I think that you could tell from my last post that I was having one of those “I hate Ashtanga” moments. And I did. I was rather defeated by that damn yoga practice and found myself wondering why on earth I was doing this in the first place. A lot of non-yogic swear words were streaming out of my mouth along with frustrated tears.
And then the next day, practice was awesome. My dog was fine, I didn’t feel like a retarded chicken in my standing postures, and I even managed to hold myself up in Pindasana, which I have never been able to do:
Oh how you play with my emotions so!