Pain is my guru...

Ganesha, the creator & remover of obstacles.

"New asana, new pain."  "If yoga causes pain, yoga cures pain." "Pain is your guru."  These are just a few of the peculiarly wise, often funny, and sometimes debatable Guruji-isms ashtangis like to rattle off as it suits them.  I guess these about pain are similar to my particular favorite, "no coffee, no prana," and, well, who the hell am I to argue with that one?! 

I've been thinking a lot about pain in relation to my ashtanga practice because, well, lately I've been experiencing pain that has resurfaced from an old shoulder injury.  A few years ago, I had a complete tear in the labrum and partial tears in some of the ligaments that hold the shoulder together.  I tried to rehab it for half a year with alternative methods like herbs and acupuncture and some ass kicking medieval torture physical therapy, and then went ahead and opted for the surgery my orthopedic specialist recommended from the get go.  He said there was no way to heal a complete tear like that with the level of edema I had, the labrum would not reattach to itself.  So, after a very painful surgery, I had a long road of recovery which left me completely immobilized for 2 months, followed by more than a year of intense, brutal rehab.  It sucked.  Big time.  I got really depressed during that time of my life.  I couldn't wash my own hair, or dress myself, or pull my pants up after I peed, or drive my car (stick shift), much less continue my tai chi practice which I was really in love with and totally committed to.  I gained a bunch of weight, having gone from very active and happy in my life to completely laid up and totally depressed.  I was on lots of narcotic painkillers, which definitely didn't help my mental state even though they helped with the physical pain.  Those were some very dark days that I'd prefer not to think about.  I've come so far since then through a lot of persistent, deep, hard work on every aspect of myself.  I've put in a metric ton of sweat and tears to be the healthy, active, joyful, and contented person I am today.  There really is no substitute for sweat.

Screaming Artist, lithograph by Fritz Scholder

And so I noticed something peculiar these last few days when my shoulder started acting up.  My temper started acting up too.  I was getting frustrated and angry very easily, for no particular reason really, and I was reminded very quickly how closely physical pain and emotional pain are tied together.  Pain is an interesting thing, even when acutely physical, it can have an even greater impact emotionally and spiritually.  I don't really mind a certain degree of physical pain, I've got a pretty good tolerance to it up to a certain threshold.  But all the attendant repercussions, or perceived repercussions, of it are where the challenges really lie.  The fear, the dependence on others, the asking for help, the cutting back or total elimination of activities I love, the feelings of weakness and vulnerability, feelings of failure, of not being good or strong or mindful enough.  All that stuff is totally bogus when you really take a good long look at it, but these things like to come up and rear their ugly heads when you're down and out.  Funny, that... Just remember to enjoy a nice cathartic scream every once in a while...

So where does this leave me with my practice?  On the one hand, I don't want to unquestioningly submit to the fear that I could re-injure myself and use that as justification to let myself off the hook in moments when I can push through and get to something deeper.  Pain can be an opportunity, a key, a doorway, and by confronting it and walking through it, it can lead me to places I've never dreamed of, in really awesome, empowering ways.  Where there is fear, there is power, and confronting pain and working with it can lead to all new, previously inaccessible, feelings of wholeness and health, strength and focus.  On the other hand, I really-seriously-for-real don't want to f'in re-injure myself and compromise a happy, healthy, strong body and mind ready for the intensity of daily practice in Mysore in just six weeks!

So, I just acknowledged to myself all this emotional stuff as it was triggered by the shoulder pain, patted myself on the head, and said, "you'll be ok, this is probably just old stuff purging itself and not indicative of a new injury."  And then I decided to give myself an extra rest day on Monday, which was the day after it started hurting.  I was feeling hungry and weak in general that day too (three weeks into my fast) and with my shoulder aching, I decided not to push myself, to just simply rest, peacefully, with no affliction or conflict about my decision.  I picked my practice back up on Tuesday and managed it with just a few minor modifications... not even trying to bind marichyasana d, and taking it easy in all the chaturangas.  That night my shoulder was aching again.  It felt dislocated and had a sharp soreness in the joint and behind my shoulder blade.  I had restless sleep that night and called my chiropractor first thing on Wednesday.  She popped me all back into place, and I went ahead to the new Mysore class I mentioned in my blog last week.  I decided to just be easy on myself, to just enjoy my practice wherever it is and not to push too hard.  And you know what?  I had an awesome practice, I felt more present in each asana, deepening my relationship to my breath and movement.  My heart felt more open, and practice felt very sweet in a new way.  I simply felt an openness and gratitude and joy to be there, to be practicing.  And I didn't even modify all that much, other than doing girly chaturanga (with knees down) and skipping the shoulder stand asanas in the closing sequence.  And I feel okay.  The shoulder may take some time to come back around and join the party.  I may not be able to push as far as I want with my upper body strength just yet, and that's okay.  There is plenty of room to grow within the practice in other ways, and I am open and look forward to those opportunities. 

And so I am learning something very important.  Pain in and of itself is not a bad thing.  It is a teacher, and it is a healer.  I'm not going to ever say, "I'm in pain, no practice today," because that will not serve me.  I will listen to my body, and if I am legitimately injured, I will recognize that and take time to heal.  But there is no reason to turn away from practice altogether.  It's all about finding the intelligent edge and backing off just a bit when necessary.  Pain is an opportunity, so instead of asking myself if I should practice, I will ask, "how can this pain guide me today into a deeper understanding of myself and my practice, how may it be of service?"  And I will follow it to wherever it leads me, and I will revel in what I find there.  Pain is a guru.  It is a key.  A doorway.  Walk through...

Novantatre, from the Me + You series by Laura Lea Nalle

 

Pain is a treasure, 

for it contains mercies.
The kernel is soft 

when the rind is scraped off.
Oh brother, 

the place of darkness and cold
is the fountain of life 

in the cup of ecstasy.
So also is endurance of pain 

and sickness and disease.
For from abasement 

proceeds exultation.
The spring seasons are 

hidden in the autumns.
And the autumns 

are charged with springs.

~Rumi

When the impossible becomes possible...

"Practice, and all is coming," as Guruji was fond of saying.  And it's true.  The thing I love, well one of the many things I love, about practice is that it continually reveals new things and opens up previously closed or inaccessible territory.  It shows me the places I fear to go, the places where I feel comfortable, the places where I struggle, the places where I feel vulnerable and weak, the places where I feel strong and empowered, the places where I try to take the easy way out, the places where I hold myself accountable.  Today I went to a mysore class with a teacher I've never taken a class from.  I keep a solid, consistent practice at home every day, but I am ready to step things up and get more regular feedback from a teacher, so I've been checking out some teachers in town.  And the class was great.  Lots of little minor corrections here and there.  My balance was off more than usual, but that's ok.  I'm fasting and get dizzy and it's hard to balance, and so I am patient with myself.  And as I'm working through the seated postures, the teacher keeps an eye on me.  I get to the marichyasanas and bind just fine in all of them except marichy d.  He comes over to assist me, and with a little help, I bound marichyasana d for the first time ever.  And it felt so damn good.  And it was like a huge sigh for my spirit, having struggled with it for so long.  It is, arguably, the toughest posture in the primary series.  It is considered a gateway posture and is the peak of the primary series crescendo.  When I first started my ashtanga practice, I thought I'd never be able to get fully into that posture.  It seemed like totally off-limits territory for me.  There are a lot of postures like that, especially as you venture into intermediate and advanced series.  But after working at it every day for a while, I finally did it!  I also did chakrasana for the first time with help from the teacher.  I can't help but wonder what else I can do that I thought was totally impossible!  I like this teacher, it's like he knows what I am capable of more than I know.  I'll be going back to his mysore class twice a week.  The rest of the week, I'll keep working on my practice at home to integrate the feedback I get in class.  It's kind of amazing how much progress can be made with daily practice.  And it's remarkable how off I feel when I skip a few days.  There are no shortcuts or easy ways out.  There's no way to fake it.  It is a spectacularly awesome feeling when the once impossible becomes possible.  There is only practice, and through practice, all is coming...