio. Everyone faces the wall to dress, and you use zendo dristi when you enter the space. Not unlike locker room dristi, really.
The Japanese face into the room to meditate, by the way, whereas the Koreans face away (toward the wall). I’ve always much preferred the Korean style, so am pleased with the Yoga Place customs all around. 
Okay, so Mysore practice on Thursday. Quite nice. I went in at 7 AM instead of 6, just to see how it was different. The space seemed a little more crowded, but not bad. As I mentioned, I just can’t seem to adjust to the time zone, so I’ve been having significant energy (and, thus, emotional) swings. Nothing that shows on the outside, just jittery internal states. What this means, though, is that it’s a great relief to roll out my mat. I know I’ll be okay (i.e., grounded and safe) for at least an hour and a half. I was diligently pulling my act together during the suryas, at which point the practitioners on either side of me finished up, left, and were replaced by new people. Two huge guys. Well, the guy to my left was huge. The guy to my right was freaking mountainous. Okay, so it’s no secret that in real life I find big men (The Cop!) and big dogs (Waylon!) hugely appealing. I can’t say, though, that I am at all accustomed to practicing in a close space between two huge guys. I’m used to being surrounded by teeny yoginis (a la The Poetess and Crim Girl, for example). It was fine, but more like practicing in a canyon than I’m accustomed to.
Still, as we all know, once you get absorbed into the practice, your physical environment blurs and recedes, and that was the case. Practice was lovely and familiar and nurturing, despite my sleep-deprived frazzled edges.
Cary magically appeared, of course, for dropbacks. I am amused at how she does that. With other teachers, you hear them coming, which is its own kind of reassurance. Cary, though, just is there — almost as if she always has been and always will be. It occurred to me that she has VERY strong “mom” energy, and by that I mean the good kind (the kind I try to offer My Gift): always accessible, balanced and unconditional. Not at all the overly-enmeshed or nervously manipulative bastardization of mom energy that makes me want to run in the opposite direction. True goddess energy, I guess. Reassuring and strong.
So yes, more dropback practice with an authorized teacher. While exhausted (yikes!). An exercise in controlling self-consciousness (story of my life!). Terrifying and fulfilling. Afterwards, lying on my mat in preparation for sarvangasana, I was vibrating energy at a very high speed. And I say that as someone with a significant ongoing vata imbalance. So that’s really saying something!
***
Just wanted to share something from “real life”: Last night I attended the professional event that was perhaps the main point of my journey. It was very intense, in terms of being a challenge to balance “not knowing” (after all this is a country and a culture and a professional environment in which I am a stranger who doesn’t know what she doesn’t know) with some professional élan.
All went well, in terms of professional interaction and social niceties. Interestingly, though, I was questioned by several people about the fact that I wasn’t drinking and wasn’t eating any of the meat or fish hors d’oevres. It seemed to be perceived as an American oddity. One man asked me if I was abstaining due to religious beliefs (I was kind of confused about how to answer, since I recognize that my choices probably are influenced by my practice, which is influenced by traditional Hindu beliefs and, in my case, filtered through a Buddhist lens — but that’s much too complicated to try to explain in a professional environment) and someone asked me if it was a choice I made “for health” (which he seemed to imply was specifically an American kind of way of thinking). I guess I am a little confused by this because I actually perceive a very traditional British awareness/practice of healthy living — in fact, I’d had lunch that very day with an almost 80 year old lion of the industry, who, while probably never exerting himself beyond long walks in the countryside, has what seemed to be what I’ve always thought of as a very traditional British consciousness of healthy living: good healthy food and walks in fresh air and wholesome mental stimulation. Those ARE traditional British values, aren’t they? Have they skipped a generation or two? Are they less valued in the city? I don’t know — I see an alignment between my values and those traditional ones. Still, I was counselled that I should consider drinking at professional events. Interesting…
Okay, it’s getting close to dawn. Time to have some coffee, pack up my suitcase in anticipation of my flight home this afternoon, and head over to Cary’s for led primary. I am actually grateful for led class today — this introvert has exhausted her reserves this week and needs a dose of structure!
London yogis, thanks again! You made my visit a true delight. For all of my fascinations with different cultures, I have say that the culture dearest to my heart and soul is our Ashtanga culture. If ever you’re in the American southwest, please let me return the hospitality!
Still, it’s sweet.
