And then, while walking down an ever so slight incline, wearing flip-flops, my foot slipped a mere 20cms. To catch myself, I quickly stepped with my left foot. Upon lifting my leg to step, I felt the most excruciating pain and my left quads exploded. Now, yes, I do have a tendency to exaggerate, and while they didn't literally explode, they were instantly deformed. I held them down, pressing firmly with all the healing energy I could muster. It didn't matter. This was no slight spasm. It hurt so bad I almost puked. And then, I started limping the several blocks to my car...luckily someone I barely knew saw me and saved me. I couldn't really walk for a week and then I limped around for a few more. Rather than get super bummed about not being able to practice yoga, I instead practiced yoga! I meditated and practiced pranayama. And this, this is where the real work begins (for me at least). But still! I was desperate to be ready to practice yoga asana again. The quads were mostly healed. And an amazing yoga event was coming up in Edmonton; I already had tickets to the Bloom festival and I was going no matter what!
I attended the entire week-end and from Friday night at the Muttart until the very end, I was blooming and opening and blooming some more. I sat near and amongst most gorgeous and inspiring flowers, and I learned. As Shane Koyczan writes: "So I sit before flowers hoping they will train me in the art of opening up." And, just as I was opening up in sweet surrender while dancing like nobody was watching to the wicked and amazing beats of MC Yogi and DJ Drez, I stepped a little funny and, just like that, I turned my ankle over, spraining it pretty badly. I heard the crunch, felt the familiar snap of ligaments and tendons. You see, I'd done this before, to both ankles, though not for many years. My old reaction? Instant rage. Anger. But this time I just said to my dear Megan, "I sprained my ankle. I'll just watch from the edge for awhile." I wasn't attached to what my sprained ankle meant. It meant I couldn't really dance anymore. It meant I wouldn't be practicing asana for awhile, even though I had said aloud that very night that I was super excited to have decided to start attending inspired room at The Sattva School of Yoga. I simply thought to myself, "Oh. Maybe I am supposed to be still for awhile. I think I finally got the hint."
My ankle is still a little swollen and slightly discolored. I've had strong urges to go back to the studio and practice, ignoring what I know in my heart to be true. I'm not ready yet. I'm not healed. And I am the one responsible for my healing. Only I know how to soften and unravel the painful patterns in my body. And so, I have been practicing asana. At home. By myself. Listening to my body, to my breath, to the inner teacher. I have a home practice!! For real. One of my early introductions to yoga was at the University of Saskatchewan in a drama class. The Prof got us to do sun salutations most every class. At the end of the term I asked him if there were places to practice in Saskatoon. At that time, there were only maybe two places. But he also said this: "Yoga is something that you do by yourself every day. And then sometimes in a studio." I think he is right. You can practice every day in a studio too. But I think the real undoing, the real healing is done by yourself. With the additional support of the community and the teachers you come across.
My practice, as I gently apologize to my body and give it the love it has been deserving but not getting for the last 33 years, is simple. I turn on Singh Kaur's song "Mender of Hearts." I stand still and begin to notice my breath. And then, I move wherever that breath takes me. After I don't feel like moving anymore, I do kapalabhati then a combination of nadi shodhana and ujaiie with retention on the inhales and exhales (Srivatsa Ramaswami taught it to us at One Yoga in Saskatoon). Then, I meditate. During this practice, I often break down in tears. And I let them flow. Releasing. Opening. Surrendering. And learning to Love. Love even the pain for teaching me how to heal. And for teaching me to honour my own Self, my own heart. Remembering: "This above all, to thine own self be true." To be true to myself, I need to understand, no, overstand, who I am. And on the path to finding out who I am, there is much shattering to do. Transforming. Into what I have always been, and always will be.
Transformation
Batter me, shatter me
Three persons
or Four
God; Rhythm; Spirit; Life
Throw me to the floor
Crack me open with the lightning of Love
Light-ening, letting it in
Through the cracks.
Trusting. Knowing.
Knowing nothing
Can hurt me
Not really
Breaking, shattering, opening
A blast!
Vast...
Fast and violent
There's no time to wait
There is; No time.
Time. Time? Time!
What will become of me?
Having the courage to be free.
To be Me.
Broken, shattered, explosive light.
Fright. It's all right.
Afraid of that Power.
The Power within.
Daring enough?
To begin.
