Grumpy like a crocodile

Boy, did I ask for it.

The suffering came back into my practice today.

Getting new poses at this point feels a bit surreal.  I never really feel like I am doing the last one well enough to justify moving on to the next (or the next).  So I am not surprised that I missed the point both of the times Kino said "okay, one more."  Not one more try, but one more pose.  In the moment of the first attempt, the first ever genuine attempt at mayurasana and nakrasana, I sank into my general m.o... to be the comic relief of the practice space.  Laughing merrily at my own quixotic attempt, I tried again when asked and then carried on to backbends and tick-tocks (which seemed almost reasonable after the silliness of balancing on my elbows and jumping on my hands).

It wasn't until after practice that I became a grumpy smurf (not my description, but one assigned to me). It wasn't until I got a little distance from the madness of the attempt that I realized... I have to do it again tomorrow. and the next day. and the next.

and suddenly, there it was.  the pain, the suffering. the intense and ingrained sense of not being up to the challenge.

"feeling grumpy?  like a peacock? like a crocodile." (*annoyingly cheerful grin*)  "they're hard from here on. there's something really awkward about each one."

it is strange to me that I would be having this emotional reaction to a couple of weird poses.  The really hard ones, the ones that take such strength and flexibility, while daunting, were not sources of emotional turmoil.
anxiety, frustration, physical pain, yes.  emotional turmoil? not so much.

and there it is.  all these weird poses, the ones I have and the ones I have to look forward to, are gonna mess me up.  I can see the suffering.  I am suffering.  but after a bit of (pretty masterful) coaching, I think I can face it.  I think I can suffer through it.  I don't think I can find a way out of it; I don't think it will turn out to be easier than I expected.  but I think I can face it.