Headplant!

In my continuing quest to discover every possible way to fall out of each pose I have, yet again, managed to fall directly on my cranium. I can see a pattern developing. I hope it does not develop into brain damage. 

I have recently received a modification to fixed firm pose. This is, although a great experience, not entirely surprising. My knees, unlike my spine, have the same genetic code as Gumby.

In this slight modification one sits, hips on the floor between your legs, puts their hands on their feet, looks up and traces a line back to the wall, eventually touching your head to the floor. Sounds normal enough, but notice what I left out -- lowering yourself down with one elbow at a time. I now get to attempt to lower myself back with no assistance. It has to be pure core muscle lowering me onto the ground. I don't really have the core muscles trained yet though; they have no idea what to do without my elbows guiding them. 

I start the pose like normal. I can see the ground. Just two more thumb-widths to the ground.

Hello, floor! Fancy seeing you here!

At exactly two inches from the ground my brain begins sudden rapid communication with my body.

Body: I have no idea where to put my hands!
Brain: On your feet, dummy!
Body: Where the heck are those? Ak! Which way is down? Where is the floor!?
Brain: You are LOOKING at it! How have you survived this long?

My hands flail, I lose track of the ground. My tummy muscles give up and release, probably just to prove to my body that the ground is still the direction gravity pulls. 

Oh dear, floor! I am SO confused!

The two inches between my head and the floor become a monumental gap. I hit the floor with the speed indicative of a fall from a dizzying height rather than a pathetic two-inch gap. I lay there laughing. Possibly this is delirium. 

Floor, great to see you. We simply must do this again sometime!

Now the work begins. I have to get myself back up from the ground, again with no elbows. I repeat the process backwards, hands flailing, tummy muscles flexing, giving up, flexing, laughing. 

I am not entirely sure I have been given this posture for the reasons I outlined above. It has occurred to me that the floor series is quite boring for teachers. It seems to me likely they needed a floor show to liven things up. I am happy to oblige.