First, the title implies that I even have a true self (which, if we are FB friends, you now know is a manatee).
Second, yes, yes, God yes, I am a sarcastic motherfucker (also, I like to swear). So there's that.
But... but...
I have recently injured myself. Well, who knows what happened. Let's just say "Injuries occurred" and leave it at that.
So, I find myself injured AND...(and)...at the same time in a Yoga Teacher Training class (folks call that YTT). And doing yoga, and some (minimal) swimming and no (NO!) crossfit and so I am going crazeeeee (with so many e's!).
And then I went to yoga tonight, and it was fine, but also my hip hurt and I can't do Pigeon the way I like to (as in, usually?, I could, like, fall asleep in Pigeon. I LOVE pigeon). Tonight, Pigeon made me want to cry.
It is difficult, one finds, to confront one's limitations. (I've heard this. I don't really experience it firsthand...)
Also, I have not gone running in SO! LONG! It's really pitiful.
So, I find that being injured, that is, having an injury, leads one to contemplate the horizons of one's limitations and one begins to inquire as to the quality of one's existence in this compromised self and one meditates on the meaning of words like "rest" and "recovery."
What do they mean?
Apparently they mean that coffee tastes so much better with chocolate in it and that cookies are good and also wine.
Apparently they mean that when injury occurs, that is, when one is injured, one must embrace the exhale (so! yoga!) and one must try to Learn from the Injury.
So what can my injured hip teach me?
Well, so far?
BACK THE FUCK OFF
(I mean, I told you I swear a lot in the second point, way up there, so you can't act surprised now...)
6 comments:
SARK wrote that maybe the reason we haven't found the cure for the common cold yet is because the common IS the cure. Sometimes we need illnesses and injuries so we take the time to rest, relax, make nests out of our beds, and eat ice cream in our PJs. We need to nurture ourselves. That's the best self-love.
Oh Woman. I don't know how you're making it but I like Molly's comment. It does sound like the pain has been inspiring. All the best poems were written when the poets were ill-ing. And Magic Mountain. Magic Mountain!
Feel better soon, my friend. You'll be back in business soon I know.
Yes. Damn all the pigeons. This morning I noticed that my shoulder was hurting (still uncommon enough that I notice), and it dawned on me that it was probably a result of carrying various (little!) grandsons around, yesterday. Really? Am I so feeble? I mean, I knew I was no kick-ass, cross-fitting yogi, but still . . .
Feel better soon, Doctor. Heal thyself. And btw and duh: "coffee tastes so much better with chocolate in it and that cookies are good and also wine."
I sprained my ankle a few weeks ago playing low-level pickup ball when this guy stuck out his foot, Bruce Bowen style, after I jumped up for a shot. Of course I landed right on it and rolled it bad and it POPPED and I was writhing on the ground yelling like a little girl. I thought it was fractured.
Anyway, the no exercise thing really sucks. I'd warn Middlebrow to watch out because that energy has to go somewhere, right?
"cookies are good": on my family crest.
Hoping that the hip heals quicker than it's supposed to.
Oh, ouch! Hip injury = NOT good. I wish you a swift recovery, friend, and I hereby dedicate all of my pigeon poses (my favorite too) to you until you're healed.
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