Music, Words, and Yoga

Well, I’m back in Mysore practicing at the Shala. Guruji is preparing a trip to Florida in March, so he’s saving his energy for that. Saraswati is in charge. Start time at 5:30 AM. Led classes at 5 AM on Friday and Sunday. Guruji’s leds were averging 50 min to one hour, Sharath’s 1:15, so Saraswati’s are 1:30 to 1:40. Now, that is some slow counting.

She is working so hard in Guruji’s absence. We all owe her so much. She is so fantastic. She’s one of the few teachers left certified by Krishnamacharya.

Here are some funny little bits about life in Mysore….

Tina, Anu, and Ganesha are great. Shakti is fine. Holly is doing a great job. Kevin from Eugene is gardening up a storm. Big and Guru are feeding our thirst. Meena Gupta is excellent. Shiva and Murti are keeping the community functioning. Of course, Rat’s still in charge, Jaunita is as beautiful as ever, Whiney has passed Rat’s Shala dog test, but where is Burrito?

Tomorrow is the Orphanage Benefit Lunch put on by Mr Joseph. We’ve got two days off because of Moonday.

A coconut almost hit a Yoga student at the Southern Star(now called the Regaalis) swimming pool. For some reason, I’m always there the day it happens, and then they trim all the trees a week later. That’s three years in a row! What? Do you think I shook the tree! I’m the one who warns people not to sit too close!

A lot of new, young faces, the crew from Nottingham England, and the lovely Saskya.

Why do I always end up with the crazy Europeans? This year it’s a French man named Olivier from the Cotes Basque. Last year it was the great Italien, Andea Varalli. I miss the Prince of Baloney. I guess the madness will begin in January, when he arrives. And everyone else…

Quite a few surfers to talk shop or shacks(tube rides) with.

Averaging two hour Mysore practices, 8 to 10 breaths per posture. I’m reallly enjoying the energy and a fairly mellow, not too crowded Shala with Saraswati.

This is classic…

Led class last Sunday, Sirsasana, very slow count into half, neck pressure building, “Five”, lengthen out to full and then Urdva Sirsasana to stretch neck. Come back down to half at seven. Suddenly, my legs fly back up into full and start flailing. I hit the shutters because I’m in front facing into the stage. I go over. Whack!!!! On the edge of a cold, black Granite step right into my 5th lumbar. I just lay there. Ass-ess my situation and then slither my sweaty body into child’s pose. Very bruised back and vertebrae, but only missed one practice. I tell you these led classe are a thrill a minute! Mysore style is the only style. Please get well Guruji! I’ll compromise with 55 minute led classes. I’ve got to work on my Ahimsa.

A wonderful new restaurant called Santosha opened down next to the Astrologer by the Lion’s School. Fantastic continental fair. Super healthy and full flavored. A cordon Bleu chef and his lady are enlivening our palates.

Playing my music for many. Always a pleasure.

My friend Tomas, proprietor of the new new eatery, Santosha, in Mysore, gave me a wonderful book called “Nourishing Traditions” by Sally Fallon and Mary G. Enig Phd. This book is the first book that has simplified nutrition and made it logical for me. The first third of the book explains the fundamentals of nutirition, and the last two thirds are amazing and healthy recipes. Get it. Read it. You will not be sorry.

Well, the Shala closed for the year. A powerful led class by Saraswati with Tim Miller practicing on her right and Phillipa on her left. A very Yin/Yang and Surya/Chandra energy balancing the Shala. The class ended and she wished us well, and a Happy New Year. I went and got 2 meters of Jasmine for Saraswati right away, but I left my mat in the middle of the floor and nearly left. I was taking pictures and saying “so long” to many. I came back into the Shala to get a picture with Saraswati and I’m all, “woops left my mat all sweaty in the middle of the Shala.” Overheated Yoga brain… I had to get Saraswati more flowers!

Of course, the final good bye and meeting with Sri Krishna Pattabhi Jois was that evening. Oh, man… More like, Oh, Guru…

I get to the Shala at 4:15 pm, and wait a little bit for Saraswati to finish with a student. I have presents for them. I have a beautiful silver Ganesha for Saraswati, My CD “Martian Chronicles” for Sharath (good driving music for his shiny, black Honda CR-V on his trips to photo Tigers in the Jungle), and 90%pure Sandalwood Oil for Guruji.

I give Saraswati her present and she opens it and is very pleased. All right! The hardest working lady in the yoga world is happy. My most important job is done. Take care of the person who’s been taking care of me and 100+ other yoga students for the past month; as well as, everyone else for decades. So far, so good…

A bit of history, my frist encounter with Guruji was in New York when I attended the first day of his 2005 tour. I had gotten in late so I went to the Half-Primary Series class. We were in the third Surya Namaskara A and I was glancing up to see where he was. Okay, I was looking for him! Suddenly, I hear, “head down!”. Wha? “Head Down!”. Huh? Again. Everyone is waiting in Chataranga. Getting irritated with the person he’s yelling at including myself. Next thing I know, this hand is pushing my head towards the floor. Nothing hard, but very firm. It’s me he’s yelling at! My body straightens and aligns with his frm grip of my skull. A voice whipers in my ear, “keep your head down”. I guess I needed a translator. It was Sharath softening the blow to my startled ego. That was my first experience with Guruji. I was pretty terrrified, but Sharath’s supportive energy helped alot. I feel really comfortable with Sharath and Saraswati, but Guruji brings out the butterflies. Then last year, on my first drop back with Guruji, he let go of me( I guess I slipped) and I caught myself an inch from the floor. Finishing sequence was accompanied by a heart rate of 120 beats per minute.

Ever since, I get so awkward around Guruji. I was doing much better last year when we got to spend alot of time with him. This trip he’s been resting and out of touch. My awkwardness was at an all time high. This was my chance to see him and thank god he was still with us.

There he was, he had a knit cap on sitting in the office. I bow down and take his hand and shake it. Tongue tied, really nervous, I managed a “great to see you”, “you look great”, and “here are some gifts”. I say the CD is for Sharath and I have some Sandalwood Oil for him. Well, he takes it out of the pouch and tries to open it and it wont open. I immediateltely offer assistance. I take it, and it wont BUDGE! I laugh and say, “all this Yoga…” as the veins in my head start bulging. I’m turning red! The cap loosens. Whew! I take the cap off ready to let Guruji enjoy the oil only to discover there is a plastic stopper that you need pliers to get out. I looked down at it and I nearly bit it off. How do you hand your guru anything you just chewed on!? I just looked up puzzled and perplexed. I let him asess the situation, and we compromise with a wipe from the oily top of the stopper. He sniffs the cooling oil looks at me kind of puzzled and compasssionate. “Thank you”, he says. I bow down at his feet, and thank him for everything. I practically crawled out the door.

I later came back and did photos with Guruji and Saraswati. I felt a little better this time with her there. I still look like like a deeer caught in the headlights.

Hey! If you want to see another side of our young Guruji,  Sharath, go to flickr.com, go to People, and type in r sharath.  There are many beautiful photos there to see and download.

Namaskara!

She folded forward to a place that she knew before.    It was’nt the same,and Read more

Peaceful cold
With a heartbeat
So bold.
My head so warm
Peering
Through the shadows
For a place
To rest.
To close
For the day.
With rugs all around
Stacked high
To the sky.
Thick,
Double thick
On the floor below.
I think I’ll sit here
And
Enjoy the show.
See where I saw.
Feel
What
I know.

It’s the dawn of the early morningRed sky is my only warningAs she hugs me I feel homeOnly when I step through my door.As I look into her eyes,do I knowIt’s not her I seek,but myselfTo carry me throughWhen I’m weak.As days go by,AndEmptiness arrives.My stinging eyes,And the tears I’ve shed.For the love is dead.Our love is dead.