Monday, January 2, 2012

Days 12 & 13: Slowing Down

The past three days have been a great lesson for me in slowing down. On Saturday I woke up with vertigo (something that happens to me about every season, blah) and really couldn't do much. Yesterday was better, although moving my head suddenly or upside down gave me the spins. Not fun for a yoga teacher.

Here are some of the thoughts that accompanied me this weekend:

- If I don't practice yoga everyday, I'm going to lose all my flexibility
- My body is going to get totally messed up from not being able to go to yoga
- I'm going to gain weight because I can't exercise

Reality check: My body is fine. I'll be a little stiff when I return to my mat, but I haven't lost my flexibility. I haven't gained weight.

Just more thoughts to monitor, notice, and let go. On Saturday, when I really wasn't able to move my head at all, I did a very slow yoga practice with only a few poses, which I held for a long time. It was actually really calming and made me remember what the practice is about anyways: connecting to breath, to myself, and to god. It's not about being able to do the splits because that will finally prove that I'm good enough.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to assist a yoga class, which I haven't done since I first got my teaching certification. A lot of times when I'm teaching my eyes are closed or I'm just really "in it," so I don't get to observe and take it all in. But yesterday I got to just watch, and it was really beautiful. What an amazing thing it is to see a room full of people committed to breathing fully, opening their minds, bodies, and hearts, and surrendering to something greater than their humanness. Not that our humanness isn't beautiful, too. Assisting and observing the class was another reminder to me of why I fell in love with yoga in the first place: because it offers me moments of nothing. No thoughts, no judgements, just me. And underneath all of my irrational thoughts and feelings, there is peace.

I can't say that I'm not excited for tonight or tomorrow, when I hope to be well enough to go to a class, but I know that I'm not losing anything in the meantime. Sometimes I think my body plans these little dizzy spells on purpose, to gently remind me of why I'm on this path. Om Shanti.


1 comment:

  1. What a beautiful post! In a moment of wisdom I once said to Karen that I thought injury was a great teacher of humility. If we were perfect all the time we would never learn to truly appreciate our body. I'm glad your feeling better.

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