I practiced all the way up to Kapotasana yesterday, not that I can touch my toes with my fingers yet on that one, but whatever, that’s not the point. Here is the point: I can touch fingers in Pasasana, without assistance. I think the key is going to be figuring out how to place my wrapping arm appropriately. I remember that this was key to figuring out how to do Mari C – how to drape the wrapping arm so that the hand is in the proper place to grab or be grabbed. I found yesterday that if I wrapped my arm around one leg, a la Mari C, it gave me a clue as to how to properly wrap my arm around both the legs. The squat is not problem. Nor is the twist. It’s a mechanics thing, I think, that stands between me and a proper bind. Oh yeah, and the thing about actually being “given” the pose.
I also tried the Tittibhasana version where you bend over and wrap your arms around your legs, binding in a fashion similar to Supta Kurmasana. I got fingers to touch, but I couldn’t get them to hook. Still it was further than I had ever been in that pose, which I have been trying on and off for as long as I have been practicing Bikram yoga, in which the pose is referred to as “Guillotine” for obvious reasons.
Finally, I confess that I hung out in Yoga Nidrasana, fingers hooked, for a nice long while yesterday. All of this legs-behind-head stuff occured after Supta Kurmasana but before I headed into the backbending portion of my practice.
And thanks to Laksmi, I have a new way of practicing putting weight in my hands for my jump throughs. I do handstands against the wall with my fingers touching the wall. There is absolutely NO way to shift weight onto the fingers that way. I think Laksmi practices handstands this way for the sake of practicing handstands away from the wall. But I find it useful for my own (criminal?) purposes.
As for my non-criminal pursuit of backbending prowess, progress is happening, albeit slowly. Standing up is happening, but a la Jumpy Monkey. Not graceful yet. In time….
One glitch: I am so sore today, I can barely walk up and down the stairs in my house. Damn quariceps. Damn enire front body, for that matter.
Must be because I practiced on a mooon day. Or practiced stuff that I haven’t been taught by a blessed teacher.
Apparently there are at least two prisons here in Northern Westchester. Lock me up. I’m a yoga criminal.