I woke up super early today.

5.30 – drained crushed coriander seeds out of pint glass, drank water; mixed Ayurvedic morning remedy in small cup of hot water, consumed.

5.45 – changed into my more hippy yoga clothes – it’s a moon day for me – settled in for a short meditation.

6 something – kneeled at the end of the mat, and sang my ashtanga chant softly.  I barely have to even look at the words anymore, but the “Jangalikayamane” bit is still IMPOSSIBLE for me to say.  Why so difficult?

Lit some Kapha balancing incense, raised my arms above my head, breathing deeply, chest rising, head lifting, eyes closing, back elongating…ahhhhhh…today was going to be a wonderful practice.

A bit bedraggled by the end, as I eased myself into a post back-bending hindi squat, I began to think about my “moon updates”.

In order to get onto teacher-training in a couple of years time I need to start updating Matthew more regularly, and specifically, about my practice.  I think what he means by that is less innate, random meanderings about love and the universe, and more practical and purposeful assessments of progress.  A difficult thing to quantify, I discovered.

Unlike my marathon training updates – distance, time, diet, how fucked my legs are, I’m in this experiential place language can’t quite define.  A writer friend of mine described my “think-I-might-be-on-the-cusp-of-some-profound-understanding” as a language, not spiritual awakening.  Or maybe he was suggesting that they’re mutually exclusive.

In which case, my update to Matthew was a useful litmus test of how far from the cusp I actually am.  It was simple enough to relay the asana-based progress, e.g. a deepening of my forward folds, slow release of right hip, and conversely more noticeable tension in my right shoulder, but then, that doesn’t really seem so important, or significant to me.  There’s another side to the physical changes that are happening, and I’m not sure whether that’s in terms of mass and structure, or something else….perhaps my relationship to my physical shape, my understanding, my experience of it is changing.

I used the phrase “I don’t know” and “its like” a lot.  Which isn’t often the case in my communications.  I like to be concise.  Hit the nail on the head.  And all I could do was describe and describe and hope that I was able to convey the essence of what I’m experiencing.

I feel quite large.  And already I hit a hurdle with the use of language.  What do I, what do we, associate with “large”?  Fat, big, heavy, immobile, overweight.  My hips feel broad, and my boobs fuller.  I can feel my stomach more than I’ve ever noticed it before, and yet, there are no negative connotations attached to these feelings.  It’s not overweight, or sluggish, or pig…no sense of shame, or worrying whether I’ll fit into my clothes ever again…truth is, I’m fitting into my clothes rather well.  Its more about presence.  Awareness, maybe.  I’m feeling feminine, like it is the feminine side of me that’s waking up.

I’m obviously not quite ready to articulate it just yet, and that’s ok.  What I do know, and what’s taken me, rightly or wrongly, by surprise, is how strong, how large, this new-found sense of femininity makes me feel.