Yoga....WOW!

There I was lying on the table waiting for my new physical therapist to work her magic. It was the first time I was seeing this particular therapist and I’d heard she was a miracle worker. She went to work inspecting my body, back and neck.  That’s when I heard it. “WOW” was all she said and then there was……(complete silence.) Chirp Chirp.

I didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know “Wow” was not the kind of “wow” I wanted to hear. It wasn’t like “Wow you’re so strong” or “Wow I like your tattoo.” It was simply wow, you are !(*#*@&ed up.

I came to her with several trips to the ER, orthopedic surgeons, neurosurgeons, acupuncturists and an MRI under my belt. Turns out I have three bulging disks in my cervical spine. (I remember asking my doctor, “Are you sure they’re just bulging, not hammering secret messages into my spinal cord?” That’s what it felt like anyway.

The miracle worker physical therapist hurt me good that day. Pushed and poked and pulled and I left in shameless tears. I saw her three times a week for several weeks until we were at the stage where I could hold my head up on my own (without assistance from my finger or a brace). She was proud of my progress but we both knew I had a long way to go in relearning how to move and hold my body. As I walked away that last day she had only one directive of wisdom to give me:

“You Must Try Yoga.”

Okay, so I had heard of the many beneficial aspects of yoga, but how on earth could I even attempt to get into all those funky positions if I couldn’t even master “Upward Blow Dry Hair” and “Sideways Neck Cradling Phone.” It was hard enough for me to accept that I had to MOVE in order to get better. Now I had to move, bend, bend further and stay? Yikes.

I fully accept and understand that yoga can heal one’s self in perhaps all areas of life: physiological, physical, mental, spiritual…yet why did it sound far easier to me to stop a moving train with my pinky?  What was causing me to resist?

Here we are two years later and I finally took at my first yoga class last week. I was so nervous that I found myself going against my original inner advice. I sought out the teacher, introduced myself, told her I was new (and scared!) and then…I rolled out my mat right in the front of class. I don’t know what I was thinking.  I had been planning on hiding in the back right or left corner. Slip in, slip out. But there I was….naked amongst this group of seasoned yogis. So to my surprise, throughout the class, the teacher made special effort to explain each movement. She kept running to me and telling me to spread my hands (I get it now, plant yourself to the earth—Have I told you how Type-A I am?) and she was especially careful to give alternate positions for people with neck issues. The class was hard and amazing all at once. A former “Yoga is not exercise” believer quickly shut her mouth up when she looked over and saw beads of sweat dripping down her arm while in Downward Dog….for the 20^th time!

By the end of class, I did not want to leave. I was so relaxed and limber. I was so proud of myself for being able to get into nearly every position with basic ease. This was not the pretzel twisting, upside-down trapeze swinging class I had feared. It was quiet, welcoming, energizing and relaxing. When class ended I thanked the teacher and shook her hand and said thank you. It was like a light I had been shielding my eyes from had finally peeped through. I felt so good and so excited for my next adventure.

As I drove off and looked at the sky with its big billowy clouds and bright blue sky their backdrop, I could think of only one thing to say.

“WOW.”

And then I vowed to go again.

CW

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