Odds and Ends

Had been having numb pain on my left arm…until last Tuesday when I sneaked in Avril’s led class for beginners to do mysore (Thanks, Avril, for accommodating the pasaway me, ha ha!). She adjusted my Prasarita C by pushing my arms down the floor, as pictured below. 

Ouch! My left arm REALLY hurt. I could resist…or persist. I chose the latter. Up to my last breath. And as I did my last exhalation, I heard (or felt?) popping, running from my left upper arm down to my wrist. Wow! I felt something had just been released! It made a big difference in my practice that night. That’s for the physical part anyway; the psycho-emotional part is yet to be revealed. 

That experience led me to ask when it is right to surrender and let go (like I did that night) and when to protect oneself and resist. Not only in yoga asanas but in life in general.

*****

I was surprised to find vegetarian options at the Apartment 1B. For appetizer, I had baked samosa–not the typical Indian samosa though. Fillings were made of mushrooms and spinach, and the thinly-made wrap was crunchy, almost like the pastry layers of croissant. Not too flaky, just right. Not greasy, too, since it was baked. Yummy!

Gruyere cheese added a twist in their French onion soup. For entree, I had three cheese (ricotta, parmesan, and cheddar) vegetable lasagna. Yummy, yummy! Even my carnivore friends liked it.

vegetarian lasagna

Another nice thing about this resto is that even the meat dishes come with a generous serving of vegetables (carrots and broccoli). Two thumbs up!   

The flourless chocolate fudge and brewed coffee were equally wonderful.

*****

Early last year, I wrote in this post about my four-month-old (then) niece who effortlessly did cobra cum locust pose. Now she has advanced to Eka Pada Adho Mukha Svanasana!

She’d get into the pose and ask my sister, “What am I doing?” To which my sister would always reply “yoga!” Then she’d giggle! Nah, I couldn’t claim credit for that–my sister did Iyengar for four years while a cousin of my brother-in-law is a yoga teacher.

Back Pain

Nah, not that I can do pasasana above. I just need a photo of a back for visual effects and found this impressive photo of Jon. 

Been experiencing back pain since two weeks ago when I arrived in Baguio. I thought it was just due to the long land travel without the benefit of going to the john plus dehydration because I knew I wouldn’t be going to the john in hours. 

Came back home but the pain was still on and off. Then I thought it could be the mattress…so I went to sleeping on a wooden bed to give my back a good stretch a la savasana. Didn’t work. Still there.

Pain has been particularly excruciating after spending hours on computer. So I started blaming my chair, the table, even my computer…but hey, I have been working with these things for years already. Couldn’t be the culprit.

Last night during practice, it took me a while to get into plough (photo still courtesy of Jon) in preparation for chakrasana. Waaaah! My back seemed to break!  

Today, pain is still there and it’s not the morning-after-yoga kind. So I searched for the psychological meaning of back pain, which ranges from the feeling of being not supported, to the experience of major changes in life, to denied depression.

Hmmm, let’s see. All I can do now is to wait for the my truth, and feelings, to reveal itself. Body dialogue isn’t working, at least not yet. My body is giving me a silent treatment, so to speak, he he.

For all I know, this could be due to lack of practice–I’m now down to twice a week, trying to get back to at least four times.

Oh well, the journey continues….

Honoring Pain

I have blogged about pain a few times already—not that it is my favorite topic; I just consider it as part of my everyday life. The morning after I do yoga, I welcome it. Every time I get rid of my unwanted hair, plucking or waxing, it is there. From a simple paper cut to a more terrifying root canal, pain is my inevitable company. But these are all physical pain—the kind I find easiest to deal with. And to heal.

The other day, when Teacher Pio was in lecturing mood, he said that there are different types of pains and wounds—physical, subtle (referring to emotional and psychological), and even spiritual. He continued, “when you give yourself to someone….” Now I won’t get into that; just let him tell you his story, he he.

I have been wounded several times over (I’ve said it here), not the physical kind, and for various reasons. Sometimes healing does not come so easy, and so is forgiveness. Add to that the usual remarks from well-meaning people:

– “You should not feel that way.” Fine, but the fact is, I am feeling this way! I am hurting. I am in pain. Please do not make me deny it.

– “Learn to forgive, as God has forgiven us.” That’s noble. But that’s not my issue. I am in pain. A Catholic priest once told me when I was blabbering about my pain and how frustrated I was for not being able to forgive those who hurt me, “So what? Who told you that you should forgive them?” I was shocked. Of course, this statement of his should not be taken out of context, as a long processing came after his rhetorical questions.

– “Pray.” As if I don’t.

– “Move on.” Could you please tell me how?

– “Let go.” The best response to this remark that I have ever heard came from my former spiritual directress. She said, “You cannot let go of that of which you do not have a firm grasp.”

The article When Pain Comes Our Way, Honoring All Experiences has a profound message on how we could honor our pain (instead of denying it). It has brought me memories of my crisis period and how I struggled to find healing, only to realize that it comes only after acknowledging, embracing, and honoring that which needs to be healed.

I am still on my way to recovery and yoga plays a part in it. Not only has the practice taught me to listen to my body and emotions; more importantly it has brought me healing through self-love as well as pointed me to where my subtle hurts lie. Thus, I always tell my friends, yogin or not, who are experiencing chronic body pain to listen to it, dialogue with it if they can…as honoring pain leads to healing.

Recommended readings:

The Wounded Healer by Henri Nouwen

Don’t Forgive Too Soon, Extending the Two Hands that Heal by Dennis Linn, Sheila Linn, and Matthew Linn

Healing Spiritual Abuse and Religious Addiction by Dennis Linn, Sheila Linn, and Matthew Linn

Healing Life’s Hurts, Healing Memories through the Five Stages of Forgiveness by Dennis Linn and Matthew Linn

Sebastian tear + yoga teacher

Funny, somebody searched this phrase in the net. Duh?! Is someone tracking my record of injuries and…who “could have caused” them? Ha ha! Thanks to WordPress, I now have a title for this blog!

Since Tuesday last week, my yoga session with Teacher Pio has not been that easy. In fact, I sent him a message asking, “Does this signal the beginning of our tormenting nights?” That night the straps in the shelf found their way into the shala, as we did the full pigeon pose. I thought my hip joints were going to break—ouch!

source: www.yoga.about.com

The following night we were only supposed to deepen our poses. “Pull your knee caps, push your heels on the floor, tail bone up, tuck your stomach…inhale, exhale…” Teacher Pio went as he instructed us in the downward facing dog pose.

source: yoga poetry of the body

Then “snap!” I heard a sound from behind (literally). I think it was something around my right sitting bone. Gee, there are just some things I do not get yet in the practice of yoga. I was already holding the position—it’s not as if I am in transition from one pose to another— then something would just snap without any warning. No pain, no tightness of muscles.

The first time this happened to me, I was holding the wide-angle forward bend when my left hamstring suddenly snapped.

source: yoga poetry of the body

That time, however, I did not take time to center my sitting bone before getting into the posture. “How can something as gentle as yoga cause you injury?” a friend asked me once. “Lack of awareness,” I answered. But this time, lack of awareness in downward dog, which I have been doing since my first day ever of yoga?!

The succeeding nights did not get any easier, what with the turtle pose (or more appropriately in our case “a distorted turtle” said Teacher) and spine and leg stretches.

source: the complete book of vinyasa yoga

Last Saturday only Jane and I attended the evening session, which means we had all of Teacher’s attention. Uh-oh. When Teacher was pushing my right leg (yes, the one with the torn sit bone muscles) in his hope that I could perfect supta trivikramasana (sorry, no English translation provided), I was tempted to ask Jane, being a mother of four, “Could labor pains be this bad?”

source: the complete book of vinyasa yoga

But in this pain lies a hope. You see, I have felt (and seen) how misaligned my right leg is. For me to keep my balance in tree pose, I have to twist my right heel a little outward.

source: yoga poetry of the body

When I do back bends, I can actually feel my right hip joint protruding a little bit more than my left side. This misalignment becomes very much pronounced when I do the bow pose—my reflection on the mirror just shows how asymmetrical body is! My right leg always turns outward.

source: yoga poetry of the body

I told Teacher about it once and he replied, “Be content with what you have.” Be content with my twisted right leg. Sigh. Nevertheless, he keeps on rotating it inward whenever I do the pigeon and monkey poses.

source: www.yoga.about.com

source: the complete book of vinyasa yoga

“Yoga will first show your misalignments…then it will correct them,” an old yogi friend told me. I believe that. And I hope that this pain only signals that something in my structure is getting corrected. For the meantime, I try to be content with what I have and what I can do.

The Gift of Pain

The gift of what? Have I turned masochistic? Nope, I have just adopted a new way of looking at pain.

I was suspended from yoga for a week because of the on-and-off pain on my right leg. During this time, I realized that my pain was more psychological than physiological. Exactly the same thing my acupuncturist Dr. Eddie told me months ago about my “reddish tongue”. This realization led to reflect and read again Philip Yancey’s Where Is God When It Hurts.

Yancey said that the typical American response to pain is to take an aspirin at the slightest ache and silence the pain. People dare not shut off the warning system without first listening to the warning. (34)

He cited the case of Bob Gross, an NBA player who wanted to play despite a badly injured ankle. Knowing that Gross was needed for the important game, the team doctor injected Marcaine, a strong painkiller, into three different places of his foot. Gross did start the game but after a few minutes, as he was battling for a rebound, a snap was heard that was loud enough to fill the whole arena. Although he felt no pain, a bone had broken in his ankle and ended Gross’s career. (34)

Yancey furthered that pain should be viewed as a communication network, a remarkable network of sensors that stand guard duty with the singular purpose of keeping us from injury. It cannot be switched off. It can rage out of control as in the case of a terminal cancer patient, that even though its warning has been heard, there is no more that can be done to treat the cause of the pain. But 99 percent of all the pains that people suffer are short-term pains: correctable situations that call for medication, rest, or a change in lifestyle. Pain demands the attention that is crucial to one’s recovery. It is a signal alerting one to attend to a matter that needs change. (34-35,56)

Change.

Sigh.