learning my lessons, one torn ligament at a time.

While attempting to transition out of this: image

Somehow this occurred: image

 

I fell ass over tea kettles, smacking the bejesus out of my knee, my foot, twisting my shoulder and tearing a ligament in my ankle.  As a former ballerina-turned yoga instructor, I like to think of myself as fairly agile and graceful, but this was not one of my finer moments. In fact for weeks I’ve been feeling run down, burnt out, and just plain fucking tired. I’m one of those people who has a hard time slowing down. To me a rest day means teaching a hot yoga class or two and maybe doing a 45 minutes of rowing intervals. Sprinkle in some TRX and Barre and you have a typical Thursday for me. I just love to move and I have a very hard time sitting still. The only thing that yoga ever asks us to do is to quiet the mind. It seems for me that the only time I can find that peace and quiet is on the move. I’ve heard of vinyasa classes being referred to as “moving meditation” and that is exactly how I feel. So knowing that the purpose of yoga is to quiet the chatter of the mind, as stated clearly in Patanjali’s first sutra–yoga chitta vritti nirodha–why can’t I use my vigorous yoga and other exercise classes as my meditation? Moving meditation is a real thing. It really does work for a lot of people, myself included. But as with anything, there’s that pesky little thing called moderation, and moderation has NEVER been my forte. If I do something, I do it 150 percent or I don’t do it at all. I have always been like this and it’s burned me over and over. There’s definitely a badass quality of not giving up and pushing through that I have going on, but to what extreme? When does it end? When I get hurt? Yep, usually that’s when it ends. Oprah once said, “Difficulties come when you don’t pay attention to life’s whispers. Life always whispers to you first, but if you ignore the whisper, sooner or later you’ll get a scream". Yesterday I was tired and my body was done, but I insisted on practicing that transition out of scorpion into a split leg handstand. Crash, bam, there goes my goddamn ankle. I share this story with you in hopes that you’ll take a note from me–listen to your intuition. When you’re tired, rest. When your body feels like crap, stop pushing. Allow yourself time to heal and recover. Allow yoga to work it’s magic by not pushing so hard that you forget the actual purpose. We’re here to clear our heads and make ourselves happier beings on this planet. It’s all fun and games until someone ends up on crutches. As one of my favorite yoga instructors loves to say, “we bring our shit to yoga and turn yoga into shit”. I hereby declare I will *try* to keep my shit out of yoga. Who’s with me?