I think I dislocated a shakra or two last night. I missed my usual 5:30 Hatha Yoga class in favor of completing the installation of my new Shimano Saint shifter/ levers. I made it to the 7:00 P:M “Yin” class and hit the mat a frazzled mess. My brain was spinning through the rolodex of errands, appointments, calls to be made, conversations with my 6th grade teacher, wondering what happened to my old Schwinn Scrambler, and contemplating the causality of increased personal responsibility vis a vis the bombing of Libya.
I was not exactly in the “Be Here Now” state.
Yin yoga is a practice focused on holding certain positions until the stretch goes beyond the muscles and settles into the deep fascia connecting the muscles to the bones, resulting in a deep stretch, but also a flexing and revitalizing of the internal organs. I’m talking about stretching so deep you feel it in the liver.
By the end of the hour and a half I was calmed. I was wrung out like a dishrag and I OM’ed my way home on a cloud and went to bed early. Throughout the night, when I wasn’t dreaming a calliope of old memory tapes and theoretical work conversations, I was “making water” lots and lots of water.
I’m hoping this is some sign of a great detox, a pissing away of all my troubles, but for now it just means I can put my hands flat on the floor with my knees locked and I’m tired.