I was at yoga punx on Sunday. It's held in a funky old loft space in the Mission in SF, and it's all people with tattoos and piercings, and pretty much people over 35, if not over 40, and a lot of recovering addicts, and the teacher plays old punk rawk tunes on her ipod. I was doing a pose called dolphin, like this:
but in this setting
It can be a prep for this kind of headstand
But, the thing is, the weight of your body is supported by your arms, rather than by your neck. So, I have some strong arms, from cleaning houses, and I was very close to being able to do the headstand, so my teacher (the lady with the pink hair) came and helped to lift me from my hips (and she said something about using my core to do the headstand)....
And then I felt such a powerful rush of fear, distrust of my body and resentment, especially fear of letting anyone near my belly, fear of exposing my belly--but figurative exposing--the belly as the core of my being, the truth of who I am, that my body involuntarily contracted to protect my belly, myself, the core of my being, and I fell over. It was a revealing moment.
I'm still mulling it over.