Raw, adjective: 6. ignorant, inexperienced, or untrained: a raw recruit.
That is about how I feel right now. Ahhh.
Today, Emmy Cleaves taught both the regular and the advanced series. Emmy is Bikram's long-time right-hand woman, a rockstar in her own right, who happens to be 80-something and still bending into Lotus and sticking her legs in the air. She presided over the group in her bathing suit, and reigned with an iron fist. I feel lucky to have had the opportunity to practice under the direction of a woman I've heard so very much about. (Wouldn't mind being able to bend like she can when I'm 80, either.)
The class was much more physiology-focused; Emmy's all about alignment and precision, which was exactly what I needed after two days of just trying to stay alive. Today the heat was considerably less oppressive, which meant that I could actually focus on technique and extension instead of not dying. It was great, and I felt invigorated after the 5-hour session, as opposed to the other days, when I felt like I'd been run over by a Mac truck. In a good way. The bruises attest.
Ominous desert clouds have rumbled in this afternoon and it's, very strangely, threatening to storm. There's news on the franchising front; all of the hubbub over the last several years about Bikram's effort to patent "his" yoga has apparently come to a conclusion, because at the end of class today he introduced his patent lawyers and new franchising director. I'm headed to a lecture about this right now. Incredibly intrigued by this complicated development, given my interests in commodification, spirituality, and the body. We'll see what unfolds in the next few hours. I feel torn about seven different ways about the whole thing.