Pain. Oops, I did it again.

I’m going to talk about a recent experience. We’re not going to get into anything technical here. This is a typical human story in this day and age.

I begin a new routine, it is day one. I am so excited, I can’t wait to start. I am going to do an hour of yoga every day, I might start running, and I will dance all day long! I begin with yoga. I give myself a little pep talk that includes the infamous words, don’t push yourself too hard. And I begin on my mat. My mind keeps asking as I am in one pose, what’s next? I am so excited to be on my mat. Waking up my muscles I feel all the creaks but try not to feel strain. Move within the open range of motion. Where there is restriction, back off. We are all familiar with the old ways of exercise, like feeling the burn, and it brings a lot into question, such as what does playing the edge even mean?

My back chronic pain has taught me some valuable lessons, and they challenge me daily to uphold a new concept, one that asks me to stay out of the pain spot, and through ease and spaciousness, move around it until that pain spot moves with ease as well. It’s as if you go right up to the cliff edge and someone is behind you giving you little pushes, as if somehow that is going to lessen the fear or risk of falling off. Instead, what if we start slow, further from the edge, take a seat, wait awhile, then move a little closer, repeat the process. The edge might not feel as scary utilizing space, time, breath, and calm.

Okay, this is a good plan, I am excited about it. Yoga practice goes well, I sit and meditate. Now I begin an arduous task that I have set out for myself, that will likely take a week to make any progress on, but that is why I am here, on a two week sabbatical to focus. I lay out all my art supplies, organized and ready. I sit on the floor because I love the floor, I can see everything at once and feel like a mad scientist ready for the experiments and ah-has to bubble to the surface. I sit there on the floor. For hours. I know my tendency to obsess, not take breaks, and yeah, here I am doing just that. I don’t feel any discomfort, must be fine.

Okay it’s time to dance! Let’s do it!! I turn on the tunes, I stand up, oohh, the back is quite creaky. That’s okay I’ll get it to move, I won’t push but, well, I’m gonna push. Patience and moving slowly have left the building. I want relief, I want exercise, and I want it now. And after about a half hour of doing exactly that, which although a little fun, mostly it just feels like I am in a tug o’ war with my back stress, I lay down, hoping that a little supine (on the back) rest will make it alright again. That those few minutes lying down will be enough for my back to forgive me for the abuse I just imposed on her.

We know where this is going right? We’ve all been there. She’s pissed. She’s like, after all we’ve been through, you still doin’ this shit to me? I can’t even look at the floor where all my great ideas are scattered about. I lean uncomfortably over to grab the necessary items and seek out a chair and table to sit at. Never did a chair look so good. So guess what I do the whole next day? Loving, nurturing exercises for my back. Nothing too fast, no increased heart rate aerobics, no running. Feels like a setback? Always. I sit in a chair at a table that offers me a tall spine, feet firmly planted on the floor. I do what needs to be done. I take responsibility for my self-induced torture.

So, that’s a story we are all familiar with. The nugget here is that this common story stirs up tons of anxiety, a waterfall of emotions. Did I just fuck myself over for forever? Will I never be free of this? HOW LONG WILL THIS LAST? Right? Yeah, because we don’t have x-ray vision and if we did, would it really help break these patterns? Thing is, it could last a long time, or it could just be a couple days of setback. We won’t know til we live through it. But we all know that stressing about it, increasing the amount of worry, floods the body with more stress hormones, slows the healing process, and creates way more pain instead of less.

So yesterday I may have spent the day utilizing all those great tools I was taught that I now teach others, I did the work, and I was relatively calm about it (this is an accomplishment). But I also had the little voice in my head that was shaky, worried, unsure how many days I might stay in this condition I put myself through. Because of doing this enough times, I know the drill. But I still do it to myself, and the worry doesn’t completely go away.

Utilize the tools. That is why we go to class, that is why we break down movements and ideas to a nauseatingly slow and precise speed. All the practice, mindful movement and still listening, is all about these moments. Yes, we hope that we put ourselves in this position less over time, but also, we are human and it’s a thing we do. So, as my favoritest quote of B.K.S. Iyengar goes, Yoga (awareness) teaches us to cure what we need not endure, and to endure what we cannot cure. How will we approach the setbacks, whether they come from an outside source or from our own ego, that is our choice, and may we continue forward in gentleness. And, as Pema Chodron says, in unconditional friendliness.