Even Stevens

Rolling my mat up, replacing the block I hadn’t used and feeling rather defeated, I left my last Yin Yang class, taken in a humid room, with not a drop of sweat on me. I had spent much of the previous hour not being able to enter the full asanas, not meeting my eyes in the mirror or fully engaged, despite the beautiful voice of my teacher, and generally having Dark Thoughts.

Although savasana had cast her magic over those last few minutes my clenched jaw and tight chest had left no space for that sweet flow of breath to lead me through to my usual happy place.

The yin to my yang, the yang to my yin, is way out of kilter. Or, in official medical talk, I’m unbalanced.

We always seem to be looking for balance in class. If you tried it on this side, make sure you try it on the other and rest follows effort. It’s a tricky concept to master when you think about it. Life isn’t generally as even-stevens as we’d like or hope.

It’s something we seem to be encouraged to strive for on and off the mat, yet exactly how you measure that balance on an ever-changing landscape is surely subjective. I admit; I mostly live my life feeling decidedly out of step and actually being ok with it. (Better the devil you know?) Except physically. Being out of sorts physically tends to stir a pot of boiling rage and I don’t really consider myself to be an angry person. (Except when driving. Then something inexplicable happens and fists are waving, fingers flying upwards and all the words are used. ALL OF THE WORDS!)

Usually when this happens (when I’m physically out of sorts, not when I’m driving – no hope there) I try and have a word with myself, but this time I seem increasingly prone to apoplectic outbursts rather than just tutting and sighing like a normal person feeling sorry for themselves.

This time I’m struggling. I have to finally take time off yoga having ignored that little voice inside for the last few months that suggested rest might be a smart thing to do. This time I’m physically blocked from practicing at all and I was more than ready to take a slash and burn approach of hating everyone and everything, adopt negatively charged mantras and lie down in a pool of sullenness to wait it out.

That was Monday. You’ll be thrilled to know I’ve already evolved and in not-angry news I’ve finally taken a good, deep breath and got over myself.

I had already learnt, after practicing regularly for six years, that old injuries and niggles have simply become part of learning how my body works, what it needs, where my strengths and weaknesses reside. It also calls on a fair amount of work on the old ego, knowing when to pull back, when to refrain from pulling out an Instagram worthy posture because the alternative would be to, ah, not. And that’s possibly where I messed up.

I don’t remember exactly what I did but I do clearly remember thinking at the time, this doesn’t feel right, and then continued pushing through. As you do. If you’re an idiot.

So, I pulled a muscle in my bicep and ignored it like it a pro. Until I found I couldn’t lift, twist or hold my arm in certain positions and had a constant throbbing throb running down my arm through my wrist and round my shoulder. All the time, not just on my mat. Inconvenient, I thought. Then, f@%*K me this hurts, I thought and then, then my body overrode my ego in deciding to call a halt to all movement on the left side.

It turns out frozen shoulder or adhesive capsulitis is a new injury to me and in taking up residence in the bod, has decided it likes it so much it may put down a deposit and buy all the houses and a couple of hotels. Cortisone injections and time have put my practice, well certainly my asana-based practice, on hold for a bit.

Frustration aside, I’ve decided to look on this as an opportunity to regroup and take a different approach to my yoga. I’ll go for walks! I’ll meditate more! I’ll probably get a tad grumpy! I’ll worry about losing any flexibility or strength! I’ll resolve not to give in to anxiety about those worries! I’ll give up cheese for good! Endless possibilities.

Mostly though, I’ve decided to practice only as it works for me. This means once I’m back on my mat I’ll make some choices that may differ from the teacher’s instructions. For me this is a biggie. I’m one of those students who does exactly what the teacher says. Always. (Except for twisting left and right and that’s more hit and miss, not outright defiance.)

As this shoulder became less malleable and certain postures became undoable I’d tried to keep things balanced by holding back on my good side too. If I couldn’t flip over to wild thing on my left then I didn’t flip over on my right. Now I’m thinking hey, lets embrace the imbalance! I’ll take that wild thing on the side I can and love it like I always do.

After all, nothing is permanent – certainly not a simple injury, nor the nagging fear that I’ll ‘lose’ my yoga, or even the idea of getting out of my self-employed, carefully honed routine (breathing, breathing). There’s just the willingness to show up, to keep trying and learning, and to marvel at it all – this hugely, messy unbalanced life in all its wonderful imperfection.

– Jane

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What about you, how do you practice with injuries? Like an adult? Or do you prefer to self-diagnose? No judgement here … obviously.

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© The Yoga Connection 2016