I've passed my one-week anniversary in Mysore mark.
The monsoon is here and in full swing. Last night we were treated to a spectacular lightning storm that was a prelude to a massive, sheeting downpour.
I've been settling some outstanding sleep debts, too: today and yesterday I took long and savage naps immediately after practice.
I've been crashing out at 8 or 9 PM and rising at 3:45 for 5 AM practice.
My body casually informed me it was time to catch up on the sleep I needed. It did this by shutting down in some rather inopportune moments, such as at the breakfast table or in a rickshaw.
As it's Friday, this morning's practice was led first series. I was tired, which seemed to be a common condition, as there was a lot of yawning before practice, and many people looked tired around the eyes.
I don't know whether it was because it was the end of the week, or because of the recent deluge, or what. It would have been a good pre-practice coffee day.
The practice itself was fiery, though. When a practice is good, I don't seem to remember it. Such was the case this morning.
A light moment: Guruji sneezing with the same commanding presence and volume as he led the class. There was much tittering.
Shala note: I counted exactly 45 people in class this morning. Those numbers are expected to increase next week, however.
Yesterday, Sharath told my friend Sherrie, "On Monday, you take pasasana." Exactly one month to the day she's been practicing here! Pretty cool stuff.
I'm such an ashtanga convert, but that's because it seems simple to me. And it seems simple because it's worked for me.
You show up every day and you practice the series in the order it's presented. As a result, both the physical and subtle changes take place.