There must be something special in this crisp, clean Wisconsin air. I'm beginning to suspect some mysterious airborne steroidal particles are wafting about that cause one to feel light, strong, and floaty. I just don't know how else to explain the sudden and consistent handstand success I've been having. During yesterday's practice, I landed four handstands, WITHOUT THE WALL. The day before that, I landed two. And this morning, another four handstands toward the end of my practice, balancing effortlessly, weightless and steady.
I know I shouldn't try to stare down a gifted horse... or something like that... but I don't understand it. Maybe it's practicing outside in the sun -- perhaps the sun's rays are actually fueling me directly, as if I were just another blade of grass. I don't know, but my practices have definitely felt different since I arrived in the Dairy State. And it's not just the handstands. The jump backs have been slow, smooth, and controlled. I'm getting considerably more height in my lifts, and the jump throughs have been quite lovely, as well. It's weird. Great, but weird.
Apart from the practices themselves, I've spent much of my time here evangelizing the practice of yoga... trying to quantify and summarize the many, many benefits of the practice and all that it's done for me. The other day, I got down on the floor and did some restorative yoga with my precious grandmother at her apartment while we chatted it up. It was very nice. She asked what kind of yoga I would recommend for a 76 year old lady, so I started with some very subtle movements and gentle hip openers, but she completely blew me away with her flexibility and strength. She's quite the silver star. I'll take that as a good sign for my future -- the matriarchs on both sides are incredibly strong and resilient. I only hope to be so vibrant when and if I reach my seventies.