I dreamt of yoga last night. I had mastered Chaturanga, a transition pose I struggle with mightily. It drives me crazy that I can’t do this pose correctly. It seems silly to me that this is what I have trouble with, it looks so simple and elegant when my teachers do it, but I have three screws in my left shoulder and it doesn’t move exactly right, and it takes a LOT of upper body strength. At least, that’s my excuse.
In the dream, I was flowing seamlessly from down dog to child’s pose to Chaturanga to upward facing dog, over and over, astonished that I felt like I was floating through the movements. I was showing off for my DH, running through sun sal Surya Namaskar A, my body moving in concert with my mind. It was glorious, and I woke this morning so excited to get on my mat today. (for those who haven’t a clue what I’m about: click here.)
I dream about doing yoga a lot, and doing wildly difficult positions with utter ease, like I’m lighten than a feather and moving myself around is nothing. Balancing armstands especially are possible in this dreamworld, something I doubt I’ll ever get to in real life, especially since I haven’t been sticking to my yoga schedule lately. I want to get on my mat every day, and yet, I always often myself busy with other things. I’m trying to find the exact reason behind this mental block. I was thinking about it yesterday, and clearly, Chaturanga has something to do with it.
Add another goal to the ever growing list.
I just turned my guest room into a mini yoga studio. It’s perfectly sized for me, exactly enough room to flail about. I have a superb app on my iPad I use called Yoga Studio, a couple of Strala videos by Tara Stiles I’m excited to try. All it wants is a regular visitor.
To my yogi friends - any advice for rebuilding my home practice?
And a bit of business: WHEN SHADOWS FALL comes out in paperback next month (August 26). I’d love it if you pre-ordered from your favorite bookstore. If you’re a book blogger who is interested in reading WHEN SHADOWS FALL for review, please contact firstname.lastname@example.org with your website, credentials and recent reviews to request your digital epub copy.
1834 today. Not bad. Story's moving, and that's all I can ask.