Kind of an oxymoron, huh? While I was in the first yoga class I’d taken in three months this morning, however, I realized that I have been practicing a form of Competitive Yoga for some time.
I’ve been taking yoga classes off and on, but mostly on, for over 11 years now, so I’m no newcomer. And maybe that’s the reason I started getting a little smug. I’ll admit to sneaking a peek out of the corner of my eye at how well others were doing during standing bow-pulling pose—I could raise my foot so I could see it peek out over my head in the mirror—could they? (Of course, usually when I peeked was when I would lose my balance altogether and have to start over. Figures.) And during camel pose, no wimpy hands-supporting-the-middle-back half-assed pose for me—it was full-on grab-your ankles camel or nothing, baby.
During one particular back-bending pose the instructor always prefaces with “If you have a sensitive lower back, please support your lower back with your hands, otherwise keep your arms over your head.” I’ll admit to being very proud of myself for keeping my arms raised the entire time, thank you very much.
But that was Before. As in Before May 14th, when I torqued my neck in a beginner’s doubles tennis game (that’s a whole ‘nother story) so badly that it left me impaired to the point that I spent many days doing nothing but sitting still at home. And I mean literally sitting still. Sitting or lying on my back on the floor with a heating pad around my neck. No driving. No cooking. No reading. No using the computer. No nothing but listening to books on tape or sitting. Lots of sitting. At least my meditation training came in handy.
It drove me crazy, but I learned a lot about myself during that time. Lots of lessons about Who am I if I can’t do my Stuff. After many weeks of physical therapy I finally felt ready to get back into some of my Stuff, which included yoga. I went to my regular class and made it about halfway through when I realized it was a bad idea. Setback. More weeks of PT.
Then by the end of summer I finally felt completely recovered. Started tennis again. Started yoga—a new class. Bad idea. I was so ecstatic to be Exercising Me again that I ignored the signs my body was desperately trying to shove in my face. Setback. Not as bad as my initial injury, but bad enough to send me back to PT for a recovery that has been agonizingly slow.
As the end of my latest round of therapy neared, I thought I might be ready to start yoga again. The stiffness that was creeping down my back and causing peripheral aches and pains seemingly unrelated to the initial injury might be relieved by the flexibility I gain from yoga.
So I went back to my regular class this morning—smarter this time. When the instructor intoned about lower back issues, I gratefully supported myself while doing a gentle backbend. While the rest of the class was doing standing bow-pulling pose, I stayed at the beginner’s level, remaining upright. No triangle pose for me—I opted for Warrior II instead. And camel? Fuggetabout it. I rested in child’s pose.
During the class I remembered a favorite yoga quote, from Cyndi Lee of Om Yoga. On one of her Instructional CDs she cheerily reminds us, "Don't worry about being perfect, because at the same time you never will be—you already are." She is also the first teacher I’ve heard explicitly state that the basic principle of yoga is ahimsa, or nonviolence, meaning no competing with yourself or anyone else. You are to work with the body and mind that you have today. Not last May. Not next month. Right now.
So I was proud of myself but with a whole different mindset today. I managed to get through an entire yoga class without hurting myself. I’d call that progress, wouldn’t you?
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