Last night was my first time back
on the mat in a month.
My wrist had been healing, and I
did my best to stay motivated, trying to walk and run and stretch.
But, by the end, I really was just spending my time waiting to come back.
On the day I was cleared to
practice, I thought I’d be so excited, but as the day wore on, I got more and
more out of sorts. By the time I got home from work, I was not sure I’d even
go.
I knew at the end of my month’s
rest, I would lose a little strength and flexibility; however, I did not think
I would also lose a little confidence.
I couldn’t believe I was
considering giving myself another week at home.
I had to start again, literally. So,
I jumped in the shower as if the day was just beginning, and did all the things
I do to get ready in the morning, even though it was night.
Feeling better, I packed up my
mat and hopped in the car, driving to my favorite spot, a beautiful yoga studio
downtown with a big, open practice room.
I parked the car, walked ‘round
the corner and there on the city sidewalk stood my yoga buddies!
I was so thrilled to see them,
these people who have come to mean so much to me. Their hoots, hollers and hugs
welcomed me warmly and boosted my confidence enough to make my way with them to
the studio.
As we sat in the lounge, the
others asked if I knew that I would have to hold back. No arm balances. No
crow. No jump backs.
What’s
left for me to do? I
asked, knowing I had to start slowly but only now realizing how much. They had
a quick answer for me:
The
rest of your practice!
But, they quickly told me how
injuries can force a focus on other parts of the practice and even demonstrated
some modifications. One of the girls told me an injury helped her learn to go
from seated position to handstand. Another told me how an injury improved her
forearm stands.
Their collective support and
encouragement gave my confidence another needed boost, and we walked inside and
placed our mats in this most special and spacious room. The high ceiling fans
circulated a warm breeze that had made its way in through the open French
doors.
It was as if I was dining on a long
overdue meal. I wanted to gobble up whatever was next. I wanted to clean my
plate, and I realized how mistaken I was to think that I’d be left hungry
without the arm balances.
Each and every pose was work, and
when it came time for Crane, I instead sat in a squat with my knees together in
front of me. Turns out, my heels can’t even touch the ground! Maybe they never
could? A new challenge served up.
When it was time to jump back, I
simply stepped back, happy to be able to have any weight on my wrists in the
first place. A big helping of
gratitude.
And I waited out the Side Crows
in a forward fold, my head no longer as close to my knees as before. A bite of
humble pie.
We flowed through Warrior Is and
IIs, Side Angles, Half Moons and Triangles, and we reversed them, too. The
sweat started early, and I savored each movement, my muscles getting a taste of
what they had missed.
Then the instructor brought us to
Humble Warrior. With Warrior I feet, I bound my hands behind me and leaned
forward, lifting them up and over my back.
And with my head bowed to the
mat, I felt such a rush of emotion that I had to catch my breath, as if I had
eaten too fast. I was overcome with everything the evening had brought me.
I was back in my seat at this abundant
banquet where everything is in reach: My practice and my mat. The instructor
and the room. My friends and their energy, support and
camaraderie.
As usual, the practice was over
in the blink of an eye. But, I was sated.
On the way out, a fellow yogi
asked how I felt, and I told her I felt everything! My muscles ached as if the
practice was brand new.
But she explained it so much
better and knew exactly what I meant.
You
mean it hurt so good!
Exactly! I said, knowing
I had only whet my appetite and would be hungry again soon.
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