It's as though I've been sucked into a state of inertia, a standstill, despite every natural impulse. The tapas are white hot and the truth is burning fiercely, but every time I make a move, a big wet blanket falls to take me down. I lost my love. I lost my job. I lost my independence. And just as I bent down to gather up the scattered fragments of my life, a heavy cosmic boot landed squarely on my ass to push me face down in the mud.
I pulled a muscle in practice yesterday. Badly. The first side of Eka Pada was so good that I came to the second side, my tighter side, with too much confidence and as I pressed my head back against my shin I felt an ominous inner shift. Normally, with this type of injury, I'll continue on with the practice, but this time it was different. I couldn't do much at all without pain, so I skipped ahead to finishing, omitting all drop backs, Sirsasana, and the vinyasas. This morning, I can barely turn my head from side to side, much less nod it up and down. I've had problems with this muscle group before, but it's never been this bad. I don't know how I'll practice until this pain goes away.
Yesterday, I drove 30 miles to the nearest health food store (which, in itself, was quite depressing...) to pick up some arnica cream and neti salts. I had high hopes for the arnica, but it's effect has been minimal. I fully intend to unroll the mat today, but practice is likely to be skeletal for at least a day or two which leaves me with even less to do out here by myself while the family is away. Clearly, this time is meant for rest and reflection. The way of things has left me little choice.