The more I listen to the chants, the more mysterious the practice becomes for me.
Greg is fond of playing Manju's CD of chants during class, and I have actually purchased the sutras and sometimes play it in my computer when I am home.
There is so much to this practice that I find myself quite overwhelmed. Today I noticed that I don't yet know all the names of the poses in the primary series, not to mention the counts, or where the dristi goes. And that is just the surface.
It is only since last week that I have been able to finally concentrate for the majority of the practice, being present, feeling the poses, staying in them, allowing myself to feel what exactly happens to my body as it stretches.
As I sign for yoga teacher trainer I am reminded of a story my mother told me of her brother (my uncle), whom aparently on his first day of school, at age 6, went running and hid under the bed, refusing to go . Upon inquiry, my grandmother found out that the reason why he did not want to go was because he did not know how to write or read.
I kind of feel the same way.
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