Pain. It’s not something I used to talk about. I didn’t need to. It didn’t apply to me. Lately though, seems all I think about is pain. My physical, unrelenting pain. And for those that don’t know me…I am not a conventional medicine kind of gal. I don’t even like taking over-the-counter pain relievers. And usually don’t unless I absolutely have to! I’ve always assumed these beliefs stem from my journey with the twelve step program. So, here I embark on a new journey. The journey into middle-age; peri-menopausal and arthritic, and pissed off but still trying to be happy and content even with all of the chaos in my head.
And, in this journey, yoga has become my friend and nemesis.
When yoga is my nemesis, I curse the lack of progress. I despair over my tight hip and hamstring. I whine at my knee that just won’t move the way I think it should move. My shoulders: why have they failed me? Curse the stupid fucking elbow and forearm! And don’t even get me started on the calf pain that won’t allow me long walks on the beach.
However, there are times when yoga is my friend. With music playing and incense burning, I sink into my mat. When I’m feeling stiff and uncomfortable in my own skin yoga loves me anyway. Like a supportive hug from someone I love, yoga allows me to relax. I just breathe and let my body open up. I feel my body respond to the letting go and my mind follows suit. I release everything.
Yoga permits me to let go of my physical stress. It is my prescription for pain relief. All I have to do is open up and let it take me into the moment.
p.s. Here’s a view from my mat.