The start of Week Three of The Ashtanga Experiment, which feels totally surreal to me…I keep thinking the Ashtangi Police are going to show up & bust me taking extra breaths like crazy and gracelessly shambling from down dog to the front of my mat. And no, I don’t know the Sanskrit for that. I’m just showing up at Slayer Shala and doing my best. I am baffled by my new found inability to do Triangle pose. I’ve never had problems with that asana, ever, and now it’s a total nightmare. I’m sure I will look back on this and laugh. Or not. Actually, there was quite a bit of chuckling going on today during my death metal playlist.
An aside: being a still-fat but vegan yoga practitioner kinda sucks sometimes, not gonna lie. Not for vanity reasons, but for functionality purposes–there’s just a lot more for me to have to throw around during practice. Floating is not exactly happening right now if you know what I mean. More like flopping and stomping. Kind of like a dancing grizzly bear in a pink tutu who could dangerously lunge for your twizzlers and popcorn at any time during this performance. Although I find myself not fussing about my body shape or size *while* I am practicing, I am feeling some generalized discontent after. Although I have been steadily losing weight for a year and 8 months now, sometimes I wish it would just be over already, dammit. My inner, fiery egoself wants it NOW. The practice is definitely stirring up some interesting feelings…part of me just easy and peaceful, and part of me on fire.