knocked off my feet

Anna countdown: almost 7 days.

Yesterday in the early evening I ate something bad--I don't know if it was the pear, or an orange, or just too many oranges. My stomach was already unhappy when I had the big bowl of delicious shellfish soup.

That didn't feel any better, and then a couple hours later my body started healing itself by violently rejecting everything.

There's a strange weakness from food poisoning: I stayed home from school because things Just Aren't Right. It's hard to focus, there's lingering stomachache, and a lack of energy compounded by Monday's Ashtanga Yoga class completely kicking my ass, apparently being my first really moving-around exercise in a month or more.

Still pretty wobbly, but at least I've only got the one class tomorrow.

*creak* *stretch*

I went to yoga last night! Right downtown, not too far from home. Unlike the other yoga place, this one has proper mats, and is also cheaper, at CH$1000 per class (about US$1.80). I could do it 5 times a week and it would still be cheaper than joining the YMCA, and more convenient.

Now, yoga is usually good for my body, and the reason I don't do it much at home is first because my evenings are taken up with aikido and Zen, and second because I don't like it all that much. I have to work hard to keep my back muscles from spasming during some poses, or to keep myself from accumulating tension anywhere for the the entire class. My arms, shoulders, and upper back get worked to the point of exhaustion during the seemingly endless initial half hour of Downward Fucking Dog.

Today I'm sore, and my hip muscles are crabby (because my hips are already out of alignment). So I'm a little on the fence about whether I like it or not, even though I was able to feel more clearly the different imbalances of my body right now--my left side is a lot tighter than my right.

On the other hand, I'm desperate for some kind of body-movement practice, and this seems to fit the bill. I've always had this theory that persistent yoga would be really good for me; now I guess I'll find out.

40 minutes. one pose. go!

I read Zen teacher Brad Warner's blog, because he's reasonably funny, and while in writing he often comes off as being insecure about his writing, and trying to sound like an edgy jerk to make up for it, I think he knows his stuff (and he's more confident and relaxed in the videos I've seen of him talking). And every now and again we get a gem like this:

"Lately when I give instructions in zazen I've taken to describing what I do as being like a yoga class in which there is only one asana and you hold it for-fucking-ever."

I love this, because it's true. The zazen posture is a yoga posture, even in its variations for those of us who don't like a full lotus. (I can do it, but then nerves get pressed and my leg goes, not asleep, but actually numb and I can't move it.) I noticed last year that as much as I rely on zazen to stretch out my mind somehow, I also rely on it to stretch out my body. If I get to do my usual morning sitting, my mind has already run through most of the nonsense I would have brought into that day, and my muscles have stretched and relaxed into their natural states. (Well. So has my mind.) It's a physical practice, which it has to be, because your body isn't something separate from you; you're not some independent thing inhabiting a container made of meat. You are the container of meat. (Along with a lot of other things. The important part is to note that you are not one thing in particular; there's not a single essential thing that you could point to and say "That's what I am." Go ahead and look for it. I can wait.)

You! Meat container! You should go sit zazen!

Yeah. I dunno either.