a new teacher
For almost two years I’ve been experiencing some form of pain weekly, often daily. I guess this fits the definition of ‘chronic pain.’ The sensation of pain feels more like a friend. In this case, it’s a pesky friend that reminds me the body I’m in is always changing, always aging, and needs tending to.
After months of visiting the chiropractor and osteopath, I got the advice that I should get some imaging. An MRI will help us better see what’s causing that deep pain in my butt that runs down my leg and into the left foot and toes. Can you guess?
It turns out I have bulging discs at both L4 and L5, and some early osteoarthritis in the lumbar spine. (The lumbar spine is the lowest region of the spine that connects to the pelvis. Because it supports the structure of the spine above it, the lumbar vertebrae widen, much like the trunk of a tree. ‘L4 and L5’ refer to the vertebrae that sit like cross sections of a tree trunk above my tailbone. The jelly discs that sit in between the bones have gone astray and brush up against the nerves that innervate my leg and foot - thus the sensation that often travels down my left side.)
So there you have it. Now we aren’t working based on guesses. We have a vision and steps towards what not to do and what to do to encourage healing. What not to do includes avoiding spinal flexion. In everyday language, this means forward folds are a no-no. What a unique premise for someone who teaches sun salutes for a living. I count a minimum of 4 forward folds per sun salute, and this isn’t including what your spine does in a downward dog or in transitions to and from the back of your mat.
Cool, cool.
Since February, I’ve navigated keeping myself safe, alongside every student in front of me. This is an added cognitive layer to consider with each class. My fellow instructors know how much is already on our minds whilst teaching. On a good day, this challenge inspires a lot of creativity. At worst, it’s simply exhausting.
On that note- I’m really tired. Emotionally, I ride a roller coaster of feeling unstoppable when symptoms wane, and absolutely crushed when they reappear. My biggest heartbreak is when the tank is so low on supply and I watch myself becoming impatient with the ones I cherish most. For anyone who manages chronic pain, I see you. And I hold the most grace for you.
This note is less about unpacking the physiology behind such an injury and it’s certainly not a how-to guide for healing. It’s my humble hope that sharing, rather than quietly enduring, will help me continue to recover. At least my students will understand why my forward fold looks much more like a squat than uttanasana.
My philosophy teacher who is SO WISE said recently, ‘bodies are our vessels towards liberation’ (or something like that.) I agree, even though I often would prefer to trade mine in. In this context, I think it means that I have a choice: I can be swept away by all of this experience, or I can learn from it. To be clear, I most definitely do both.
I have learned so much from this process.
This is what I want to share:
Movement is essential to our well being. I’ve never felt more certain about this. I’ve had many ask if yoga caused this injury. There is no certain answer. What’s caused it is a lucky combination of genetics, postural habits and aging. What is certain is that my movement practice has kept me well enough, strong enough and functioning. It has helped me manage my symptoms and will be the path towards healing.
I hold so much empathy for those who live with chronic pain. This one bears repeating. In practice, this has softened my interactions with others. Maybe, they too, are holding a story that makes it hard for them to show up with patience. My hope is to hold grace and make no assumptions.
My commitment to teaching safe and effective movement has never been more pronounced. Movement is medicine and has been crucial to navigating my recovery. I take this straight into teaching: there is a reason behind everything I offer in classes.
I fiercely believe movement practices like yoga can and should serve all of us. Does this mean our practices will look the same? Absolutely not. But can I learn to accommodate a variety of bodies and stories in front of me? You bet.
To that end, you are welcome here. Each injury I navigate becomes a teacher and the lessons I take away help me support those in front of me. My yoga looks very different these days, but it is still yoga.
You can find your yoga too. Let me know how I can help.