Astanga

This morning, it took an act of discipline bordering on heroism to rouse myself from a deep, satisfying sleep, peel myself from the warm bed and turn on that bright, hurtful light. OUCH. Now that I’m whipping myself up into a froth of exhaustion every day, I’m sleeping like a baby at night and it feels great.

I unrolled my mat at 8 a.m., practised with Sharath’s led Primary. It’s a bit shorter than Beryl’s Power Yoga (full Primary with extras) because it moves quickly through the poses without added instruction or chatter. Sometimes, I like the chatter, but on days like this, I just need to move through it.

I did the closing sequence on my own. I stayed for 10 breaths in Sirsasana, in the middle of the room this time. It felt more stable and strong, which is what I hoped would come from my work against the wall over the past few days.

Gosh, I’m so tired right now, it hurts. I’m finding it really difficult to adjust to this heavy teaching schedule after almost a month of relative sloth.