Ah, yoga. Ah, thought experiments.
Dec. 3rd, 2006 07:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flexagonAhhhhhh, basics class on Thursday. I'm glad I reined myself in for the gentle reintroduction. I felt like taffy, like stone, at all the right times. It was great to be able to do everything well and just reawaken my system after all that time off (and it's time I admit that yoga does this better than the weight room, these days). Then the two-hour master class on backbends on Friday with all the really good people... what a sweatbath. Oh my god. Up dog and the sweat droplets move down my chest, down dog and they start to move back up. I never sweat that much! I did lots of awesome things including lotus again (happy wiggle), binding half lotus on the left side (fairly new for me), one-legged crane on both sides... I can't even remember. I got a deeper bind than ever before in revolved side angle, and I can't even find a picture of that bind by googling. Anyway, great class. Now I notice my cough -- left over from when I used to be sick, good thing I'm NOT sick anymore now -- is getting worse. Um, that wouldn't be cool, if I were still sick.
I am having lots of thoughts about changing things, changing the world outside my tiny little demesne. And I'm having lots of contradictory feelings, which is good because it means I'm probably getting near something important. I find it very interesting that it's my older, most adult self that's most afraid of suggesting changes in general. When I was younger I did think I'd change the world in some way... now I'm trained to be an engineer, not a leader, and I've learned to value not rocking the boat over little things. What's big enough to be worth it? What do I even want my role to be? I like my idea of running a little gym, because it's turning into a great thought experiment. For example: when I think of the possibility of someday owning a small neighborhood business, why do I simultaneously feel snobbish (i.e., that's not a big enough goal... do you really want to live out your days running one piddly little gym in Arlington?) and intimidated (whoa, that takes more money than I have, and a LOT of risk, and what makes me think I could handle being an employer? also, my head fills with visions of all the current members hating me and quitting). I used to think I would be a leader someday, somehow. Now I don't see a way clear to that... and I don't even think it's me wanting that. I don't hate the corporate world but I don't want to be addicted to it either, and already it feels scary to contemplate getting along without it. I guess seven years is long enough to form a habit.
I am having lots of thoughts about changing things, changing the world outside my tiny little demesne. And I'm having lots of contradictory feelings, which is good because it means I'm probably getting near something important. I find it very interesting that it's my older, most adult self that's most afraid of suggesting changes in general. When I was younger I did think I'd change the world in some way... now I'm trained to be an engineer, not a leader, and I've learned to value not rocking the boat over little things. What's big enough to be worth it? What do I even want my role to be? I like my idea of running a little gym, because it's turning into a great thought experiment. For example: when I think of the possibility of someday owning a small neighborhood business, why do I simultaneously feel snobbish (i.e., that's not a big enough goal... do you really want to live out your days running one piddly little gym in Arlington?) and intimidated (whoa, that takes more money than I have, and a LOT of risk, and what makes me think I could handle being an employer? also, my head fills with visions of all the current members hating me and quitting). I used to think I would be a leader someday, somehow. Now I don't see a way clear to that... and I don't even think it's me wanting that. I don't hate the corporate world but I don't want to be addicted to it either, and already it feels scary to contemplate getting along without it. I guess seven years is long enough to form a habit.
