Some days, the closest I get to a yoga practice is having my wife tell me how her morning practice went. It's kind of a sweet and sour deal. I do like to hear about how she's doing, vicariously enjoying both her victories and her comeuppances. Unfortunately, I can't help feel some jealosy as well. I feel sorry for myself, forced to live the work-a-day life, scrabbling to fit in the occasional intro and led classes, condemned to be constantly attempting to re-stretch muscles and ligaments that have contracted from disuse, never being one of the happening 'every day' folks at the shala. Snivel. Whine. Too bad, so sad.

Yesterday was another missed opportunity. We got done in the OR at about 7:00pm, just about the time they were getting ready to do backbends in class probably. It was a really good day from the medical perspective, but... home late again, no practice, see the family for only an hour or so before everyone trundles off to bed, yadda, yadda. You're maybe beginning to wonder why I would start an ashtanga practice journal when I hardly ever seem to practice. Me too.

I should be able to get there today, but..., my teacher is showing the great folks of Seattle how to do ashtanga today thru Sunday. That's ok. As long as I get to practice, I'm good. I've wondered about the peripatetic life that some yoga teachers live. In one sense, traveling is fun, eye opening, mind broadening, etc. But doing it all the time (see the schedules of Ana Forrest or David Swenson) has got to have some real drawbacks. I guess I'm looking at it from the perspective of someone who, by dint of lifestyle choices, would be incredibly inconvienced if I had to be away from home that much. Maybe it really is an enriching experence to sleep in a different bed each week. I just am too used to the notion of "home" perhaps. I really think that Tim is getting a little too old for this sort of thing, though. Time for him to settle down a bit and keep it closer to the house. Not for me so much. No. I'm mainly thinking of him. And his family too . That's who I'm thinking about here. Unfortunately, Guruji is setting a bad example, traveling around the world for months at a time at the bouncing young age of 87.

Gotta go look in a tummy. One of these days, I'll get the chance again to pass on what practicing is like.